Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

They’d been waiting for over half an hour before they finally got to the front of the line. “This better be the best goddamn birria I’ve ever had in my life,” Jason muttered under his breath. Dick elbowed him in the ribs and then plastered on a polite smile to place his order.

They were in the hip, gentrified part of Gotham, standing in a tight cluster in front of a row of food trucks, surrounded by exactly the type of people one would expect to order their lunch from trendy, overpriced food trucks in this neighborhood. Jason was embarrassed by how well he and his siblings fit in.

Tim was hemming and hawing over what to order, and Jason wanted to tell him off for not deciding during the, again, half an hour they’d spent waiting in line, but he knew starting a fight would only make this process take even longer, so he reluctantly kept his thoughts to himself. Finally, after all six of their orders were in, Jason nudged Tim toward the front of the group.

“Timmy, you got the check, right?” he said with a smirk. “I know you got some of that Drake fortune left. Take pity on us mere peasants.”

Tim looked caught off guard, but he reached for his wallet nonetheless. Before he could withdraw any money, however, Damian slapped his credit card down in front of the employee who’d taken their orders. He scowled at Tim and Jason. “I am not a charity case,” he pronounced as the employee scanned his card, looking utterly disinterested in the drama unfolding before them.

“Damian, I was gonna pay,” Dick protested.

“Let’s not do this,” Damian said, taking his card back and tucking it into his wallet and out of sight. “Jason is right. Tim and I are the only ones in this family with any real money anymore.”

It was true. Ever since Bruce lost his fortune and Dick donated his inheritance to charity, the only members of the family with any significant liquid assets were Tim, who’d saved most of the money he’d gotten from his parents, and Damian, who received a monthly allowance from his mother. When they all got together in Gotham like this for their semi-regular dose of sibling bonding, it was almost always one of those two who covered their expenses.

Food in hand, they trekked over to the outdoor table Cass had snatched up for them while the rest of them had waited in line. She waved them down, gesturing to the empty chairs she’d fiercely guarded from all the other eaters hovering around her like vultures looking for a place to perch. Jason took the seat on Cass’ right, unwrapping his birria tacos and sticking the compostable paper straw into his soda.

“How’s New York?” Duke asked Jason, distributing napkins among the group.

“Fucking expensive,” Jason complained. “Good thing I’ve got a few schemes up my sleeve to bring the property value down in my neighborhood.” He gave an exaggerated wink, letting everyone wonder whether or not he was serious as he dug his plastic fork into his cup of Mexican street corn. As he bit down, an unexpected jolt of pain shot through his jaw.

Dick must have caught Jason’s subsequent wince, because he looked concerned. “What? Did they get your order wrong?”

Jason waved his now-empty fork around dismissively. His mouth was still a little sore, but there was no way in hell he was going to admit it. Dick would probably tell him to go to a dentist or something, like a responsible adult. “No, just thinking about how much I hate landlords,” Jason said, taking another, more careful bite.

Duke snorted in agreement. Cass made the sign for “same,” and just like that, the conversation turned to the horrors of late-stage capitalism, Jason’s brief moment of weakness all but forgotten.

That was unfortunately not the last time Jason ran into trouble while eating. For weeks afterward, every time he bit into something hard, he would get that same jolt of pain, with the soreness lingering longer and longer afterward until he was living with an ever-present ache toward the back of his mouth. He still wasn’t going to see a dentist about it, though, instead resolving to stick to soft foods until the problem resolved itself or the tooth rotted away, or fell out, or something.

This brought Jason to the start of the school year. He’d volunteered to watch Lian one evening while Roy was stuck at work. This was their arrangement ever since Jason had moved out of Gotham – prompted by Bruce losing his fortune and Jason deciding he didn’t want to be around to deal with the consequences of that – and come to New York, where Roy lived with Lian and worked as an addiction counselor for teens. Lian was in third grade and enrolled in an after-school program that kept her busy until Roy got off work most days. On the occasions when Roy had to work late, Jason stepped in. Roy kept insisting he should pay Jason for his trouble, but Jason wasn’t having any of that.

After picking up Lian on that particular day, Jason walked her a few blocks to the nearest McDonald’s as a treat. He had their order memorized: a number three, large, with a Coke; a six-piece McNugget Happy Meal with a Sprite; and two vanilla cones. They sat in a cramped corner of the restaurant to eat and Lian recounted her day in excruciating detail.

Jason took the top off his ice cream, devouring half the swirl in one fell swoop. The instant the cold hit the back of his mouth, he regretted this decision. Jason was no stranger to pain, which was how he could attest from personal experience that, in that moment, he felt like an ice pick was being hammered into his jaw.

(Okay, maybe he’d never actually had an ice pick hammered into his jaw, but he’d been stuck with plenty of sharp objects in plenty of other places, so he figured he could generalize the experience with some degree of accuracy.)

Despite the pain, he concentrated on maintaining his poker face, not wanting to distract Lian. (If she lost her place in the story she was telling, she was going to start all over from the beginning, and Jason loved her to pieces but he could not listen to the same petty third-grade drama twice in one sitting.) While she looked down to search her Happy Meal box for the toy, Jason rubbed his cheek to try to relieve some of the pain, to no avail, and tossed the rest of his cone in the trash.

Jason’s toothache only got worse from there. The pain kept him awake at night. His food options were rapidly dwindling. First he couldn’t eat anything too hard, too cold, or too hot. Then he couldn’t chew with the left side of his mouth at all. And finally, it was starting to get painful to chew altogether. He wondered how much longer he could hold out. Sure, he’d endured worse, but just how committed was he to avoiding the dentist?

It wasn’t that he was afraid of the dentist. He hated them with the same fiery passion he reserved for landlords, politicians, and telemarketers. Their sterile little offices with blinding overhead lighting and the constant sound of drilling, their judgmental comments about how often he flossed, the exorbitant cost of treatment…

Maybe he could extract the tooth himself. Maybe he could get one of his siblings to do it.

He hadn’t yet made up his mind about any of this when, one weekend, he was staying up with Roy past Lian’s bedtime watching campy, nostalgic horror movies. Jason was popping extra strength Tylenol in the bathroom every three hours to keep the edge off, but it still wasn’t enough to keep his pain entirely at bay.

Not only would Roy most likely force Jason to go to the dentist if he knew how much pain Jason was in, but as far as Jason was concerned, the only thing worse than being in pain was being in pain in front of an audience. He suffered in silence like a winner. Like a Wayne.

Which was why the two large pizzas and order of cheesy tots sitting on Roy’s coffee table were still only half-consumed. Roy had taken his share while Jason had done his best to look like he was eating without actually doing all that much eating, nibbling on the corners of a slice of pizza or dissolving a cheesy tot in his mouth over the course of several minutes instead of chewing it (a process that was exactly as gross as it sounded).

It would have been a perfect plan, but there was one critical factor Jason had neglected to consider: Roy’s superior dad senses, honed from eight years of forcing Lian to eat a balanced diet. Not more than a movie-and-a-half through their Friday the 13th marathon, Roy paused the movie and confronted Jason, and right away Jason knew he’d been caught.

“Alright, what’s the deal?” Roy demanded, wearing the same expression Jason had seen him wear any time Lian got in trouble for lying.

“What’s the deal with what?” Sometimes, if Roy didn’t care enough about a subject, he’d let Jason get away with playing dumb, so this was always Jason’s first strategy.

“I practically ate this whole goddamn pizza by myself.” Roy gestured to the slices that remained, the ones Jason had been picking at all night. “You can’t tell me New York pizza isn’t good enough for you.”

So Plan A was a bust. But it wasn’t over yet, because Jason had another ace up his sleeve: his notorious New Jersey snobbery. “It’s kinda overrated.”

Roy rolled his eyes so dramatically Jason was surprised they didn’t tumble right out of his head and onto the floor. “What, and it’s better in Gotham? Do not look me in the face and lie to me, Jason.”

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know what to tell you. I wouldn’t expect someone with your delicate Californian sensibilities to understand.”

“I’m from Washington and you know it.” Roy jabbed a finger at the pizza box. “Eat your damn pizza.”

Jason tried to get a sense of how serious Roy was. He looked pretty serious. This left Jason with two options. Option one: Admit he was in pain. Not gonna happen. Option two: Put himself through even more pain just to prove a point.

Obviously he was going with option two.

With all the nonchalance he could muster, Jason picked up a cold slice of pizza and took a convincingly large bite. He impressed himself by not wincing at the now-familiar jolt of pain in his jaw. He chewed, swallowed, and turned back to Roy.

Roy was visibly unimpressed.

Jason steeled himself and went in for another bite before Roy stopped him, snatching the pizza slice out of his hand. “You don’t have to prove a point. Just tell me what’s wrong with you.”

By far Roy’s most annoying trait was how well he knew Jason. He made it nearly impossible for Jason to get away with anything. “How could you tell something’s wrong?” Jason asked, knowing but no longer caring that this meant admitting that something was, in fact, wrong.

“I’ve seen you eat Little Caesars out of the trash,” Roy pointed out. “You gave yourself away the moment you tried pretending to be a pizza snob.”

Fuck, that was a really good point. Jason huffed out a disappointed sigh. Disappointed in himself, more than anything. He swore he used to be a better liar than this, even to Roy.

“I have a toothache,” he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest in an unconscious imitation of how Lian acted when she didn’t get her way.

“Have you had someone look at it?”

“It’s just a toothache. It’ll probably go away on its own.”

Roy appeared unconvinced. “If it’s bad enough to keep you from eating, you need to have someone look at it. When was the last time you went to a dentist?”

Jason knew exactly how long it had been, but instead of telling the truth, he gave the vaguest possible answer: “A while ago.”

Once again, Roy read him like a book. “Was it before you died?”

“Might’ve been.”

“I’m making you a dentist appointment.”

Jason woke up the next morning with his cheek plastered to Roy’s faux leather couch, still wearing his clothes from the previous day. The night came back to him in bits and pieces, including the part where Roy had convinced him to go to the dentist. Remembering this, he groaned and pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head.

He heard Roy from the kitchen: “Good, you’re awake. Your appointment is at three.”

Jason groaned again, louder. “You already made one?”

“I called first thing in the morning. You have two hours to prepare yourself.” Roy’s voice got louder as Roy approached, his footsteps light across the carpeted floor, and seconds later Jason felt the far side of the couch dip as Roy sat down.

Jason pulled his hood back and looked up. The sun shining in through the windows was mid-afternoon bright. It hit the back of Roy’s head and made his red hair glow like a halo around his face.

“What happens if I don’t go?” Jason asked.

On the inside, he’d already decided he was going to go. His toothache had gotten unbearable and he knew, deep down, that any alternative he could come up with – including his at-home extraction plan – had a good chance of only making the situation worse. But Roy didn’t have to know any of that.

“If I can’t convince you, I’ll let Lian try,” Roy threatened.

Before Jason could respond to that, he heard Lian speak up from the adjoining kitchen: “Let me try what?”

“Jay doesn’t want to go to the dentist,” Roy explained, ignoring Jason’s death glare.

Jason heard Lian’s little footsteps approaching, following the same path her dad had taken. She leaned over the side of the couch, meeting Jason’s gaze directly, those big brown eyes staring into his.

“You have to go to the dentist,” Lian said in her most serious voice. “Otherwise all your teeth will turn black and fall out. And then you’ll be sad because you can only eat mushy foods like a baby.”

Goddamn it. Jason was a sucker and he knew it. He couldn’t say no to that face. Roy knew it too, and he seemed to relish the opportunity to wield Lian’s power against Jason.

“Alright,” Jason said, “I’ll go.”

Lian nodded gravely. “Good. And don’t worry. They’re not actually scary. They’re actually nice. And they give you a sticker if you sit still.”

Jason turned to look at Roy, whose expression was all kinds of smug. That motherfucker knew Jason couldn’t retaliate properly with Lian standing right there. So instead, all Jason said was, “I’d better get a sticker,” and Roy burst out laughing.

Two hours later, they were in the car on the way to the dentist, leaving Roy and Lian’s cozy Queens neighborhood behind. It wasn’t a long drive, giving Jason hardly any time at all to mentally prepare himself for his impending torture session.

Roy dropped him off in front of a red brick building with a sign proclaiming it “Smiles Family Dentistry,” complete with a smiling tooth-shaped logo.

“We’ll just be down the block at the library,” Roy promised. “Text me when you’re done.”

Jason discreetly flipped Roy off on his way out. Roy rolled his eyes. “Real mature.”

Roy and Lian drove off, and Jason entered the building. It was exactly like every other dentist’s office he’d ever visited: too white, too clean, the sounds of drilling in the background. He approached the receptionist, who looked up from her computer.

“I’ve got a three o’clock appointment for Jason,” he said.

“Jason…” The receptionist frowned at her screen. “Here you are. Looks like you were able to complete all the new patient forms online,” she said.

Jason hadn’t completed any forms online. Roy must’ve filled them out for him. Jason was impressed that Roy had all that information.

“I see here you didn’t give us any insurance information,” the receptionist added.

“I don’t have insurance.”

She nodded. “I’ll make a note of that. You can have a seat and someone will be with you shortly.”

Jason sat down in one of the gray cushioned chairs lined up against the wall. He looked around the room at the brochures for teeth whitening and Invisalign, the TV playing an advertisement for a Waterpik and then an Oral-B electric toothbrush. This whole place was one big money pit.

As a much-needed distraction, Jason flipped through the stack of old magazines on the table in front of him, both surprised and not when he happened upon one that promised an “insider look” into the life of “former billionaire” Bruce Wayne after “losing everything.” He chuckled and flipped through the story, amusing himself with the speculation and outright falsehoods until he heard his name called.

A dental hygienist led him back to a semi-private room. Jason sat down in the reclining patient chair under bright white overhead lights.

“Do you have any concerns that brought you in today?” the dental hygienist asked.

“I’ve got a toothache on the upper left side of my mouth.”

“Got it. We’ll have Dr. Lam take a look at that. Anything else?”

“Not really.”

The dental hygienist cleaned Jason’s teeth, and then the dentist – Dr. Lam – came over, sticking various metal implements in Jason’s mouth.

“It’s a good thing you came in today, Jason,” he said, gently poking around in the general area of Jason’s toothache. “You’ve got an abscess here that I’m guessing is caused by an infection inside the tooth. These kinds of infections can spread and get a lot worse if they’re not treated. I’ll drain the abscess today and we’ll get you scheduled for a root canal.”

“A root canal?” That sounded pretty serious. It also sounded pretty expensive.

“I know you don’t have insurance, but I can have someone from our billing team set up a payment plan,” Dr. Lam offered. “It’s really important that we get this taken care of as soon as possible. And we also need to talk about the rest of your mouth…”

Once his appointment was finally over, he’d gone over the cost with the billing specialist, and he’d made his next appointment for a root canal, Jason texted Roy to come pick him up. Roy was there in minutes.

Lian was the first to speak when Jason entered the car. “Did you get a sticker?”

“I didn’t,” Jason said, shooting Roy a look. “I feel cheated.”

Without a word, Roy reached into his pocket and withdrew a brightly-colored sticker featuring a tooth gleaming and flexing its biceps, with the message, “I was brave at the dentist!”

“Where did you even get this?” Jason asked, impressed.

“The tooth fairy,” Roy responded dryly. “What’d the dentist say?”

Jason sighed and tucked the sticker into his wallet. “I have a tooth infection, a dental abscess, and gum disease. And so many cavities.”

“Sounds about right. That’s what happens when you don’t go to the dentist for ten years.” Roy’s lack of sympathy was unsurprising. Jason brooded in his seat, kicking his feet up on the dash and daring Roy to say something about it.

Lian beat him to it. “I’m not allowed to put my feet up in the car,” she complained.

“No one is allowed to put their feet up in the car,” Roy said calmly. “It’s not safe. Right, Jason?”

Jason sighed even louder and put his feet down. Roy started driving.

“Did they set you up with a payment plan?” Roy asked.

“Oh, I’m not paying for any of that,” Jason responded.

Roy looked disappointed. “If you don’t take care of it now, it’ll only get worse. And more expensive.”

“I’ll get the work done,” Jason assured him. And he would. The dentist had shown him some pictures of what his teeth looked like up close; it wasn’t pretty. Some of them had cavities so large and deep there was hardly any tooth left. He’d asked the dentist how much it would cost to just have the teeth pulled and get fake ones, but that number had been even more daunting than the one the billing specialist had quoted him for the root canal, crowns, fillings, and gum treatment he needed.

“But I’m not paying for it,” Jason continued. “I never pay medical bills. They don’t send ’em to collections.”

Roy looked doubtful. “That… has not been my experience.”

Jason waved off Roy’s concern. “Trust me, I do this all the time. Paying for healthcare is a total scam.”

“I agree, but it might be worth it to at least try. You’re not in the same position you used to be.”

Roy was careful with his words, but Jason picked up on their meaning: He no longer had Bruce’s fortune as a safety net. Jason somewhat resented the implication that he’d ever needed to rely on Bruce for anything, let alone to pay his bills, but the truth was, Jason had benefited from Bruce’s money. He’d benefited from it when he’d lived with Bruce as a teenager, and then he’d benefited from it again once he and Bruce had reconciled and he’d started letting Bruce bankroll his vigilantism. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time; plenty of vigilantes had a benefactor of some kind if they weren’t independently wealthy.

“I’ll be fine. I still know how to get money in a pinch,” Jason said vaguely, conscious of the fact that Lian was in the backseat listening to everything they were saying.

Roy didn’t take his eyes off the road, but Jason caught him raising an eyebrow. “Thought you promised your family you wouldn’t do that kind of thing anymore.”

Jason had made certain promises when he’d reconciled with Bruce, but things had changed since then. The situation was different. If he ran out of options, Jason wasn’t above going back on his word. “Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve disappointed them,” was all he said to Roy, and Roy picked up on the hint that this conversation was over.

Months went by. Jason got all the necessary work done on his teeth. He made a couple payments toward the total amount he owed, but after a while he started ignoring the reminders that came to his email and throwing out any mail from Smiles Family Dentistry.

Around the start of spring, Jason started getting calls from unknown numbers. He ignored those too, deleting the voicemails without bothering to listen. More mail started showing up, finding its way straight to the trash. It wasn’t from Smiles Family Dentistry anymore. It was from a collections agency.

Jason didn’t tell Roy about any of this, mostly because he knew what Roy would have to say about it; something involving the words “I told you so.” But he was familiar with the process, not from his own experience but from watching his mother. He’d seen her ignore the calls, throw out the letters, just like he was doing now.

Jason didn’t tell Roy, but he did mention it to Dick one weekend when he visited Blüdhaven. They were on the roof of Dick’s building, eating takeout. It was the first evening of the year that was nice enough to spend outdoors. Jason’s phone was sitting next to him, buzzing nonstop. He would’ve turned it off, but he didn’t like the idea that Roy wouldn’t be able to reach him if there was an emergency. He glanced over to check the caller ID, just in case. Another unknown number. He blocked it. He’d been playing this game of whack-a-mole for months, and he felt like he was losing.

“I need to get a fucking burner,” he muttered to himself, loud enough that Dick heard him.

“Who keeps calling you?”

“Fucking debt collectors.”

Dick looked sympathetic. “How much do you owe them?”

“Like eight grand, but they’re only trying to collect part of it. Not that I can afford that either. I don’t have that kind of cash lying around anymore.”

“What’d you spend eight grand on?”

“A root canal, two crowns, seven fillings, and laser gum treatment.”

“Insurance didn’t cover any of it?”

“You think I have insurance?” Jason scoffed. “Vigilantism doesn’t exactly come with a full benefits package.”

Dick didn’t argue with that. The whole family had been struggling, in different ways, since Bruce had lost his fortune, but everyone knew Jason had it the worst. He had nothing from his parents, nothing from Alfred, no work history, no degree. He hadn’t even finished high school. In other words, he was fucked.

“I don’t know how much Tim has left of his father’s fortune, or how much Damian gets from his mom, but they might be able to help,” Dick suggested, though he had to know how Jason would respond.

“I’d rather die. Again.” And sure enough, Dick did not look surprised. “I could get the money easily if I really needed it, but I promised somebody I wouldn’t join or start any more gangs.” He leaned back, looking up at the twilit sky. The moon was already visible, a crescent on the horizon. There were sirens in the distance. The sounds of the city were familiar; they helped Jason think. “I could try burglary. Bruce is fine with it when Selina does it.”

“I don’t know if ‘fine’ is the word I would use, but I see your point,” Dick conceded. “I’d prefer you try to get a legitimate job if you need more money, but I’m sure you don’t give a shit what I think.” He smirked, indicating that this was a joke. Dick was used to Jason ignoring his advice. Everyone was used to Jason ignoring their advice. He was independent to a fault.

“Bruce would throw a fit about it,” Jason pointed out. Not that he particularly cared.

“Bruce has bigger problems to deal with right now. I’m not advocating for you to return to a life of crime, but as long as nobody gets hurt, I wouldn’t try to stop you.”

“Oh, please,” Jason taunted, “I’d like to see you try.”

Dick retaliated by snatching Jason’s half-eaten burrito and holding it out of Jason’s reach; they spent the next few minutes playing keep away before Jason tackled Dick to the ground and took his burrito back.

“You’re such a fucking child,” he admonished, though there was no real heat behind his words. If Dick was immature, Jason was even worse.

They sat back down and Jason stole a handful of Dick’s chips. Jason’s phone started buzzing again. He blocked the new number.

“I just can’t believe they sent my dentist bill to collections,” he complained. “That’s so scummy.”

“The healthcare system in this country is fucked,” Dick agreed.

“It’s fucking ridiculous. I’ve never had a medical bill go to collections before.”

Dick looked at him strangely. “Didn’t—” he began, then cut himself off.

“What?”

Dick continued. “Didn’t Bruce cover your medical bills?”

A flicker of dread lit in Jason’s stomach. He wanted to immediately deny it, but Dick was still speaking.

“I thought he covered the whole family,” Dick said. “I could’ve sworn that included you.”

“I never asked him to,” Jason said weakly, though he already had a creeping sense of where this was going.

Jason remembered Roy’s skepticism when Jason had claimed that medical bills never went to collections. He remembered his own surprise at how persistent Smiles Family Dentistry was; he’d never gotten more than one, maybe two reminders in the mail for medical bills before. He’d assumed… He didn’t know what he had assumed. He’d had the privilege of not having to think about it.

“You didn’t have to ask.” Dick pulled out his phone, unlocking it and scrolling through. “Hold on, let me look into this…” Dick scrolled for a moment more, then held his phone up for Jason to see.

The phone was open to a password-protected folder labeled “JASON’S BILLS.”

“Where did you get this?” Jason demanded, snatching the phone out of Dick’s hand.

“Bruce’s hard drive. There’s a folder in there for all of us. You know Bruce hangs on to everything.”

Jason opened files at random, skimming over the details, mentally adding up the dollar signs, the zeroes. Hospital bills, travel expenses, gear, repairs, some of which Jason had known Bruce was paying for but most of which had been utterly unbeknownst to him.

No wonder everything in his life had suddenly gotten so much more expensive after Bruce lost his fortune.

Jason shook his head, not wanting to believe it, not having any other option but to believe it. The evidence was right there in front of him.

“Holy shit,” he finally said, feeling the dread in his stomach coalesce into something solid and immovable. All this time he’d suspected nothing. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

Chapter Text

Jason was in Roy’s home again – he was starting to spend more time there than in his own apartment – pacing back and forth across the floor, letting out his restless energy. He hadn’t been able to relax ever since he’d learned the truth about his until-recently-nonexistent medical debt.

He really was a fucking idiot. Of course Bruce had been covertly paying his way the whole fucking time, probably since even before they’d made up. It was such a Bruce thing to do, sneaking behind his back like that. Jason wondered if he would have ever found out if Bruce hadn’t lost his fortune.

And the fact that Bruce hadn’t even bothered to tell him…

Part of him had wanted to march down to Gotham and confront Bruce about it as soon as he’d learned the truth, but Jason knew where that path led. Jason would yell and fling accusations and Bruce would have every excuse in the book. Jason would say things he didn’t really mean because he knew they would hurt Bruce’s feelings. Bruce would say things he didn’t really mean not knowing they would hurt Jason’s feelings. The rest of the family would somehow get involved and everyone would choose sides. Jason would do shit he knew Bruce disapproved of just to spite him, and that would turn into a separate argument.

Bruce would eventually apologize, but by that point the resolution wouldn’t be worth all the trouble Jason had gone through to get there. The whole process would be long and messy and even after Bruce’s apology, Jason wouldn’t feel any better about the situation. He’d probably only feel worse. And what would it accomplish? Neither Bruce nor Jason nor anyone else could change what happened.

Jason wasn’t a teenager anymore. Hadn’t been one in a long time. He’d learned to pick his battles. He didn’t have the energy to pick all of them anymore.

So instead of Gotham, he’d gone to Roy’s, because Roy was his closest friend with the longest track record of willingly putting up with him, and because if anyone in Jason’s life could understand the complicated relationship Jason had with Bruce, it was Roy.

Lian was in her room getting ready for bed; Roy had sent her upstairs upon realizing Jason had come over to vent. Jason venting was decidedly not a child-friendly experience. Still, conscious of Lian’s presence in the house, Jason kept his voice down.

“It’s not just the fact that Bruce has been going behind my back this whole time,” he explained, gesturing passionately with his hands as he spoke. “That’s typical Bruce.”

“To be fair,” Roy chimed in, always the devil’s advocate, “He might not have thought he was going behind your back. When you started letting him pay for your vigilante shit, he might’ve thought paying for your medical bills was a part of that.”

Jason shook his head. He’d thought about that too, but the facts didn’t line up. “He started paying my bills way before that. Pretty much as soon as he learned I was back. We were still actively fighting.”

“Ah.” Roy nodded, taking in this information. He was sitting in an armchair in his living room, watching Jason pace. “In that case…” He paused, considering his next words. “You’re not gonna want to hear this.”

“Just say it.”

“I’m not making excuses for Bruce,” Roy prefaced. “I think it’s fucked he kept all this a secret from you, especially after the two of you buried the hatchet. Even more so when he lost his fortune. He should have warned you that you were about to lose more financial benefits than you knew about. But as a father, I can kind of understand why he did what he did.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, skeptical. “Explain.”

“If Lian and I ever fell out and she didn’t want anything to do with me, I know the right thing to do would be to respect her boundaries, but… I would have a really hard time letting her struggle if I knew there was something I could do to help,” Roy admitted. “I’m not saying I would do exactly what Bruce did. I think he fucked up royally in the execution. But I think he did it because he cares about you.”

Roy was probably right, but it didn’t change the way Jason felt. “I wish he cared a little less,” Jason complained, though he didn’t mean it. Instead, he wished Bruce had better ways of showing he cared. Ways that didn’t involve violating Jason’s boundaries. “Now I’ve become the very thing I swore to destroy.”

Roy chuckled at Jason’s dramatics. “Didn’t you already go through that phase of your life, Red Hood?”

Jason dismissed this question with a wave of his hand. “Not that,” he explained. “I’ve become an out-of-touch spoiled trust fund brat.”

“Because you’re not in crippling medical debt?”

“Because I was stupid enough not to realize every overdue bill I’ve ever had was getting paid by a billionaire.” When he got down to it, that was what bothered Jason the most. Bruce hadn’t just violated a boundary; he’d also made Jason look and feel stupid. Jason’s street smarts had always been one of his most valuable assets. He’d been through more shit than most people he knew but at least it had made him strong. What good was an entire childhood of suffering if, as an adult, he was going soft? How was he different from anyone else in his family if he was just another rich kid with trauma?

A former rich kid, now, and that was even worse. He’d gone soft and he couldn’t even benefit from it.

Jason turned to face Roy, who looked sympathetic but a little exasperated. “No one thinks you’re stupid,” Roy said, in such a flat tone of voice that it came out as a plain statement of fact. When Jason opened his mouth to argue, Roy cut him off. “No one except you thinks you’re stupid. You’re definitely not out-of-touch or spoiled, you don’t have a trust fund – at least not anymore – and I don’t know enough about your sexual preferences to say whether or not you’re a brat, although if I had to guess…” Roy looked Jason up and down thoughtfully and smirked. “Mm, I could see it.”

“That’s not—” Jason started, flustered, then stopped and thought better of it. “You’re trying to distract me and it won’t work.”

Roy laughed. “C’mon, I almost had you.” He caught Jason by the arm as Jason resumed his pacing. Roy forcefully redirected him to the couch. “Will you sit down? I’m getting anxious just watching you.”

Jason yanked his arm out of Roy’s grip and slumped down onto the sofa. Roy continued, “Whether you like it or not, you’ve been rich ever since Bruce adopted you. The fact that you never knowingly accepted his money doesn’t change that. But it’s also not a moral failing.”

“Well, I’m not rich anymore,” Jason retorted, steering the subject away from his own insecurities. He did not come here to be read to filth. Although he probably should have expected it. “So if I don’t want to end up in crippling medical debt, I need a different job. Ideally one with benefits.”

“What’s your current job?” Roy asked. “I didn’t know you had one.”

“How did you think I’ve been paying my rent?” Jason asked. Roy shrugged. Jason rolled his eyes and continued. “I’m on the apps. You know, driving, delivering, all that shit.”

“So no health insurance,” Roy surmised.

“No benefits at all. My current plan has been to avoid every kind of medical professional as much as possible for the rest of my life. It’s not ideal, but plenty of people do it. Then I ended up owing thousands of dollars to the fucking dentist, so… probably not my best plan.”

“You also end up in the hospital way more than the average person,” Roy pointed out.

“Right. The problem is, there aren’t a lot of jobs I’m qualified for that offer health insurance. I could work multiple jobs to make enough to get individual health insurance, but then I wouldn’t have time for vigilante shit. And then there’s still deductibles, copays, anything insurance doesn’t cover…” Jason buried his head in his hands, exhausted just thinking about it. “I’m starting to understand why my mom developed a drug habit.”

“It’s rough out here,” Roy agreed. “Especially as a single parent. Believe me, I know.”

Jason looked up. “Which reminds me. No matter what kind of job I get, I probably won’t still have the flexibility to help out with Lian on a regular basis.”

Roy seemed to have expected this. “You do what you gotta do,” he said.

“But what are you gonna do?” Jason knew Roy had been struggling with childcare costs before Jason moved to New York and started helping out. When Roy had lived closer to the rest of his family, they’d all been around to watch Lian, but these days, he only had Jason.

“I’ll figure it out,” Roy said. “I’ve figured it out before.”

Jason made an unintelligible noise of exasperation and world-weariness that he hoped accurately communicated how he felt about all this. Then he added, for clarification, “Shit sucks.” Roy nodded his agreement. “At this point I’m seriously debating becoming a criminal again.”

“You could do that,” Roy acknowledged.

“I think I’ll have to,” Jason said. “I feel like I’m out of options.”

Returning to a life of crime, even temporarily, would be the easiest way for Jason to make enough money to pay all his bills and save up for future expenses. It would go against the agreement he made with the rest of his family, although he doubted any of them would be surprised or try very hard to stop him. But the more Jason thought about it, the more he had to ask himself whether that was really what he wanted for himself.

There had been a time when Jason’s biggest dream had been to go to college. He’d even had a few years, when Bruce had adopted him, during which it had actually seemed like his dream had a chance of coming true. Now here he was all these years and a resurrection later, his thirties looming on the horizon, and he didn’t have a high school degree, he scraped by delivering groceries, and the only reliable way he knew how to make a living was as a mercenary, an assassin, a dealer, or a thief. On the one hand, he could continue to sink ever-deeper into debt until it broke him like it broke his mother. And on the other hand, he could follow in the criminal footsteps of his piece-of-shit biological father.

There had to be another way.

“There’s something you haven’t considered,” Roy said, with his usual uncanny timing.

“What?”

“You could marry someone with good health insurance.”

And here Jason had been hoping for an actual suggestion. “Oh yeah? Like who?” He threw his arms out and gestured around them at the otherwise-empty room. “Any of the dozens of suitors lining up around the block to get a piece of this?”

Jason hadn’t been on an actual date in his entire fucking life, let alone in a relationship. He’d had plenty of anonymous sex, although not so much recently, considering how little free time he had left between work, family, vigilantism, and Roy and Lian.

“I’m not talking about meeting someone new, dating for a few years, and getting married,” Roy explained. “I’m talking about marrying someone for their health insurance. You don’t actually have to be in love.”

“Isn’t that fraud?”

“Nah. People get married for all sorts of reasons. They don’t make you prove you’re eternally devoted to each other to do it.”

It was an objectively crazy plan, with one glaring hole in the middle of it. “Who would do that for me?” The list of people who gave a shit about Jason was depressingly short, and most of them were related to him.

Roy met his gaze with a surprising intensity. He wasn’t treating this plan like it was crazy. He was actually serious. “Maybe someone who would benefit if things stay the way they are.”

It took Jason a minute to figure out Roy’s meaning. The only people who benefited from Jason’s status quo were his family, who didn’t want him to return to a life of crime, and Roy himself, who got occasional free childcare.

And then it dawned on Jason.

“You don’t mean you?” His voice dripped with incredulity, and the expression on his face was undoubtedly priceless. He couldn’t believe what Roy was suggesting.

Even stranger was the way Roy was acting, like this was the most normal and rational idea anyone had ever come up with. “Why not, right? I’ll probably never get married otherwise. I haven’t dated in years. And then you could get on my health insurance. I even have dental and vision.”

“Wow,” Jason said sarcastically, “You’re the whole package.”

Roy continued as though Jason hadn’t said anything. “We’d make good roommates. I could turn the storage room into a bedroom and we’d both save on rent. I’d save even more on childcare if you could help out with Lian over the summer. Everybody wins.”

There was, admittedly, some logic to Roy’s arguments, if Jason ignored the fact that Roy’s entire premise – that they get married – was absurd. “Roy, this is crazy. We can’t get married.”

Roy held out his hands in question. “Like I said, why not?”

There were a million reasons. “What if one of us wants to see other people? What are we gonna say?” Jason hadn’t been getting a ton of action lately, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t want to in the future.

“We’ll just say we’re in an open marriage.”

“What about Lian?”

“Lian loves you. She’ll be thrilled you’re moving in.”

“What about everyone else?”

“You mean like our families?” Roy scoffed. “Who cares what they think?”

Jason was starting to get desperate. Roy obviously couldn’t be reasoned with. It just didn’t make any sense. “How can you be so casual about this? You’re offering to marry me.”

“It just doesn’t feel like a big deal to me,” Roy admitted. “I already have a kid. Compared to that, marriage is way less of a commitment. Listen, if you don’t want to do it, then you don’t want to do it. It’s just something to think about.”

Before their argument could continue any longer, they both heard Lian coming downstairs.

“We can talk more about this later,” Roy said. “Are you planning on staying the night?”

Jason glanced out the nearest window. The sun had already set. “Sure. But no more marriage talk. You’re freaking me out.”

“Fear of commitment, huh?” Roy teased. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

True to his word, Roy didn’t bring up the topic of marriage for the rest of the night. Jason slept on the couch like usual and woke up in the morning to the sounds of Roy getting ready for work and getting Lian ready for school. It was nearing the end of the school year, the weather getting warmer and the days getting longer. Despite the early hour, it was nearly bright outside.

“Coffee?” Roy asked from the kitchen.

“Definitely,” Jason said, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and cracking his back. He was getting too old to crash on his friend’s couch like this. His neck and shoulders always ached the next day.

Roy was in the kitchen running the coffee maker and warming up overnight oats for breakfast. “Grab a protein shake from the freezer if you want,” he instructed Jason. “There’s vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and peanut butter banana.”

“That one’s my favorite,” Lian chimed in from where she sat at the kitchen table, sipping a shake of her own.

“Thanks for the tip,” Jason told Lian, tousling her hair as he walked past her to the freezer.

“Hey!” she protested, ducking to escape his reach.

The freezer was filled to the brim with prepped meals, including an entire shelf of protein shakes. There were twice as many peanut butter banana as every other flavor.

“Breakfast is served,” Roy announced, doling out three servings of oatmeal topped with blueberries and almonds. Lian hungrily reached out for the bowl Roy passed her, digging her spoon in for a large bite.

The scene was so overwhelmingly domestic, the type of breakfast Jason hadn’t experienced in a long, long time. Despite himself, Jason found himself thinking that if this was what he had to look forward to if he moved in with Roy, then maybe Roy’s marriage idea wasn’t entirely without merit. He was pretty sure he could get used to this.

Startled by this line of thinking, Jason shook himself back to reality. He really was going soft. What the fuck was wrong with him?

“Eat fast, Lian; we don’t wanna be late,” Roy warned, holding a strawberry protein shake in one hand and packing Lian’s lunch with the other. Her lunch box was light blue and purple with Disney princesses on it. Jason couldn’t name half of them, but he was pleasantly surprised by the amount of diversity.

Lian must have seen where he was looking, because she pointed and announced, “My favorite is Moana. Who’s your favorite, Jay?”

“Oh, uh…” Jason racked his brain, coming up with a foggy memory of babysitting Lian one time and watching a Disney movie he’d thought wasn’t actually that bad. “Merida,” he said, impressed that he actually remembered the princess’ name.

Roy snorted, nearly choking on his oatmeal.

“Why is that funny?” Jason demanded.

“Nothing,” Roy said. “No reason. Good choice.”

It dawned on Jason slowly: He’d picked the redheaded archer princess. He narrowed his eyes, unamused. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself.”

Roy only laughed louder.

The next time they spoke about Roy’s marriage idea, they made an agreement: Jason had until the start of Lian’s summer break to decide whether he wanted to go through with it. Jason knew what his answer would likely be – a resounding “no” – but something kept him from giving that answer right away. He wanted to at least try to come up with a better plan before he completely rejected this one.

Unfortunately, he hardly had time to focus on coming up with a better plan before something far more important stole his attention: Barbara had new intel on an arms trafficking operation Jason had followed from Gotham to New York. He’d been spending the better part of a year trying to track down the gang’s leader, a real slippery motherfucker by the name of Sergey Kevorkov who always seemed to be one step ahead of Jason. He’d finally gone to Barbara for assistance, not too proud to admit that his surveillance abilities paled in comparison to hers because, well, so did everyone’s. With her help, he felt confident he finally had this son of a bitch cornered.

As he was suiting up for the night in his cramped studio apartment, Jason debated calling Roy up and asking if he was available to provide backup. Despite living in the same city, the two of them teamed up relatively infrequently. That was another thing that would likely change if Jason moved in with Roy, he thought. Another potential perk of Roy’s marriage idea.

Jason boxed up that thought and shoved it in a mental closet with all the other unhelpful thoughts he’d been having lately and then he set off alone. He could handle tonight’s mission without backup.

Riding his motorcycle through the city, Jason welcomed the opportunity to clear his head. The night air was cool, the sky clear. Nights like this never failed to remind him how different his new home was from the one he’d left behind. Clear skies were as rare in Gotham as snow in Florida.

Jason enjoyed the change of scenery. He appreciated New York’s cleaner streets and lower crime rates, and he would always rather live near Roy and Lian than his family. But he suspected a part of him would always feel nostalgic for what he’d left behind.

Barbara’s lead took Jason to a luxury apartment building on the Upper West Side. He stashed his bike in an alley, biometrically locked and rigged to alert him if anyone tried to tamper with it, tech Bruce had invented after Jason stole the tires off the Batmobile what felt like two lifetimes ago. He stashed his helmet, domino mask, and weapons in a duffel bag that he slung over one arm. Walking past a darkened window, he confirmed that his all-black, all-leather ensemble came across as fashionable instead of criminal. He ran a hand through his helmet hair, styling it messily like he was coming home from a workout or a one-night stand.

Even in a wealthy neighborhood like this one, sneaking into a residential building was child’s play. Jason lingered outside the front entrance, pretending to be on a phone call, watching residents go in and come out. A young woman around his age brought her small dog out on a leash to go potty in the patch of grass that lined the sidewalk. Jason said goodbye to the nonexistent person on the other end of the line.

Once her dog had done its business, the woman scanned her fob by the door, granting them both entry. She hardly spared Jason a backward glance as he followed her inside. She even politely held the door open for him.

There were two security guards at the front desk, but neither of them looked up from the conversation they were having with each other. The young woman pressed the button for the elevator and Jason waited with her, keeping a respectful distance between them. They got on the elevator together.

“What floor?” she asked.

“Six,” Jason said. The woman pressed the buttons for the third and sixth floor.

“Cute dog,” Jason remarked as they rode up three floors together.

“Thanks,” the woman replied.

The elevator dinged, the doors opened, and the woman and her dog got out, leaving Jason to ride the rest of the way alone.

On the sixth floor, Jason got out and made his way confidently to the stairwell, just one door down from the elevator. He climbed up one more flight of stairs to the penthouse level. The door was locked, with another fob reader identical to the one on the building’s front entrance. Jason discreetly checked the stairwell for cameras. As he’d expected, there weren’t any. He shook his head. This really was too easy.

Jason withdrew his lock-picking tools from his bag and got to work, dismantling the entire fob reader in a matter of seconds. He heard the door unbolt with a click. Before he let himself in, he donned his domino mask and helmet.

The penthouse level was quiet. Opposite the stairwell and elevator were the front doors to the penthouse apartments, with shiny silver numbers indicating which was which. 702 was the one Jason was looking for.

According to Barbara’s intelligence, Sergey was supposed to be here tonight visiting his girlfriend. Jason loaded one of his pistols, keeping it hidden inside the duffel bag but with his finger close to the trigger. Best case scenario, he’d catch his target with his pants down, literally, and there wouldn’t have to be a fight, but just in case, he wanted to be prepared for anything.

He picked this lock even more easily than the first one; it was a regular keyed entry. The door opened soundlessly to a spacious kitchen that overlooked an even bigger living room with a view of the Hudson. Shit, this guy made money if his girlfriend was living like this. Maybe Jason had been too quick to dismiss the idea of returning to a life of crime…

He tabled that thought, shut the door quietly behind him, and crept through the kitchen. Standing where the kitchen met the living room, he could see what was likely the door to the master bedroom. It was closed.

Standing outside the bedroom door, he took a long, quiet breath. Then, in a flash of movement, he slammed the door open and took stock of the scene laid out before him.

The room was empty.

That was strange. Barbara’s intelligence was almost never wrong.

Jason had just lowered his weapon when he heard footsteps to his right and a glass door sliding open. In walked his target’s girlfriend, the woman who lived here. Alicia Joy, according to Barbara. Age twenty-nine, former bartender, aspiring influencer. She looked confused and not nearly as scared as someone in her situation should have been.

When she spoke, she sounded more amused than anything else. “Don’t you think this is a bit much?”

Jason had no idea how to respond to that. Before he could string a coherent thought together, Alicia continued. “When you said ‘roleplay,’ I thought you wanted me to dress as a sexy nurse or something. This wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

The words finally came to him. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

Upon hearing Jason’s voice, distorted by the modulator in his helmet, Alicia seemed confused. “Wait, you’re not…” As she spoke, she seemed to realize what was actually going on. Her eyes widened and she took several steps backward. “Who are you? Where is Sergey?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.”

“He told me no one knew about this place.” Alicia’s voice was shaking, but she held her ground. Jason admired that.

“I am no one,” he said dismissively. “You’re telling me you don’t know where Sergey is?” If tonight’s lead turned out to be yet another dead end, he was going to have to go back to the drawing board. He couldn’t keep playing this cat-and-mouse game forever.

“He went out for booze,” Alicia explained.

“When will he be back?”

“I don’t know. Soon.”

Jason sighed. There was a chance he could still salvage this mission. But first he needed to get the situation back under control.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he emphasized. “I’m just here for Sergey.” He nodded at a vanity in the corner of the room. “Sit there. Hands behind your back.”

Alicia did as she was told, taking a seat at her vanity and putting her hands behind her back. Jason restrained her with a roll of duct tape he had in his bag. She glared up at him.

“It’s not personal,” he told her. “It’s just business.”

Jason tore off a final strip to tape Alicia’s mouth shut, but before he could do so, he heard the sound of the front door opening.

“Sergey!” Alicia shouted. Jason clamped a gloved hand over her mouth, but it was too late. The element of surprise was gone.

Alicia bit down, tearing Jason’s glove off as he yanked his hand out of her mouth. Outside the bedroom, a noisy clatter of glass bottles tumbled onto the ground, and heavy footsteps rapidly approached.

Jason had his pistol aimed at the door by the time Sergey appeared, a tall hulk of a man, dressed in an all-black, all-leather ensemble not dissimilar from Jason. Jason could see now how Alicia had gotten the two of them confused.

Sergey was unarmed, save for a bottle of vodka he wielded like a hammer. “Drop it,” Jason told him. He still had the upper hand.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Sergey demanded, ignoring the obvious threat of Jason’s sights set on him. This was a man who’d had weapons aimed at him before.

“I’m not here for a conversation,” Jason said. “Drop the vodka.”

“How did you find me?”

“Are you fucking listening to me? I’m not going to say it again. Drop the fucking vodka and put your hands in the air. Do what I say and I might let you live. Make me repeat myself and I definitely won’t.”

Sergey laughed, a harsh, derisive sound. “You can’t threaten me. Everyone knows the Red Hood doesn’t kill anymore.”

See, now, that got on Jason’s nerves. True enough, Jason wasn’t nearly as murder-happy as he used to be, but he’d kill if he had to. Besides, there were plenty of ways to make someone suffer without killing them.

So Jason fired a bullet into Sergey’s shoulder.

Immediately, several things happened at once. Alicia screamed and flung herself – and the chair she was duct-taped to – forward, knocking Jason off his balance. Sergey cried out in pain, and in his rage, swung the vodka bottle like a baseball bat. It hit Jason full-force in the gut, but didn’t break.

Jason aimed for the bottle next, shattering it and sending glass flying everywhere. His helmet and suit shielded him from taking any damage, and his body shielded Alicia, but tiny shards embedded themselves in Sergey’s face, neck, and shaved head.

Sergey was looking pretty rough, but he kept fighting, lunging forward with the shattered remains of the vodka bottle, and Jason met him halfway, attempting to wrestle the bottle out of his grasp. His gloveless hand was immediately torn up on the sharp edges of the broken bottleneck, but he successfully grabbed hold of it and tossed it to the ground, then forced Sergey to the ground as well, trapping him with a gun barrel to his forehead.

Jason breathed heavily, adrenaline pumping, sweat beading on his forehead. “Are you a gambler?” he asked rhetorically. “How much do you want to bet the Red Hood doesn’t kill?”

Sergey snarled at him like a rabid dog, but he didn’t try to fight back or get up. Jason smirked triumphantly, an expression that was invisible under his helmet.

“Good boy,” he taunted, and reached for more duct tape.

Chapter Text

Jason waited on the roof of Sergey and Alicia’s building for the police to arrive. He hated working with the NYPD even more than he’d hated working with the GCPD, but he couldn’t exactly arrest Sergey himself. And despite his threats, Jason would rather see Sergey arrested than dead. He’d serve his time, probably get deported to Russia, serve additional time there, and by the time he made his way back to America, if he ever did, he’d be way too old to stir up any real trouble.

See? Jason could do things the Batman way sometimes.

While Jason waited, he took a look at his injured hand. During the fight with Sergey, the adrenaline had distracted him from the pain, but he could certainly feel it now. He thought about going back into Alicia’s apartment to nab one of the still-intact bottles of liquor Sergey had left rolling around on the kitchen floor, but he decided against it. He’d more or less stopped drinking ever since he’d moved to New York and started spending so much time with Roy. He hadn’t done it intentionally, but it felt like a good habit to stick to.

Without liquor to numb the pain, Jason clenched his teeth and went in with his lock-picking tools, pulling shards of glass out of his hand. He was bleeding profusely, but if he didn’t get the glass out before he bandaged his wounds, he would be risking an infection.

Once he’d cleaned the wound as well as could be expected in the dim light and with the tools he had on hand, Jason tore a strip of fabric off the shirt he wore underneath his suit and bandaged the wound tightly, blood already soaking through the cloth. He was lucky he hadn’t sliced the tendon in his wrist. This was bad enough as it was. He needed medical attention.

The police finally arrived and Jason booked it. Instead of heading north back to his apartment in the Bronx, he went east. He did so without really thinking, roaring into Roy’s quiet neighborhood like the public nuisance he was. He’d come here on autopilot, but upon arriving, he knew it was the only place he could’ve gone. Jason wasn’t in Gotham anymore; he couldn’t go to his family or their friends for help. It was Roy or nobody.

It only occurred to Jason as he was letting himself in through the side door with the spare key Roy had given him that Roy might not be home from patrol. There were still a few good crime-fighting hours left in the night. Then again, with a kid at home, Roy tended not to stay out as long as someone like Jason. Jason figured his chances were somewhere around fifty-fifty.

Roy’s house was a three-bedroom: one bedroom for Lian, one for Roy, and one that Roy used as a storage space. It also had an unfinished basement that served as Arsenal’s base of operations, and Jason figured if Roy was home, that was where he would find him.

Careful not to make too much noise and wake Lian, Jason made his way downstairs, relieved to see a faint light coming from Roy’s desk, the light of Roy’s monitors. Roy was hunched over his desk, still half-suited-up, the top half of his suit unzipped and hanging around his waist, his undershirt in a heap on the floor, along with his mask, various belts, and that god awful trucker hat. A sheen of sweat glistened on his bare torso, his hair slicked back with dirt and oil. He made no indication of having heard Jason, focused intently on the screens in front of him.

Jason cleared his throat loudly, and Roy spun around like a whirlwind, temporarily on guard before he realized who had snuck up on him. He visibly relaxed, though not fully. He had to know, if Jason was showing up this late in the night (or early in the morning), something was wrong.

“What are you doing here?” Roy asked. He made no move to cover up the fact that he was half-naked, suit hanging low off his hips. Jason had seen even more of him than this over the course of their friendship. Despite the pain in his hand – pain that had only worsened on the ride there – Jason spared a brief moment of appreciation for Roy’s off-the-charts attractiveness, because frankly it felt wrong not to.

Then Jason held up the aforementioned hand, in all its hastily-bandaged glory. Blood was seeping through the fabric and it hurt to move his fingers.

Roy gave a resigned sigh of someone who knew he wasn’t getting any sleep that night. Without a word, he pulled his undershirt back over his head and stepped out of his suit and into a pair of sweatpants he’d left hanging off the back of his desk chair. Then he gestured toward the stairs. “Let’s go.”

“What?” Jason said, a little confused. He was pretty sure Roy kept his first aid supplies down here in the basement, with the rest of his gear. “I just need help stitching it up,” he explained.

Roy turned the overhead light on and gently took Jason’s injured hand in both of his to inspect it more closely. He shook his head. “This is above my pay grade. I’m taking you to a hospital.”

“I’m not paying thousands of dollars for a few stitches,” Jason argued. They could both tell he needed a lot more than a few stitches; underneath the makeshift bandage, his skin was shredded and there were likely still shards of glass in the wound, putting him at risk of infection. Regardless, none of that warranted a trip to the hospital in Jason’s mind.

“You need more than just stitches. I’m not gonna risk fucking up your hand.”

“It’ll be fine,” Jason said. “I trust you.”

“That’s not the point, Jason,” Roy retorted, and there was heat in his voice. He was actually upset about this. Jason didn’t know why. There had been a time, not that long ago, when Jason and Roy used to stitch each other up on the regular. Jason wasn’t sure what had changed. Suddenly Roy was all about getting medical care from actual professionals or some bullshit. Was it just a symptom of Roy getting older and more mature? Did he expect Jason to act like a responsible adult, now that Jason was almost thirty? Roy was going to be sorely disappointed, if that was the case.

“No, the point is, as we’ve already covered, I can’t fucking afford to go to the hospital.” Jason felt himself getting angry too, because what right did Roy have to be upset with him in the first place?

“Then let me help you!” Roy exclaimed.

Jason balked. It wasn’t like Roy to raise his voice, especially in his own home, where Lian could possibly overhear him. Roy was fastidious about maintaining a safe, stable, and secure home environment for his child. As much as Jason could, he had always done his best to contribute to that particular mission, keeping the messier parts of his life away from Lian. He and Roy both knew what childhood trauma could do to someone. That kind of damage was nearly impossible to undo.

And it still made no sense to Jason why this was the issue that Roy had gotten so hung up on. This was Roy’s line in the sand? Jason refusing to go to the hospital for stitches? Why?

“I’m not turning this into another conversation about the two of us getting married,” Jason said, in case that was what was motivating Roy.

“It never was about the two of us getting married,” Roy tried to explain.

“I feel like it was.”

“That’s because you don’t listen.” Roy sighed and ran a hand through his greasy hair. He looked like he needed a shower. And a good night’s sleep. And maybe a week off, for good measure. He looked exhausted. Jason knew he didn’t look any better.

“I know how it feels to have no good options left,” Roy said, some of the frustration already gone from his voice, replaced with genuine concern. “I’ve been where you are. I want to help. Not because I don’t think you’re capable of figuring shit out on your own; I know you are. That’s what you’ve always done. That’s what I’ve always done. What I’m trying to get you to understand is that it doesn’t have to be that way.”

Roy took Jason’s injured hand in his again, holding it back up to the light. “Maybe I could stitch you up this time, and maybe I’d do a good enough job, and maybe you’d avoid getting an infection, but why risk it? And what about next time? What if your next injury is worse? Will you still come to me instead of going to the fucking hospital then? I need to know you won’t let yourself bleed to death in the street just to save money.”

Jason opened his mouth to speak, then found himself at a loss for words. For a moment, they stood there, staring at each other. Not for the first time in his life, Jason was forced to reckon with the reality of someone actually giving a shit about him.

Roy continued, “I know you’re allergic to letting people help you, but come on. You’re my best friend.”

Roy was right about one thing: With very few exceptions, Jason had always figured shit out on his own. He’d never had anyone else to rely on, at least not for long. The people he was supposed to rely on inevitably failed him, leaving him worse off than before. It was safer to go it alone.

Safer, but not easier.

“What exactly are you suggesting?” Jason asked.

“Let me take you to the hospital. Let me help you pay for it. Consider it payment for all the times you’ve helped out with Lian, and all the times I’m sure you’ll help out in the future. We don’t have to talk about marriage tonight if you don’t want to.”

Accepting help of any kind was, as Roy had astutely pointed out, not one of Jason’s strong suits. Accepting monetary help was even harder. Jason knew how much an ER visit could cost. What Roy was offering wasn’t insignificant. Although should he have been surprised by that, given that Roy had already offered to marry him just so he could have health insurance? Jason could say many things about that, but he couldn’t deny Roy’s commitment to the bit.

Fuck it. If it mattered that much to Roy, Jason would go to the fucking hospital. But he had stipulations. “The only way I’m letting you pay my hospital bill is if you let me help you out with Lian all summer.”

Roy looked surprised. He clearly hadn’t expected Jason to agree that fast. “That’s… Jay, you’d be saving me a ton of money by helping out all summer. Like, you have no idea how much. That’s not a fair trade.”

“Well, tough shit, because that’s the deal I’m offering.”

Jason caught the smile Roy was fighting to keep off his face. An answering smile flickered across Jason’s features before he, too, caught it and hid it away. “If you’re committing to help out with Lian, does that mean you’ll move in with us?”

“If you and Lian seriously want me to live with you, I… guess so, yeah. I don’t see why not. I’ll have to wait for my lease to be up in a couple months, but I can start spending more time here in the meantime.” While Jason had spent most of the past few weeks avoiding thinking too much about Roy’s marriage idea, he had given a fair amount of thought to the idea of moving in together, and he agreed that it seemed like a good financial decision for both of them. Not to mention it might help with the loneliness Jason would never admit to sometimes experiencing by himself in this new city, away from his family and the familiar environment he’d grown up and spent the majority of his life in.

Jason added, “I don’t want to make a decision about marriage tonight, but I think… I think you’re right about living together. It’s a good idea. It would save us both a lot of money.”

Roy’s smile finally escaped, transforming quickly into a full-blown grin. It was a rare sight – Roy genuinely, unsarcastically grinning – and made something inside Jason feel fluttery and warm, so much so that he almost forgot the context of the situation and was caught off guard when Roy said, “Should we go, then?”

“Huh?” Jason’s brain took a few seconds to buffer. “Oh, right. The hospital. Yeah, sure, whatever.”

The nearest hospital was to the east, just a few neighborhoods over. On the way there, Jason tried to keep the mood light. He held up his injured hand and said, “By the way, you should see the other guy.”

Roy rolled his eyes, which Jason took as a win. “How did it happen?” Roy asked.

“Remember that arms dealer I’ve been trying to track down?” Roy nodded. “Well, I finally found him.”

At an intersection, Roy spared a moment to glare in Jason’s direction. “Sergey Kevorkov? You went after him alone? You didn’t think to call for backup?”

Even though Jason had actually thought to call for backup, his ego was bruised by the implication that he’d needed it. He’d come out on top in the end. It hadn’t even been that long of a fight.

“He’s just one guy,” Jason argued. “He wasn’t even armed. He only managed to land a hit on me because his girlfriend hit me with a chair.”

Roy snorted. “She did what?”

“I had her duct-taped to a chair and she tried to tackle me. Then Sergey came at me with a bottle of vodka.”

“And that’s how you sliced up your hand.”

“Basically,” Jason confirmed. “I’ll give Sergey credit for trying. Not that that’ll do him much good in prison.”

The emergency room wasn’t half as busy as Jason was used to, though he supposed out here in Queens there were likely far fewer late-night medical emergencies than where he used to live in the worst part of Gotham. Jason checked in at the front desk, filled out a form one of the staff members gave him, and waited for his name to be called.

He and Roy passed the time whispering to each other, trying to guess what everyone else was in for. In some cases it was obvious – the teenage boy who had his foot elevated on an empty chair had probably fucked up his ankle, and the woman holding a bag of ice to her arm looked like she’d burned herself on the stove – but Jason had fun guessing what was wrong with everyone else. He was convinced the middle-aged man standing awkwardly in the corner had something up his butt that did not belong there.

After roughly half an hour, a nurse called Jason’s name. He went back by himself, leaving Roy behind in the waiting room. In an examination room, the nurse unwrapped Jason’s DIY bandage and inspected the injury, asking Jason how it happened (“I broke a glass bottle”) before getting to work. The nurse thoroughly cleaned Jason’s injury, removing any remaining shards of glass, then brought in a doctor, who numbed Jason with a local anesthetic, stitched him up, and wrote him a prescription for antibiotics. Then the nurse was back to dress his wound and send him on his way.

Aside from all the waiting, the process was short, simple, and straightforward. And yet Jason was sure this would cost him (well, Roy) something ridiculous like five thousand dollars, because of course it would. At least Roy would be happy.

After picking up his antibiotics from the hospital pharmacy, Jason rode back to Roy and Lian’s place and, once again, crashed on the couch, though not before Roy had a chance to interrogate him.

“What did the doctor say?” he asked as they were still leaving the hospital.

“Not much. Stitched me up and told me to be more careful.”

“Does he think you’ll have any nerve damage?”

“Didn’t ask.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Roy paused, then added, “If there is nerve damage, you might need physical therapy.”

“Sounds expensive,” Jason remarked. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“My health insurance covers physical therapy,” Roy oh-so-helpfully provided.

“I bet it does.”

Roy didn’t say anything else on the subject, but he’d made his point well enough already.

Over breakfast, Roy broke the news to Lian. They were all sitting around the kitchen table together in another nauseatingly domestic scene. Jason hadn’t been able to get much sleep after getting back from the hospital, so he’d gotten up early, taken a shower, stolen clean clothes out of Roy’s dryer, and made high-protein pancakes using ingredients Roy had in the kitchen. It had been much harder than he’d anticipated to make breakfast one-handed, but the twin looks of surprise and delight on Roy and Lian’s faces had made it all worth the effort.

The conversation started when Lian noticed Jason’s injured hand. “What happened to your hand, Jay?” she asked, piling her stack of pancakes with blackberries and raspberries.

“I cut myself on broken glass,” Jason said, sparing her the gory (and potentially traumatizing) details.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little. I’ll be okay, though.”

Lian nodded, taking in this information. “One time, I stepped on a piece of glass,” she told him. “It hurt a lot.”

This was seemingly the end of Lian’s line of questioning, because she dug her fork into her pancakes and stuffed a huge bite into her mouth, dribbling whipped cream on her chin. Roy rolled his eyes and smiled fondly.

“Hey, princess,” he said. Lian met his gaze expectantly. “Jason and I have something to talk to you about. It’s nothing bad, I promise.”

Lian chewed and swallowed, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, taking care of the mess she’d left there. “What is it?”

Jason shot Roy a look, not sure where he was going with this.

“Jay and I were talking, and we thought it might be a good idea if he moved in with us. Then he could take care of you over the summer while you’re home from school.”

This wasn’t what Jason had expected, but honestly, he should have. It was just like Roy to immediately seal the deal on Jason moving in by telling Lian. Now there was no way Jason could back out, because doing so would mean disappointing Lian, which was obviously unthinkable. It was exactly the sort of subtle manipulation Roy excelled at, and although it was annoying as hell to be on the receiving end of it, a part of Jason had to respect how artfully Roy had pulled it off.

Lian was, predictably, overjoyed by this news. Her eyes were wide and the brightest, most infectious grin lit up her face. She turned to Jason. “Is that true? Are you really gonna live here? And watch me instead of a babysitter?”

Well, yes, obviously now he had to. He had no other choice. Fucking Roy.

What Jason said, though, was, “Only if you want me to.”

Lian hopped up and down in her seat, nearly knocking over her glass of milk. “I do! I do, I do, I do!”

Roy looked pleased with himself. “Well, then, that settles it.” He turned to Jason. “I’ll clear out some space in the storage room this weekend. You can start moving your stuff in as soon as you want to after that. And I’ll add your name to the lease once your old lease is up.”

“Just like that?” Jason said. Roy had such a way of making these big changes sound so simple, the same way he’d spoken about their hypothetical marriage. Jason didn’t know whether that was a sign that Roy was impressively well-adjusted or exactly the opposite. It was definitely one or the other.

“No reason to complicate things,” Roy replied. “This is supposed to make both our lives easier. And I think it will.” He turned back to Lian. “Right, princess?”

Lian’s grin hadn’t faded one bit. “Right!”

After Roy left to go to work and drop Lian off at school, Jason returned home. His apartment already seemed smaller and lonelier than it had the day before. Jason had never put much effort into making any of the places he’d lived feel like home. If he’d learned anything from his childhood, it was that home was just another thing he could lose.

And yet, without meaning to, he’d created a home for himself with Roy and Lian. He felt more comfortable, more welcome in their space than anywhere else in the world. Even though Roy had strong-armed him into it, he genuinely looked forward to living there.

Jason could leave behind his tiny, worn-down, sparsely decorated apartment; his upstairs neighbor who loved moving furniture around first thing in the morning and his downstairs neighbor who played music too loud. He could leave behind his shitty landlord who never fixed anything, the leaky faucet in the bathroom, the mold in the vents that had gone dormant over the winter but was coming back with a vengeance in the spring.

He could wake up every morning to breakfast on the table – hell, maybe he’d even make it, like he had today – and fresh coffee and Lian’s smiling face. He and Roy could spit the housework, and the rent. He could spend all the time in the world with Lian, and feel useful doing it, knowing he was helping Roy out. If Roy let him borrow the car, he could even increase the amount of money he made driving and making deliveries.

Jason was always hesitant to get his hopes up about anything, but maybe this move would be a good thing after all. Not just for him, but for Roy and Lian too. And maybe it would finally get Roy to drop the marriage idea. Because, while he’d never admit it, Jason was running out of arguments in the face of Roy’s logical reasoning. In a lot of ways, Roy’s plan made sense.

Jason spent the day working, earning a little money and killing a little time. After a full day of back-to-back deliveries, he got home in the early evening and slept a few hours, then woke back up and went on patrol. He sent Barbara a message thanking her for the lead and letting her know he’d been successful in capturing Sergey. Now that the Russian had been taken in by the police and was awaiting trial, all Jason had left to do was dismantle his arms trafficking operation.

Arms trafficking was one of Jason’s favorite types of organized crime to thwart, because if he was lucky, he’d get some cool new weapons and ammo for free. Jason already had a plan to take out the rest of the gang’s leadership, raid their supplies, and leave the scattered remnants of disorganized low-level gang members for the police to handle. No reason he should put the NYPD out of a job. (Actually, there were plenty of reasons, but defunding the police was more of a society-wide initiative than something Jason, one-man army though he was, could accomplish by himself. He wished, though.)

He made it an early night, rather than set his plan into motion immediately. He thought he’d earned a bit of a cool-down period while his hand healed. Before turning in, though, he checked his phone, just in case he had any messages or missed calls. Seeing that his only notifications were from the delivery apps he used, he plugged his phone in and pulled the covers over his head.

Jason woke to a sharp pain, having rolled over in his sleep on top of his injured hand. He blinked his eyes open and squinted at his bedroom window. The pale light of dawn seeped through the slats in his blinds. His whole body complained at being awake at this hour, except for his bladder, which was yelling at him to get the fuck out of bed.

He got up, shuffled to the bathroom, and returned minutes later, burying his face in the pillow and dozing off again.

He woke again a few hours later to the same sensation. It was still too early for him to want to get up, but now it was too late for him to fall back asleep. Annoyed, he grabbed his phone off his nightstand, looking for a distraction. He had one unread message from Dick. He debated leaving it unread. Did he have it in him to talk to his family today? What if it was an emergency?

In the end, his curiosity got the better of him. He instantly regretted it.

DICK GRAYSON: You’re moving in with Roy????

Jason cursed under his breath. How did Dick do it? How was he always the first to know all the family gossip? Did he have Barbara spying on everyone for him, or was it simply a feature of his oldest sibling nature to be in everyone else’s business?

Had Roy told him? Jason knew Roy and Dick were friends, even older friends than Roy and Jason, but surely Roy still had some sense of boundaries.

JASON TODD: who the fuck told you

Dick must’ve been close to his phone, because his reply came immediately.

DICK GRAYSON: Lian 😈

Damn. Jason couldn’t get mad at Lian the way he could’ve gotten mad at Roy. Lian wouldn’t have understood that Jason and Roy might want to wait to break such big news to their families on their own terms. She was probably just excited to share the good news with her Uncle Dick.

And if Dick knew, it was only a matter of time before Jason’s whole family knew, if he hadn’t told them already. He probably had.

JASON TODD: who else knows

Several seconds went by with no indication that Dick planned to answer his question. Jason asked again.

JASON TODD: who the fuck did you tell

Perfectly on cue, a new message came through in Jason’s siblings’ group chat, which someone at some point had named “Trauma Squad.” Jason fired off one last text to Dick before switching over.

JASON TODD: you son of a bitch

Duke had started the conversation in the group chat, and when Jason saw his message, he cursed again, louder this time.

DUKE THOMAS: j is moving in w roy?

That settled it. Next time Jason was in Blüdhaven, he was going to murder Dick.

JASON TODD: dick i hate you

Two more messages popped up in quick succession.

CASS CAIN: congrats!! 🤗
DAMIAN WAYNE: Where do I unsubscribe from Jason’s life updates?

Jason was equally quick with his response.

JASON TODD: fuck you
JASON TODD: fuck all of you

And then, of course, Tim had to add his two cents.

TIM DRAKE: are you moving in w roy or 🌈💅 moving in w roy 🌈💅

Tim’s emoji use was as illustrative as always. He’d been on a crusade to prove that Jason was queer ever since Jason had moved to New York to be closer to Roy. In Tim’s defense, Jason was queer, but he refused to give Tim the satisfaction of being right. Besides, Jason’s queerness had nothing to do with his decision to move to New York and then in with Roy.

JASON TODD: the first one

Jason silenced and then exited the group chat and made to set his phone down when it buzzed once more. He glanced at the message.

BRUCE WAYNE: Let me know if you need any help moving.

Dick’s days were fucking numbered.

Chapter Text

The weekend came around. Jason showed up in the early afternoon, as early as he’d been able to coax himself out of bed on a Saturday, to help Roy clear out the extra bedroom he’d been using as a storage room, which would become Jason’s room once his lease was up. He couldn’t bring up the text conversations he’d had with his family with Lian around – he didn’t want to make her feel bad for spilling the beans – so he tabled that conversation for later and he, Roy, and Lian gathered in the storage room, facing the utterly unorganized stacks of boxes, bags, and loose items that filled it.

“Roy, I think you’re a hoarder,” Jason remarked, impressed by the sheer amount of stuff Roy had in his possession. Jason barely had enough stuff to furnish his studio apartment.

“I’m not a hoarder,” Roy corrected him, “I just grew up poor and now I’m incapable of getting rid of things because I might need them later.”

Jason shook his head. “You and I grew up a different kind of poor, I guess.” Jason’s upbringing had taught him that too much stuff was a liability. He tried to live in such a way that, at any given time, he could throw all the essentials into a suitcase and upend his entire life. But he could see how someone else, growing up without a lot, would come to see stuff as a rare commodity to save for a rainy day.

“Anyway, we’ve mostly got three categories of stuff in here,” Roy pressed on, because no way in hell were they about to have an in-depth conversation about their respective childhoods with Lian present. “There’s some Arsenal stuff that we can move to the basement with the rest of my gear. There’s Lian’s old things that we need to go through together and decide what to keep. And then there’s… everything else. And I’ll need to find space in the rest of the house to store all that.”

Jason raised a skeptical eyebrow at Roy’s less-than-intricate planning process but chose not to comment on it. Roy continued, “Unfortunately most of these boxes aren’t labeled, so step one will be to go through everything and put it into piles based on what category it belongs in.”

“Whatever you need me to do, fearless leader,” Jason teased, offering a mock salute.

Roy ignored him. “Great. Let’s get to work.”

They started according to Roy’s plan, sorting everything into categories. The pile of Lian’s old things was by far the largest, dwarfing Roy’s Arsenal gear and the pile of “everything else.” They labeled all the boxes and Roy took his gear downstairs, refusing Jason’s help carrying anything.

“You’re injured,” Roy said.

“I can still carry things,” Jason argued, but Roy wouldn’t budge. “Fine, do all the heavy lifting on your own. But don’t come crying to me when your back hurts later.”

Roy slugged him in the (uninjured) arm. “Exactly how old do you think I am?”

After sorting, they largely left the “everything else” pile alone. Roy expressed that he would probably need to clean out various closets throughout the house to make room for it all. “I’ll do that next weekend,” he said. “Or tomorrow, if we have time.”

And then all that was left were Lian’s things.

“You’ve got a lot of stuff, kid,” Jason observed.

“I vote we take a snack break,” Roy said. “Lian, can you go pick out some snacks for us all to share?”

Lian hopped up eagerly. “Okay!” She loved being put in charge, no matter how small the task. She rushed out of the room, her little feet pounding on the wooden floors the whole way.

Once she was well out of earshot, Roy turned to Jason. “I’m really sorry she told Dick you were moving in,” he said, just as Jason was about to bring up that exact subject. “I forgot to tell her not to tell anyone.”

Jason shrugged. “It would’ve happened eventually.”

“Did he tell everyone else?”

“Yup.”

Roy shook his head. “Of course he did. How’d everyone react?”

“Insufferably.” Jason peeked out the doorway to make sure Lian was still nowhere near before quietly adding, “I’m pretty sure they all think we’re secretly fucking. Except Dick. I don’t think he can imagine a world where we’re fucking and he doesn’t know about it.”

“He is somehow always the first to know about everything.”

“I don’t know how he does it. I refuse to accept that he’s just a better detective than everyone else.”

“I think it’s a combination of good detective skills and actually paying attention to other people’s personal lives,” Roy postulated, “Which most of the rest of us don’t do.”

“I don’t have time for that,” Jason said. “Nor do I care.”

“Exactly. But Dick cares.”

Lian returned moments later with her arms filled with the wildest assortment of snacks Jason had ever laid eyes on: a big bag of homemade trail mix, a box of naturally flavored fruit snacks, and an entire jar of pickled jalapeños. Jason kept his judgments to himself.

After their snack break, the three of them started unpacking Lian’s old things and sorting them into even smaller piles, this time categorizing them by whether Roy would keep them and put them in Lian’s room, donate them to charity, or toss them in the trash. The charity pile quickly became the largest, since most of the items were still in good condition but no longer of any use or interest to Roy or Lian now that Lian was older. Roy bagged up all the donatable goods and moved them to the truck of his car.

By now the storage room was less than half as full as it had been to start off with, and everything that remained was organized. Realistically, Jason probably had enough room to move most of his stuff in. “I don’t need that much space,” he told Roy.

“This is going to be your home too,” Roy insisted. “You deserve the whole room to yourself. I’m not making you share it with a bunch of my stuff.”

Jason knew by now that there was no point in arguing.

That night, after putting Lian to bed, Roy resumed their conversation from earlier.

“If it makes you feel any better, she told my whole family about you moving in with us too.”

“What did Ollie say?” Oliver Queen was, quite famously, not a fan of Jason. To say the least. “Hold on, let me guess. He said he doesn’t trust me, he thinks I’m unreliable, and I’m a bad influence on Lian.” Jason ticked these points off on his fingers as he listed them.

“More or less,” Roy confirmed. “You know Ollie, he’s not happy unless he has something to complain about. Don’t worry, Dinah told him off for it.”

Jason scoffed. “I’m not worried. It’ll be a cold day in hell before I give a shit what Oliver Queen thinks of me.” Jason meant it, too.

“And I love that about you.” Roy said this so matter-of-factly, Jason didn’t have time to hone in on Roy’s choice of words before Roy was already changing the subject. “Connor and Mia want to visit once you’re all moved in.”

“Yeah, Dick probably will too. Haven’t decided if I’ll let him. He’s still on my shit list.”

“Noted.” A beat of silence, then, “You staying the night?”

It had pretty much become the norm that Jason stayed the night any time he visited. He looked forward to having an actual room here so he wouldn’t have to keep sleeping on the couch.

“Depends,” Jason answered. “Do you want to help me dismantle an arms trafficking ring?”

Roy grinned. “Do I want to help you dismantle an arms trafficking ring… is that even a question?” He elbowed Jason playfully. “Come on. You can fill me in on the details on the way.”

Jason and Roy patrolled together, then came home and Jason slept on the couch. Sunday, they did some more cleaning, patrolled together again, and he slept on the couch again.

A couple of weeks went by, and before Jason knew it, Lian was finished with school and he was in charge of watching her during the day. Well, partially. Before Jason had volunteered to watch Lian over the summer, Roy had apparently enrolled her in every summer camp in the area, so Lian was pretty booked. She had martial arts camp first for two weeks, then two weeks of art camp, then two weeks of soccer, and so on. Jason just had to get her ready in the mornings, drop her off, pick her up, and watch her until Roy got home from work.

In the meantime, the cuts on his hand healed and he removed the stitches himself. He hadn’t yet regained full dexterity or strength, but these were slowly coming back to him. He also had some gnarly new scars to add to his collection.

As part of his new routine, Jason spent many more nights than he used to sleeping on Roy’s couch, and it was starting to take a toll on his back, neck, and shoulders. One morning in particular, he woke with a crick in his neck so bad he couldn’t turn his head to the right without experiencing intense, shooting pain. He sat at the breakfast table massaging his neck muscles and feeling sorry for himself.

“What’s wrong with you?” Roy asked over the coffee he was making for both of them.

“My neck,” Jason complained. “Your couch sucks.”

“It wasn’t designed for sleeping. Maybe you should move your bed and the rest of your stuff here sooner rather than later.”

Roy, with Jason and Lian’s help, had completely cleared out the former storage room, now Jason’s bedroom. Jason had moved some of his stuff in, but most of his furniture was still in his apartment, mostly because he didn’t have a vehicle to move it in.

“I still need a place to sleep in my apartment,” he pointed out.

“Sure, but you spend more nights here. Why not sleep on your couch there and in your bed here?”

“A few reasons,” Jason explained. “First, I already got rid of my couch. Sold it online.”

“Why’d you do that?”

“I needed the money to pay for the moving truck. And I knew I wouldn’t have a place to put it here.”

Roy narrowed his eyes at Jason. “I could have lent you the money.”

“I’m not taking any more of your money,” Jason stated firmly. “Besides, that’s not the only reason I can’t sleep in my bed here. Like I said, I booked a moving truck, but I booked it for the day my lease ends. I can’t move the bed without it.”

“Use my car.”

Jason stared Roy down, not dignifying Roy’s suggestion with a response. Roy drove a city-friendly sedan. There was no way it would fit Jason’s bed frame, let alone the mattress.

“I’ll be fine,” Jason concluded. “I just have to make it one more month.” Then his lease would be up and all his stuff would be here and all his problems would be solved. Well, not all his problems – some of those bitches were unsolvable – but certainly the most pressing ones.

Roy didn’t seem satisfied by this answer. He continued to mull it over as he brought two full mugs of hot coffee to the breakfast table, handing one carefully to Jason. Jason sipped it gratefully. Roy sat down across from him.

After a few minutes of silence, Roy said, “Sleep in my bed.”

Jason once again stared at him. Roy met his gaze, unwavering. “I’m gonna give you a second to figure out why that won’t work,” Jason said. When Roy didn’t say anything, Jason asked pointedly, “Where are you gonna sleep?”

“There’s enough room for both of us. Like you said, it’s just a month.”

There was absolutely no way Jason was going along with this. But before he had a chance to argue, Roy dropped a bomb on him.

“If you really don’t feel comfortable sharing a bed, I can sleep on the couch and you can have the bed to yourself.”

Roy knew Jason would never in a million years agree to that arrangement. That, Jason suspected, was exactly why Roy had suggested it.

“Are you kidding?” Jason remarked. “At your age? You wouldn’t last a night sleeping on the couch.”

“Will you let me share with you, then?”

Jason was fully aware he’d been manipulated. He did kind of really want to sleep in a bed again, though. And sharing with Roy would hardly be the end of the world. They were close friends, so close they were moving in together. And Jason had had way worse sleeping arrangements. Including Roy’s incredibly uncomfortable couch.

“Fine,” he capitulated. “Out of the kindness of my heart, I’ll let you sleep in your own bed.”

“How magnanimous of you.”

The reality of the situation didn’t sink in until that night, when Jason and Roy came home from patrol, showered, changed, and met in Roy’s bedroom. Roy was already in bed, scrolling on his phone by lamplight.

Jason felt awkward getting into bed next to him, but was intensely aware that it would be even more awkward to linger by the side of the bed like a one-night stand who didn’t know whether to stay the night. So he climbed right in under the covers, but stayed toward the edge of the bed so a good foot of space remained between him and Roy.

Roy didn’t so much as glance up from his phone. Jason wasn’t sure whether Roy was acting so nonchalant about sharing a bed for Jason’s sake or because he legitimately didn’t consider it a big deal. They’d slept in close quarters before, on missions and such; maybe Roy didn’t think this was any different.

It was, though. At least, it was to Jason. This wasn’t some random hotel or motel or sketchy safe house in the worst part of Gotham. This was Roy’s bed, in Roy’s house. That felt significant. It felt like crossing a boundary, even if it was one he’d been invited to cross. And a part of Jason suspected that, once he did cross it, there was no going back. He wasn’t sure what that meant, but it had to mean something.

Nevertheless, Jason followed Roy’s lead, stowing his concerns away in one of the myriad dark corners of his mind where he stored shit he didn’t want to think about. He pulled out his phone too, to give himself something to do. After an indeterminate amount of time, Roy set his phone down. Jason thought they might finally acknowledge the elephant in the room, but no, apparently not.

“Mind if I turn off the light?” Roy asked.

“Yeah, sure,” Jason said. “Whatever.” He had to force a casual tone.

Roy turned off the light and laid down, facing away from Jason. He slept on his side with a pillow between his knees, again like an old man.

Jason laid down as well, and turned to face the other way. He had to admit, this was way comfier than Roy’s sofa. He was physically exhausted, but his mind was racing. He knew he wouldn’t be able to get much sleep like this, no matter how comfortable he was.

“Goodnight, Jason,” Roy said, catching Jason by surprise. Jason hadn’t expected him to say anything else.

“Goodnight,” Jason echoed.

Minutes passed in the dark. It was quiet out here in the suburbs, much quieter than Jason’s neighborhood in the Bronx. There were no cars honking, no people talking and laughing in the streets. The clock in the hall ticked away the seconds. Leaves rustled outside the bedroom window; a branch tapped against the glass in the breeze.

Jason listened to Roy’s breathing, steady and slow, but not slow enough to indicate Roy was already asleep. He, too, was lying awake. Jason wondered if he should say something, open a conversation between them. He felt compelled to warn Roy that, while he had it on good authority he didn’t snore, there was a good chance he’d keep Roy up with his tossing and turning, and he occasionally talked in his sleep.

But Roy already knew all this. As Jason had already established, he and Roy had shared rooms before. Roy knew what kind of sleeper Jason was, the same way Jason knew Roy had a hard time getting to sleep but once he was out, he snored like a monster truck and drooled in his sleep.

So instead of issuing a warning he knew would be unnecessary, Jason lay still and silent, listening, waiting, counting Roy’s inhales and exhales to give himself something more calming to focus on than his own thoughts. Eventually, the sound of Roy’s breathing was replaced with soft snores, growing louder as Roy sank deeper into unconsciousness.

Jason remained awake. He thought about picking up his phone again, but he knew he’d never get to sleep if he started scrolling. He kept his eyes closed and found himself focusing on the heat emanating from Roy’s body on the other side of the bed. It was strangely comforting, and sooner than he expected, Jason felt his mind going pleasantly hazy as sleep came to claim him.

Once he finally got to sleep, Jason was out like a light. He didn’t even notice Roy snoring. He didn’t toss and turn, didn’t dream, didn’t wake up in the middle of the night. When morning came, he found himself in the exact same position he’d been in when he’d fallen asleep. His neck felt noticeably better than the day before.

He turned over to find Roy had already gotten out of bed. Light streamed in from the bedroom window, mottled by the leaves of the tree that grew in front of Roy’s house.

Jason got up, went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth, ran a hand through his sleep-tousled hair, and made his way downstairs. As expected, Roy was in the kitchen, making breakfast.

“How’d you sleep?” Roy asked, standing in front of the stove, scrambling eggs. He’d left Jason a cup of coffee on the counter.

“Like a rock,” Jason answered truthfully.

“See? What’d I tell you?” Roy smirked. “Crazy the difference an actual bed makes.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jason waved a hand dismissively and picked up the cup of coffee to take a sip. It was still hot. “What about you? How did you sleep?”

“I slept fine,” Roy assured him. “You were quiet as a mouse. Told you it wouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Last night was the exception,” Jason warned. “I’m not usually like that.”

“I know what I signed up for.” Roy opened the fridge. “Now, what do you want for breakfast?”

Neither of them said anything more about their first night sleeping in the same bed, and there was an unspoken assumption that it would be their new routine, as long as neither of them objected to it, which Jason didn’t plan on doing. Not only had the experience been less awkward than he’d anticipated, but Roy’s bed had also been easily the second most comfortable bed Jason had ever slept in, with the exception of his bed at Wayne Manor.

“Is this memory foam?” he asked when, after another night of patrolling together, they both ended up in Roy’s room again.

“It’s a hybrid mattress with a memory foam topper,” Roy explained. “The pillows are memory foam, and the sheets are bamboo.”

“Oh my god, you’re even more of an old man than I thought.”

Roy was unfazed. “Make fun of me all you want, my bed is comfy as shit,” he retorted. To prove his point, he climbed in under the covers, pulling them up to his chest. Jason followed his lead.

“Don’t even try to argue with me,” Roy added. “I saw how well you slept last night. You’ve never looked that well-rested sleeping on the couch.”

“Alright, yes, it’s a comfy ass bed,” Jason relented.

“Haven’t shared it with anyone in a long time. Not since Lian was little. Well, littler,” Roy observed, noting this like it was a meaningless factoid. It felt meaningful to Jason, though. He was seriously the first person to share Roy’s bed in however many years?

“Really?” he asked. “You haven’t had any special houseguests in all that time?”

“No one’s stayed the night with me, no,” Roy said. “And before you ask, that doesn’t mean I haven’t gotten any action. Just… not a lot.”

“Playboy Roy, brought down by the trials of single parenthood,” Jason teased. “How the mighty fall.”

Roy scoffed. “Please. You haven’t even met Playboy Roy. He retired before you and I were ever friends.” A mischievous glint crossed Roy’s expression. “It’s a shame, though. I think you might’ve liked him.”

Something stirred inside Jason, something he immediately dismissed as the result of his own lackluster sex life. It had been a while for him too. Besides, he was only human.

He wondered, if he’d gotten to know Roy better when he was still a teenager and Roy was Dick’s cool older friend, if he would’ve had a crush on Roy. Jason had always had a thing for older guys.

It did not escape Jason that he was having these thoughts while in bed with Roy. He was choosing to ignore this. This situation was only awkward if they made it awkward, and Jason would not be the one to make it awkward.

“Well, if you ever decide to bring him out of retirement, let me know,” Jason said.

Roy smirked. “Oh, you’ll know.”

Jason had even less trouble falling asleep that night than the night before, though he found himself plagued with strange dreams that he only remembered bits and pieces of when he woke. It was early enough that Roy was still in the room, though he’d gotten out of bed and was getting dressed, buttoning his shirt and threading a belt through his jeans.

Roy’s day-to-day summer work ensemble screamed “cool teacher” in the cringiest possible way: short-sleeved button-down shirt in a flattering color with a few buttons left undone, straight-leg medium-wash blue jeans that had faded slightly at the knees, and nondescript sneakers. His tattoos peeked out under the sleeves of his shirt and he wore studs in his old piercings, three in one ear and one in the other.

Jason marveled for a moment that just last night he’d felt a flicker of attraction to this man, and then recoiled with horror as he realized he still felt it, even with Roy dressed like he was about to give a speech about how doing drugs wasn’t cool.

Was this what getting older meant? Now Jason was all of a sudden attracted to men who looked put together and responsible, instead of what he’d historically found attractive, which was the exact opposite?

Or, even worse, was it the fact that it was Roy in that button-down shirt and those straight-leg jeans that made Jason overlook the “cool teacher” of it all? Roy had always been an objectively attractive man, but Jason didn’t recall ever noticing it to the degree he now did.

Was this a result of them sharing a bed? Were cooties, in fact, real and Jason had been infected?

Jason cut himself off before he could venture further into this truly ridiculous territory. He was spiraling for no reason. It was a normal fact of life to experience occasional attraction to one’s friends. And Jason had been spending a lot more time around Roy lately, so of course he would notice it more. Everything was fine and normal and fine.

In an effort to distract himself, Jason returned his thoughts to what little he remembered of the strange dreams he’d had. He wondered if he’d kept Roy up by tossing and turning or talking in his sleep. He decided to ask.

“Did I keep you up last night?”

Roy looked over at Jason, caught off guard by the question. “Uh, not really, no. I slept fine. Why? Did you not sleep well?”

Jason shook his head. “Just had some weird dreams, is all.”

“Weird how?”

“I dreamt you almost married Sergey Kevorkov.”

“The Russian arms dealer?”

“That one, yeah.”

The wedding had been in a church, or what Jason imagined a church looked like based on TV and movies, because he’d never gone to church a day in his life. Wooden pews, stained glass windows, vaulted ceilings, big white cross on the wall, a priest, that sort of thing. Sergey was wearing a black suit, Roy a white one, and the pews were filled with Roy’s family and friends and other off-duty members of the superhero community.

“I’m a little insulted by that,” Roy said, unserious. “I mean, is he at least good-looking?”

Jason conjured up the details of Sergey’s appearance. He waved a hand vaguely. “Eh.”

“Ouch.” Roy laughed. “And when you say ‘almost’ married…”

Jason remembered sitting in one of the pews toward the back of the church, feeling a sense of confusion and dread. He knew something wasn’t right about the situation, and if nobody else was going to do anything about it, he was going to have to, for Roy’s sake.

He also remembered, in the dream, being weirdly uncomfortable with the idea of Roy marrying someone else. Not Sergey specifically – obviously that part was awful – but just… anyone. Which was even stranger than the dream itself.

“I stopped the wedding,” Jason explained. “You know, like how they do in the movies. Standing up and shouting, ‘I object!’”

“Well, thanks for saving me from marrying an unattractive arms dealer,” Roy said, clearly amused. “I’ll have you know I would only marry attractive former arms dealers. Like you. I have standards.”

Jason balked. For a split second, he forgot about Roy’s marriage-for-health insurance scheme and was wondering why Roy would mention marrying him. By the time he remembered, it had been a second too long, and there was no way Roy hadn’t noticed the awkward pause. Hopefully he’d blame it on the early morning. Jason hadn’t had his coffee yet.

“I’m definitely better looking than Sergey, but I’m not exactly marriage material,” Jason said, trying to recover.

“What does ‘marriage material’ look like to you?” Roy asked.

“Committed. Reliable. Stable.”

“You consider yourself unstable?”

“I think most people would.”

“Hm,” was all Roy said to that. Enigmatic fucker.

The nights that followed fell into a pattern: watching Lian, having dinner with Lian and Roy, putting Lian to bed, patrolling with Roy, and falling asleep next to Roy. This pattern grew familiar faster than Jason could have expected. Within a week, any lingering awkwardness around sharing a bed had faded. After two weeks, it felt practically mundane.

Jason didn’t have any other weird marriage dreams, featuring Roy or anyone else, so he dismissed the one he’d had as a one-off occurrence.

What Jason couldn’t dismiss, though, was something he began to notice during week three, which was that, not only had he not had any more strange dreams, he also hadn’t had a nightmare since he’d started sleeping in Roy’s bed. It could have been a coincidence, or it could’ve been a result of sleeping on Roy’s expensive mattress. Jason’s overall sleep quality was much higher than it used to be.

Whatever the reason, Roy and Jason’s month of sharing a bed was almost over by the time Jason’s streak of good luck ended. It was the night before Jason’s lease ended, and the stress of his impending move must have been getting to him, because he couldn’t get to sleep, and when he finally did, he plunged straight into a nightmare.

On this particular night, Roy was also having trouble sleeping, which Jason knew because when the nightmare woke him in the early hours of the morning, Roy was lying awake next to him, looking simultaneously restless and exhausted. Jason knew the feeling.

“Can’t sleep?” Jason asked.

“Nope,” Roy answered.

“I’m not keeping you awake, am I?”

“It’s not your fault, no. Just can’t get my brain to shut up. You know how it is.”

“Yeah.”

Jason ran a hand over Roy’s silky bamboo sheets, letting the sensation ground him as he focused on slowing down his heart rate and breathing. He should have been a pro at recovering from nightmares by now, but somehow his brain continuously came up with new shit to throw at him that caught him off guard. Half the time the dreams were more traumatizing than his actual trauma, and that was saying something.

“I don’t think I’ll get much sleep either,” Jason admitted. “Not after that.” He knew Roy would know what he meant.

“Rough one?” Roy asked, sympathetic.

“You could say that.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not particularly.”

Roy cracked a smile. “It wasn’t about Sergey this time, was it?”

Jason appreciated Roy’s attempt at levity, so even though he didn’t find it particularly funny – not in his current mental state – he threw Roy a chuckle. “Not this time.”

Roy changed the subject. “You think you’ll get enough sleep for the move tomorrow?”

“Eh,” Jason said, unbothered. “I’m used to running on no sleep. I’ll be fine. What about you?” Roy had volunteered to help Jason haul his stuff on and off the moving truck.

“Same,” Roy echoed. “I’ll survive. And I’m sure you’ll sleep better in your own bed again.”

Jason wasn’t so sure, but he wouldn’t admit it. He didn’t know how to say, “Actually, it seems like I sleep much better sharing your bed than I ever did in my own,” in a way that wouldn’t make this awkward. Jason was sticking to the promise he’d made himself that he wouldn’t be the one to make sharing a bed awkward.

So instead, he said, “I’m sure you’ll sleep better with the room to yourself again.”

Roy made a noncommittal sound, neither confirming nor denying, and for the first time Jason wondered whether it was possible Roy was also sleeping better in their current arrangement.

Which would mean it wasn’t the hybrid mattress, memory foam topper, memory foam pillows, and bamboo sheets that were helping Jason sleep. It was the presence of another human being. And not just anyone, because Jason had shared a bed with others before and never noticed a difference. It was specifically Roy.

What the hell did that mean? 

They were quiet for a moment, Jason staring down at the bedsheets, Roy staring up at the ceiling. Roy finally broke the silence.

“Is there anything else I can do?” he offered. “To help you sleep, I mean.”

Jason turned to meet Roy’s gaze, finding it held an unexpected intensity. Jason felt something stir inside him again. He blinked and snapped himself out of it.

“Got any boring stories?” he joked.

“Have I told you the one about my first parent-teacher conference?” Roy offered.

Jason laid back down, just a little bit closer to Roy than he normally would be. He typically slept facing the door, but this time he faced Roy, settling in for the story. “Let’s hear it.”

Chapter Text

Roy and Jason woke up grumpy and disheveled from not enough sleep. Outside, the sky was overcast, threatening rain.

Of course it would rain on Jason’s moving day. The universe needed some way to remind him that it hated him.

They fished a trio of rain jackets out of Roy’s coat closet: two of Roy’s, in nondescript gray and hunter green, and a bright red jacket with matching boots for Lian. “Are you excited to help Jay move today?” Roy asked her as he distributed umbrellas from the same cluttered coat closet.

Lian nodded and bounced up and down with excitement, her rubber boots squeaking against the wood floor. She moved to open her bright green frog umbrella before Roy stopped her.

“Uh-uh,” he warned. “Wait until we’re outside, okay?”

They grabbed a stack of empty boxes that used to hold Lian’s things in the storage room-turned-Jason’s room and stuffed them into the back of Roy’s sedan. Lian buckled herself into the backseat and Jason joined Roy up front, immediately taking control of the stereo, ignoring Lian’s cries of, “Play Taylor Swift!”

“We’ve been listening to Taylor Swift all week,” he countered. “Let’s pick something else.” What he didn’t say was that if he heard the song “Bejeweled” one more time he was going to blow his brains out, because that was obviously an inappropriate thing to say to an eight-year-old, even if it was the truth. (What he also didn’t say was that if anyone he was related to ever found out he could now quote the entire Midnights album from memory, his reputation was ruined. Speaking of which, he could probably quote the entire Reputation album too.)

Lian huffed in annoyance, crossed her arms over her chest, and kicked the back of Jason’s seat.

“Hey,” Roy scolded, glancing over his shoulder as he backed out of the driveway. “Be nice.”

“Play Dua Lipa,” she demanded, ignoring her father.

This, Jason decided, was an acceptable compromise, and he put on Dua Lipa.

The moving truck company was just about halfway between Roy’s place and Jason’s. They stopped there first, Lian getting out of the car with them and following them into the front office, where they had to wait in a short line for Jason to get the keys to the truck.

While they waited, Lian – who had calmed down after a couple of Dua Lipa tracks – made small talk. “Jay, how long are you gonna live with us?” she asked, swinging her arms back and forth out of boredom.

It was a good question. One Jason hadn’t thought that much about. Ever since he’d come back to life, he’d been – to put it generously – living in the moment. It was like he didn’t know what to do with his future now that he suddenly had one.

It was all fine, though. He was adaptable. He had a place to live now, and that was really all that mattered. If he wore out his welcome with Roy, he’d figure out another option. He always did.

So he answered, “I’m not sure.”

He’d stay at least until Roy renewed the lease, most likely. Come to think of it, Jason wasn’t actually sure when that was. He probably should have asked about that. He knew Roy had put him on the lease, keeping everything above board. As above board as it could be, with Jason’s fake post-resurrection identity, but still.

Roy chimed in. “You can stay as long as you want.”

He said this so casually, like it was nothing to promise Jason a place to stay “as long as he wanted.” Like he wasn’t the second person to ever offer Jason that kind of stability.

Jason swallowed around a sudden lump in his throat. Thinking about the last time he’d experienced stability never led his brain in a productive direction. He glanced around the room for something to distract himself, but it was about as entertaining as the DMV in there.

Lian was speaking. “Can he stay forever?” she asked Roy. Jason cut in before Roy could answer in the only way Jason knew he would, making promises they both knew he couldn’t keep.

“I don’t know about that,” Jason said. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and kept his gaze on the white-and-beige speckled floor tiles beneath his feet, tuning out the rest of Roy and Lian’s conversation until they reached the front desk.

Keys in hand, Jason followed an employee to the truck he’d rented. Once the employee left, Roy pulled Jason aside, speaking in a low tone so Lian couldn’t hear. She was conveniently distracted by a slug that was making its way slowly across the pavement.

“What happened back there?” he questioned, looking concerned. “You know you can live with us as long as you need. I’m not gonna kick you out.”

Jason scoffed. Was that what Roy thought he was worried about? Did he know Jason at all? Jason knew how to handle major life changes. He could roll with the punches with the absolute best of them.

No, it wasn’t the prospect of Roy kicking him out that worried Jason. It was the possibility that Roy never would.

“You and I both know you’re not serious,” Jason dismissed.

“You and I both know I am,” Roy argued. “After all, I already offered to marry you.”

Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes. They were seriously talking about this again? He thought Roy had finally gotten over that crazy idea. “I assumed even if we did that – which we’re not going to do – we’d get divorced once I didn’t need your health insurance anymore. Or once you found someone you wanted to marry for real.”

“I feel like I’ve already established that I’m not exactly looking for someone I want to marry ‘for real.’”

“Sometimes those things happen when you least expect it.” Not to Jason, but to other people. So he’d heard.

“Sure, I guess. Currently, though, you’re my only prospect. And am I right in assuming you still don’t have a different plan to get your own health insurance?”

Jason glared. “Not exactly, no.”

Roy sighed. “Do you have any kind of long-term plan? At all?”

The implied judgment in Roy’s question made Jason bristle. Jason would acknowledge his own lack of a plan for the future to himself, but no one else needed to bring up that shit with him. His poor planning was his own business.

“What are you, my dad?” Jason snapped, intentionally cutting off any possibility of a productive conversation with his immature response.

Roy almost certainly knew what Jason was doing, but he let him get away with it. “No, I’m your friend,” he said. “And you’re the one who mentioned wanting to be more stable.”

“I mentioned the fact that I’m not,” Jason corrected him. “I didn’t say I wanted to be.”

They drove separately to Jason’s building, Jason leading the way in the moving truck, Roy following in his sedan. They parked on the street and Jason led the way up the stairs to his apartment. The elevator was out of service; for as long as Jason had lived there it had never been in service.

Jason went through the same elaborate ritual he had to endure every time he wanted to enter his apartment: key in the lock, jiggle the door handle, and shove the door open with his shoulder. The hinges squealed in protest and tiny chips of white, probably lead-based paint fell from the doorframe like snow.

Inside, the apartment was nearly empty, Jason’s mattress wrapped in a clear plastic sheet to keep it clean during the move, his bed frame disassembled, the few items he hadn’t already brought over to Roy’s in piles on the floor. He’d sold all the furniture he would no longer have room for at Roy’s place: the couch, the coffee table, the kitchen table and two mismatched chairs. All that was left were the mattress and bed frame, his TV and console table, a nightstand, and a bookshelf.

Roy whistled. “You weren’t kidding about not having a lot of stuff,” he said, visibly taken aback.

“I’ve already moved most of it,” Jason replied. “We’ve just gotta get the furniture, and some random leftover stuff.”

“Can I help?” Lian asked, eager to be of assistance.

“Of course,” Jason told her. “You can hold the door while we carry things. We’ll start with the bed.”

“There’s not much else to start with,” Roy muttered under his breath, but he didn’t protest as Jason led him to the full-sized mattress, one of the only things Jason still had left from his old place in Gotham. Most of his old furniture he’d left behind for convenience’s sake, buying new (used) stuff upon arriving in New York. But the mattress he’d brought with him, because the idea of sleeping on a used mattress gave him the ick.

Together, Roy and Jason carried the mattress down to the truck, Lian trailing at their heels and holding doors open for them along the way.

“Is Jay gonna sleep in his room now that he has his own bed?” she asked. She was the only person, outside of Roy and Jason, who knew they’d been sharing a bed. Roy had sworn her to secrecy.

“Yes,” Jason answered immediately.

“Bet you’re gonna miss my ‘old man’ bed sleeping on this thing,” Roy teased, giving Jason’s mattress a slap.

“It’s not that bad,” Jason retorted.

“Please. I’ve felt softer bricks.”

They emerged onto the street and eased the mattress onto the truck. Once the task was complete, Jason stood there with his hands on his hips. “Maybe I like a firm mattress,” he said defensively, though he was mostly joking. He knew his mattress was a piece of shit. He just couldn’t afford a new one.

“There’s firm and then there’s rock solid. A caveman wouldn’t sleep on this,” Roy insisted.

Jason rolled his eyes and pushed past Roy into the building. “Come on, Grandpa; let’s get the rest of my stuff before it starts raining.”

They were halfway through loading the truck when the heavens opened, pouring rain down in buckets. They debated waiting out the worst of the storm, but according to the weather forecast, it was supposed to continue on like this well into the night. So instead they wrapped anything the rain could possibly damage in garbage bags and duct tape and carried it onto the truck as quickly as they could without slipping and falling on their asses.

By the time they’d packed the last of Jason’s stuff into the truck, they were all running on short fuses and getting on each other’s nerves and in each other’s way. They were wet, tired, and hungry, and they weren’t even halfway through the day. They still had to drive the truck to Roy’s house and unload everything there, then fill the truck up with gasoline and drop it back off before the end of the day so Jason didn’t get charged extra.

So when they pulled up to Roy’s driveway and there was a familiar ugly orange muscle car waiting out front, Jason didn’t know whether to feel relieved or homicidal.

Dick stepped out of the vehicle wearing a bright blue rain jacket with the hood pulled up and waved at Jason. “Hey! Sorry I’m late!”

“Dick!” Lian exclaimed, overjoyed. She burst out of Roy’s car and ran face-first into Dick’s arms; he swept her off her feet and twirled her around in the air three times before setting her back down.

“Late for what?” Jason asked bluntly, ignoring Lian. “You weren’t invited. How did you even know I was moving today?”

Dick grinned that infuriating, cheeky grin that invariably made Jason want to punch him in the face. “Aw, come on, it wasn’t like you made it difficult! You registered the truck under the same fake name you use for everything else.”

“Because that’s my legal identity.”

“Exactly. So all I had to do was check the records of all the moving truck companies with offices in your area for your alias and then figure out what day you booked the truck. Come on, Jason, this is elementary school detective work.”

Dick was extremely lucky Lian was there, because if she hadn’t been, Jason would have punched him in the face. “Why are you late, then?” Jason challenged, searching for a nick in Dick’s perfect detective facade.

“Traffic,” Dick said easily. “Anyway, looks like I’m here in time to help you unpack. Let’s get going.”

Roy came up behind Jason, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Might as well let him have this one,” he said quietly in Jason’s ear. Jason grimaced but gave in. After all, they could use the extra pair of hands.

With Dick’s help, the process of unloading the truck was nearly twice as fast as the process of loading it had been. With all their extra time, they got everything situated in Jason’s room, stripped off the protective garbage bags and plastic sheets, reassembled the bed frame, and set up the TV.

Finally, once all the work was done, Roy collapsed on Jason’s bed. Spread out like a starfish, he nearly took up the whole thing.

“Mm. Yeah. This is way less comfortable,” he announced to the room.

Dick looked up from the boxes he was flattening for recycling. “Less comfortable than what?”

“I was telling Jay earlier that my bed is more comfortable than his,” Roy explained, conveniently leaving out any details related to him and Jason sharing said bed. He and Jason both knew Dick would be absolutely insufferable about those particular details if he had access to them.

Dick sat down on the edge of Jason’s bed, giving the mattress a hard slap. “Yeah, hard to be less comfortable than… this.”

Lian shot to her feet. “I wanna try!” She took a running start and leapt into Jason’s bed. Roy caught her and rolled on top of her, tickling her until she shrieked.

“What do you think, princess?” he asked upon releasing her. “Whose bed is the comfiest?”

“Mine!” she proclaimed.

Roy smiled fondly. “You do have a pretty comfy bed. You think it’s better than mine?”

“Yeah,” Lian said, nodding seriously. “Plus I have way more stuffed animals than you.”

“That’s true.”

“Maybe Jay needs some stuffed animals to make his bed comfier,” Dick suggested.

“He can borrow one of mine!” Lian offered.

“That’s very nice of you,” Roy said. “I’m sure Jay would love that.” He turned to Jason, prompting him to agree.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna pick just one,” Jason admitted. “You have so many.”

Lian got up again, her eyes lit up with excitement. “Ooh, I’ll pick! Can I pick?”

Roy patted her on the back. “Go pick one for him. We’ll wait here.”

Lian clambered off the bed and ran out of the room. Roy scooted over and patted the now-empty space beside him. Jason climbed into bed. Conscious of the fact that Dick was watching them, he kept several inches of space between him and Roy, but Roy ruined this by reaching an arm around Jason’s shoulders and drawing him near.

Dick raised an eyebrow. “You guys look cozy,” he observed.

“We’re not,” Roy said flatly.

“There’s no way Dick sleeps on a better mattress than this,” Jason countered. “Everyone knows you’re almost as much of a cheapskate as I am.”

“I’ll have you know I actually just bought a new mattress,” Dick said, “And it is way more comfortable than this.”

“Well, that’s probably for the best, since you’re an old man now too.”

The sound of Lian’s bare feet slapping against the hardwood floor heralded her return. She triumphantly held a fuzzy, soft stuffed bat over her head.

“I got this one for you, Jay,” she announced.

Jason took the bat and tousled Lian’s hair. “Thanks, buddy.”

“You’re welcome!”

Dick stood abruptly, dusting his hands off on his jeans. “If that’s all you guys need help with, do you want me to drive with you to drop off the moving truck, Jason?”

Jason was slightly taken aback by the sudden change of pace, but he sat up and nodded. “Sure.”

“I almost forgot how much I fucking hate this car,” Jason complained as he got in the passenger seat of Dick’s ugly car after dropping off the moving truck. Dick smirked but didn’t say anything, looking over his shoulder to safely back out of his parking spot.

They drove in silence for several minutes. This, too, was odd. Dick was normally a chatterbox every time he got around family, like he knew he had to talk extra to make up for how taciturn the rest of his siblings were. Jason was going to ask what was up, and why Dick was in such a hurry to get out of Roy’s house earlier, but before he could formulate the question, Dick gave him a pretty sizable clue.

“So, you and Roy…”

Jason glared. That explained everything. Dick had suspicions that Jason and Roy were something other than strictly platonic roommates and he needed to get Jason alone to interrogate him.

Dick’s motives were never as innocent as he pretended they were.

“Don’t start,” Jason warned. “Tim is already bad enough. I don’t get why he’s so invested in me and Roy. He hardly even knows Roy.”

“That’s not what he’s invested in. He’s invested in you being queer. He’s the only member of the family who’s out.”

“Yeah, officially, I guess. But, I mean, come on.” Jason gestured to himself. “He’s supposed to be some brilliant detective; he can’t figure this one out?”

“It’s not the same,” Dick explained. “Not to him.”

“Well, he can build a bridge and get over it, because I don’t see any reason why I should have to come out when I’ve never tried to make it a secret that I’m queer. Coming out is an outdated ritual, anyway. Why don’t cisgender straight people ever have to ‘come out’ to the rest of us?”

“It might be outdated for some of us, sure, but it means a lot to—”

“Hold on.” Jason cut in. “What do you mean, ‘some of us’?”

Dick glanced over at Jason, one eyebrow raised. “You heard me.”

Jason paused, recalibrating. Dick was queer?

No. Yeah. That actually made complete and total sense. The wardrobe choices, especially. Yeah, Dick was definitely queer.

It was actually a testament to Jason’s self-centered worldview that he’d never picked up on it until Dick spelled it out for him. Maybe Roy was right; Dick was a better detective than the rest of them because he actually cared about other people’s personal lives.

“Huh,” was all Jason had to say about that.

“And you know Cass and Steph have their whole ‘roommates’ bit going on,” Dick continued, easily moving on from the topic of his own sexuality. “‘Roommates’ in a one-bedroom apartment… sure.”

“So it’s just Duke and Damian,” Jason surmised. “And Bruce.”

Dick snorted. Jason turned to look at him, genuinely surprised this time. “What, not Bruce?”

“Not even remotely.”

If Jason really thought about it, that actually kind of made sense too.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Dick said, recapturing Jason’s attention and refocusing it on the matter at hand, which was apparently still the status of Jason and Roy’s relationship.

Jason decided to be obstinate. (When did he not?) “You didn’t ask one.”

Dick sighed but played along. “What’s the deal with you and Roy?”

“We’re roommates,” Jason answered honestly. Then, remembering Dick’s whole bit about Cass and Steph, he added, “Not one-bedroom apartment roommates. You saw. I have my own separate bedroom and my own separate bed. There’s no funny business happening.” Other than an odd bit of bed-sharing that Jason was still not going to tell Dick about. Or anyone else for that matter. “Anyway, why are you so eager for me to date your friend?” Jason asked, turning the tables on Dick.

“I’m not.”

Jason narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “You just want to be the first to know about it if I do.”

Dick smirked again. “Possibly.”

“Just for that, if I ever do start dating Roy – which I won’t – but if I do, I’m telling Tim before you.”

That smirk didn’t go anywhere. If anything, Dick only looked more smug. “You can certainly try.”

Dick stayed for dinner, then left as the sun was going down to get back to Blüdhaven in time for patrol. Meanwhile, Roy, Jason, and Lian killed the hours between sundown and bedtime by unpacking the rest of Jason’s stuff in his room.

When they were finally done – clothes put away, bed made, books lined up on the bookshelf – they somehow all ended up on Jason’s bed again, Lian sandwiched between them, cuddling the bat plush she’d brought for Jason. Before long, she’d dozed off. Roy and Jason lowered their voices so as not to wake her.

“Okay, you gotta admit—” Roy began quietly.

Jason interrupted him. “Your mattress is more comfortable,” he finally admitted. At this point, there was no denying it. Compared to Roy’s hybrid mattress, memory foam topper, memory foam pillows, and bamboo sheets, Jason’s mattress was hard as a board, his pillows were flimsy and useless, and his sheets were like sandpaper. “Maybe I’ll buy a new one with the money I’ll save on rent by living here.”

“You’re supposed to put that money toward paying your medical bills,” Roy reminded him.

Jason scoffed. “Now you’re my dad and my financial advisor?”

“I’m being serious,” Roy said, his expression mirroring his sentiment. “If you’re just going to end up in the same situation over and over again, barely making ends meet with no money left over for emergencies, maybe you really should consider getting on my health insurance.”

Jason turned over, facing away from Roy. He was sick of having the same conversation over and over again. He’d thought, by moving in with Roy, that he’d successfully put the marriage discussion to bed, metaphorically speaking. “I thought we dropped this.”

“I thought you were finally taking your life seriously,” Roy countered.

“What gave you that impression?”

“You agreed to move in with me. You’re making smart financial choices.”

“I made one smart financial choice.”

“Why not make another?”

Jason turned back over, meeting Roy’s gaze. His intention had been to drive his point home, but he was caught off guard by how close Roy’s face was, mere inches away. His hesitation ended up having the opposite effect he’d been looking for.

“Marriage is not a ‘financial choice,’” he finally said, voice low not just because of Lian, but because he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. It wasn’t the same shortness of breath he experienced during an anxiety or panic attack, either. It was something different.

“Of course it is,” Roy said. “Always has been.”

A strange tension hung between them, uncomfortable in its newness. Jason felt an indescribable pull, a desire to get even closer to Roy, even though any closer and they’d be on top of each other.

Fuck, now he was thinking about something else entirely.

Jason got up and out of the bed, reestablishing space between them. Roy looked nonplussed, almost like he’d expected this to happen. Maybe he always looked like that.

That night, after putting Lian to bed, Roy and Jason got ready for patrol down in the basement, which was now their joint base of operations. Jason was still caught up thinking about the weird moment they’d shared in his bed. There had been a solid sixty seconds there, at least, when he’d seriously contemplated doing something entirely out of character. Something like… kissing Roy.

Maybe it was the conversation he’d had with Dick in the car, about queerness and whether Roy and Jason were strictly platonic roommates (they were). Maybe it was Roy’s repeated marriage proposals. Maybe it was, once again, Jason’s dormant sex drive crying out for something, anything, even if it ruined the best, most supportive and secure relationship Jason had in his life.

Whatever it was, it had Jason in a bad headspace. He needed time alone to clear his head. Above all, he needed time away from Roy and any discussion of marriage, or even the possibility of discussing marriage.

So he said, halfway into his Red Hood uniform, “I think we should split up tonight.”

Roy looked up from where he was standing in the skintight, sweat-wicking layer he wore underneath his Arsenal uniform. Jason pointedly avoided eye contact with his bulge. (Though he’d be lying if he said he’d never noticed it before. Arsenal was packing more than just arrows.)

Jason cleared his throat and continued, “Now that we’ve dismantled Sergey’s arms trafficking ring, there’s really no need for us to team up.”

Roy looked confused for a moment. They’d taken down the last remnants of Sergey’s arms trafficking ring weeks ago. He had to know Jason was only using that as a convenient excuse for them to patrol separately.

Sure enough: “Is this about the marriage thing? Because I wasn’t trying to push it on you—”

“Bullshit,” Jason preempted, zipping up his jacket and pulling on his gloves. “If you weren’t trying to push, why do you keep bringing it up?”

“I’ve brought it up twice since you agreed to move in with us. It’s not like I’m constantly talking about it.” Roy finally put his pants on, to Jason’s great relief. “But yeah, I’m gonna keep bringing it up as long as I’m still worried about you. And I am. You don’t have a plan to pay off your medical debt, you don’t have a plan to pay your future medical bills… you don’t have a plan for anything.”

Jason shrugged and put on his domino mask. “I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?”

“First of all, you literally died once, so that’s not the flex you think it is,” Roy pointed out. “Secondly, you had your dad’s money until recently. You might not have known it, but you still did. Now you don’t even have that to fall back on.”

“I could always return to a life of crime.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Before Jason could protest, Roy explained himself, “I feel like if you were going to return to a life of crime, you would have done it already. I don’t think you actually want to return to a life of crime.” Roy paused, then added, “I don’t think you know what you want.”

Jason put the helmet on, the final layer of defense between him and the rest of the world. “Now he’s my therapist,” he muttered.

Roy was starting to get worked up. He hid it well – only someone who really knew him would have been able to detect the subtle signs – but Jason could see it in the set of his jaw, the narrowing of his eyes, and he could hear it in the slight edge in Roy’s tone. “No,” Roy said, “Because you don’t have one of those. Something else you could look into if you had health insurance.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Jason threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “Why won’t you just let me live my fucking life?”

“Because I know someone else who took the same approach to life that you do,” Roy said, pointing a finger at the red bat symbol on Jason’s chest. “Someone who didn’t have a plan for his future or know what he wanted. And you kinda remind me of him sometimes. Which fucking worries me.” Roy let his hand fall down by his side as the edge slipped from his tone, revealing a vulnerability underneath it. “I can’t watch you end up like he did.”

Jason wasn’t stupid. He could read between the lines. He knew Roy was talking about himself.

“I dunno,” Jason said, easing up a little as well. “I think he turned out alright.”

“Yeah, against all odds,” Roy retorted. “It could have just as easily gone another way. It almost did.”

“I won’t let it get that far,” Jason promised.

Roy gave him a sad smile. “That’s what I said.”

They patrolled separately. Jason got the chance he needed to clear his head. It didn’t do him much good, though. He missed several easy shots that night. He didn’t know what was wrong with him.

By the time he got home, even later than usual, Roy was nowhere to be seen, his dirty uniform left in the hamper and his bow and quiver hung up with the rest of their equipment. Jason stripped out of his own uniform and trudged upstairs in his undershirt and leggings for a shower.

By default, he almost made his way to the master bathroom, but he caught himself at the last second, his hand resting on the door to Roy’s room. He took a quiet step backward, then redirected himself to the bathroom down the hall, which he now shared with Lian.

He showered efficiently, careful to keep his mind blank and avoid any of the several minefields that littered his mental and emotional landscape: beds, marriage, healthcare, therapy. Roy.

Bundled up in a housecoat he’d “borrowed” (stolen) from Roy, he slipped silently into the guest room, changed into pajamas, and climbed into bed.

It was way less comfortable than Roy’s. That much had been established. But it was also lonelier, something Jason hadn’t expected to notice, much less mourn. He missed Roy’s presence next to him, solid and secure.

Sleep didn’t come to him right away; he had to chase it. When he finally slipped into the realm of the unconscious, he found all his usual nightmares there waiting for him.

Chapter Text

The next morning, to Jason’s great relief, Roy acted as though nothing had happened the night before. They ate breakfast together with Lian as normal, Roy went off to work, and Jason dropped Lian off at coding camp.

Normally, at this time of day, Jason would start making deliveries to earn some money while Lian was out, but today he had other plans. There was a gun range outside the city he’d visited a few times before moving in with Roy. He’d fallen out of practice after injuring his hand in the fight with Sergey. He still experienced occasional numbness and tingling in that hand, something he hadn’t told anyone about. He knew what Roy would say: that he needed physical therapy. Which meant he needed health insurance. Which meant he had to marry Roy.

In addition to probable nerve damage, Jason’s head clearly wasn’t in the right place either. He couldn’t stop thinking about the conversations he’d been having lately with Roy, about the future. And he couldn’t stop thinking about all the little moments with Roy when he felt something that didn’t square with their completely platonic friendship.

All this combined – the injury, his mental state – meant Jason was missing easy shots. He was hesitating. That couldn’t happen.

He spent all afternoon at the gun range practicing, shooting the center out of target after target. In this controlled environment, his skills were as sharp as they always had been.

He came home and showered before picking Lian up, taking her with him as he made a few deliveries just to make ends meet that day. She was used to tagging along like this; she spent the drive playing Pokémon on her Nintendo Switch, holding up the screen for Jason to see every time she caught something particularly cute or rare.

That night, Jason and Roy patrolled separately again. If things between them were slightly cooler than normal, Jason didn’t say anything about it. His focus was elsewhere. He needed to figure out whether his skills really had gotten rusty or if it was all in his head. If it was the former, he could practice and gain back his lost prowess. If it was the latter…

Jason would cross that bridge when he came to it.

Patrol that night brought even more disappointment. Shockingly enough, a singular afternoon at the gun range had not solved all of Jason’s problems. He was going to need more practice.

In the following days, Jason developed a new routine around his efforts to get his groove back: eat breakfast, drop off Lian, practice at the gun range, pick up Lian, make deliveries, and be home in time for dinner and Roy’s return from work. He continued patrolling alone, and while his aim at the range was always impeccable, he continued to miss easy shots at night. His hand would cramp up, or his trigger finger would twitch a moment too soon. All things that were easy to dismiss given his somewhat recent injury, except that they only bothered him in the heat of the moment, and never when he was practicing at the range.

On the weekend, instead of spending time around the house with Roy and Lian, which was what he’d been doing practically ever since he’d moved to New York, Jason got up first thing in the morning on Saturday, got on his motorcycle, and drove, out of the city, through the suburbs, hours north until he was driving past fields and forests and the occasional small town. Hunting season wouldn’t start up for at least another month, but there were outdoor shooting ranges up here that posed a greater challenge than an indoor gun range with paper targets.

Jason booked a motel room for the night and spent the weekend out in nature, leaving all his complicated bullshit behind in New York City. The American healthcare system, the gig economy, his complicated feelings for his best friend and the fact that he hadn’t gotten a good night’s sleep since the two of them had stopped sharing a bed… None of that existed out here. There was only him, his pistol, his rifle, and the range.

Sunday evening, he got home well after dark, having gotten caught in traffic on the way back. He found Roy on the sofa playing Horizon Forbidden West on the living room TV. Lian was nowhere to be seen (or heard), leading Jason to assume she’d gone to bed already.

As soon as Jason closed and locked the front door behind him, Roy paused his game and turned to address Jason. His expression was carefully devoid of emotion.

Jason became suddenly and deeply aware that he had somehow, in some way, fucked up.

“Where have you been all weekend?” Roy asked. His tone was equally difficult to read, though there was an edge to it that gave him away. He was pissed.

“Shooting range,” Jason said, hoping a good excuse could make this all go away. “I fell out of practice while my hand was injured, and the indoor range wasn’t cutting it.”

“If it’s anything like shooting a bow and arrow, it should come back to you quickly.”

“Yeah, I’m not too worried about it.” This was a lie, but it was one Jason was telling even himself, so telling it to someone else hardly felt like it counted.

“Any particular reason you didn’t feel like telling me where you were going?”

Like a cartoon light bulb turning on over his head, Jason suddenly realized what this was about. It was obvious now that he thought about it. He was used to living alone, being beholden to no one but himself, but of course Roy would worry if Jason fucked off without giving him so much as a clue as to where he was going, what he was doing, or when he’d be back. Not only were they best friends and roommates, Jason was Roy’s primary form of childcare for Lian. It was irresponsible as fuck for Jason to leave with no notice.

Jason felt immediately and immensely guilty and, even more than that, stupid. “Shit, Roy, I… didn’t even think about it, honestly,” he admitted, wincing.

“You had me thinking you were avoiding me,” Roy told him.

“What? Why would I be avoiding you?”

“I thought I might’ve gone too far the other night, comparing you to, well, me,” Roy said.

That’s what Roy thought this was about? “You seriously think I’d be so insulted that you compared me to yourself that I’d avoid you all weekend?” Jason cracked a smile in an attempt to break the tension. “And here I thought I had self-esteem issues.”

“Not a lot of people would welcome the comparison to a suicidal addict,” Roy pointed out.

“I’ve been called worse.” Jason shrugged. “I’m not avoiding you. I just needed the practice. I didn’t think about how it might look. I’m not used to having other people around to tell where I’m going and what I’m doing. I usually just… go.”

“If you need alone time, that’s fine,” Roy said. “You just have to tell me. Just don’t start disappearing for days on end. I mean, Christ, Jason, Lian was worried sick.”

Jason winced again. He’d forgotten about Lian too. He probably owed her an apology.

“I’ll do that from now on,” Jason promised. “Seriously, it won’t happen again.”

“Alright. And I promise I won’t bring up the marriage thing anymore. I know it bothers you,” Roy conceded. He added, as an afterthought, “Unless you end up in the hospital again. Then all bets are off.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “I didn’t ‘end up’ in the hospital; you made me go.”

Roy waved a hand. “Details.” He picked his controller back up, signaling that the conversation was over. “Now go tell Lian you’re back.”

“Right.”

Jason took the stairs two at a time and knocked gently on Lian’s door. The light was on inside, so he suspected she wasn’t asleep yet, but just in case, he asked, “Hey, Lian, you awake in there?”

Footsteps, then the door swung open, revealing Lian in her Bluey pajamas. “You’re back!” she exclaimed, throwing her arms around Jason in a hug. “Where did you go?”

“Oh, just on a little trip. I needed some outdoor time. I’ve been seeing you go to all your fancy camps all day and I guess I got a little jealous.”

Lian released Jason. “Yeah, they’re pretty fun. Did you have fun?”

“Fun” wasn’t exactly the word Jason would use to describe it, but in eight-year-old terms… sure. “I did, yeah. And I promise next time I go on a trip, I’ll tell you first.”

“You should probably tell Dad first,” Lian said. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “I think he was mad at you.”

“He was probably just worried that he didn’t know where I was,” Jason explained, not wanting Lian to think there was any bad blood between him and her father. She didn’t need that stress in her life. “We talked about it, and now everything’s good.”

Lian nodded. “Good.” She turned and looked behind her, into her room, then back at Jason. “Do you wanna read to me tonight?”

This was something Jason had done with Lian quite a few times when she’d been younger, before Jason had moved to New York. Any time he visited and stayed the night, she would ask him to read her a bedtime story, colorful picture books about woodland creatures and female historical figures, to get her to go to sleep. Nowadays, though, Lian did most of her reading on her own. She hadn’t requested that Jason read to her in a long time.

Something inside him softened at the request, and he couldn’t help the smile that spread across his features. “Yeah, princess,” he said, borrowing Roy’s nickname for her. “What do you want me to read?”

She held up the book on her nightstand. It was a middle-grade novel about wizards with a dragon on the cover. “I’m reading this one.”

Jason took the book from her and skimmed the synopsis on the back cover. “Looks interesting. Do you like it so far?” She nodded. Jason ushered her to bed, sitting down beside her and cracking the book open to where she’d marked it. “Alright, let’s see what this is all about, then, huh?”

“Is Lian okay?”

This was, naturally, the first question Roy had for Jason after Jason finished reading to Lian and met Roy in the basement to get ready for patrol.

“I think so,” Jason answered. Lian had been practically falling asleep on his arm by the time he’d left. Just like the old days. “I read to her,” Jason added, and if he sounded a little proud of this fact, well, he was. He’d thought his days of reading to Lian were behind him. It was nice to have them back, even if it never happened again and it had just been for one night. It reminded him of all the good times he’d had with Lian when she was younger. Hopefully there were even more good times still ahead of them, now that Jason lived with Lian and Roy.

Jason realized in that moment, for the very first time, that Lian was probably the closest he’d get to having a kid. He certainly wasn’t ever going to have one of his own. Maybe his siblings would, one day, but that day was most likely far, far in the future.

“It’s been a while since she’s asked you to do that,” Roy noted, sounding relieved that his daughter was seemingly doing just fine after Jason’s unexplained absence.

“It has,” Jason agreed. “It was nice. The book she’s reading is pretty good. I kind of hope she lets me read more of it with her; I’m curious how it ends.”

“I’ll try putting in a good word for you,” Roy offered with an ill-timed wink as he stripped out of his civilian clothes, down to his underwear. Jason blinked and averted his gaze, something he’d never felt the need to do before.

In an effort to distract himself, Jason went back to their previous conversation. “I’m sorry again about leaving the way I did. I’m not trying to give Lian any abandonment issues.”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” Roy said, getting dressed side-by-side with Jason. “Really. And I’m sorry if I was a little harsh before. It’s that mama bear instinct in me.”

“Wouldn’t that be a papa bear instinct?” Jason asked.

“Papa bears don’t do shit,” Roy informed him. “Mama bears are where it’s at. Nobody fucks with a mama bear.”

“Alright, then, mama bear.”

Jason put on his Red Hood helmet and started equipping his weapons. Roy was doing the same, donning his mask and slinging his quiver of arrows over his shoulder. He was fully dressed now, which meant Jason could focus again.

“You patrolling alone again tonight?” Roy asked.

“Yeah,” Jason said apologetically. “Just for a little while longer.”

“Hey, take all the time you need.” Roy clapped Jason on the shoulder. His hand left an invisible imprint behind, a slight warmth and a comforting sensation spread through Jason’s bones like melting butter.

That wasn’t a good sign.

Halfway through patrol that night, Jason’s comm beeped with an incoming message. He answered, knowing there was about a ninety-nine percent chance the person on the other end was Roy. He was still connected via satellite to the other Bats in Gotham (and Dick in Blüdhaven), but they rarely called him in, considering the distance.

“Red Hood here,” Jason said, crouching down on the rooftop where he’d been standing, making himself invisible in the shadows.

Sure enough, the voice that came through was tinny and distorted but unmistakably Roy’s. “Just caught a BOLO from the NYPD. You’ll never guess who’s escaped from jail.”

Jason let out a longsuffering sigh. There was only one name that came to his mind, one person who Roy could be referring to. “Sergey Kevorkov?”

“The one and only.”

Jason internally cursed out Bruce and his “no killing” propaganda. See? This was what he got for letting criminals live.

“Any leads on his whereabouts?” Jason asked.

“None from the NYPD.”

“Of fucking course not.” Jason shook his head. “I’ll call it in to Oracle. Maybe she can help.”

“I’ll loop in Canary. You know he’ll probably flee the country, though.”

“He’s probably already gone,” Jason agreed.

Roy’s tone was sardonic when he replied, “You know, this is what happens when you leave for the weekend.”

“Way to kick a man when he’s down.”

The next week’s worth of patrol was all about Sergey. Barbara and Dinah couldn’t dig up any leads – nothing even that indicated Sergey had made it back to Russia – which meant Jason got to break out his interrogation routine and do things the old-fashioned way.

Sergey’s girlfriend was a dead end; she’d ended up in jail too and on trial as an accomplice, and Jason believed her when she said she hadn’t heard from Sergey since her arrest. But Sergey had had plenty of contacts in the region, and these were the first people Jason hit up.

A key contact had apparently recently relocated to Gotham, a coincidence Jason couldn’t ignore. When the next weekend rolled around, he made the drive down to New Jersey, giving both Roy and Lian plenty of advance notice this time. Roy offered to join him, but they couldn’t arrange a babysitter for Lian with such short notice, and Jason ended up going alone. He found the contact with Barbara’s help, and while the man didn’t know where Sergey was, with some gentle persuasion, he was able to give Jason a few names of people who might.

Jason had just wrapped up his interrogation and was getting ready to leave Gotham and head back north when he heard a familiar voice in the night, accompanied by the sound of someone jumping down from a height and landing gracefully behind him.

“Red Hood?”

It was Cass, masked and suited up, holding a grappling gun. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Chasing a lead,” Jason said. “Well, I was. Now I’m chasing another lead back to New York. You know how it is.”

“Mm,” she replied sympathetically. Cass was a woman of few words, but she always managed to get her point across.

“How have things been around here?” Jason asked, wondering if anything in particular – other than idle curiosity and the fact that they’d happened to run into each other – had led Cass to strike up a conversation with him.

“Eh,” she said. “The usual. What’s your lead about?”

“An arms dealer who I just got arrested escaped from jail. I’ve been tracking him down.”

“Need any help?”

“I’ve got Oracle on the case. But if you hear anything about Sergey Kevorkov, let me know.”

Cass nodded. Then she gestured vaguely in Jason’s direction and asked, “What’s wrong with your hand?”

Jason held out his gloved, formerly injured hand and looked up at Cass with awe. He had literally just been standing there. No fucking way she’d discerned from his posture alone that he’d injured his hand multiple months ago.

“How could you tell there’s something wrong with it?” he countered.

“The way you’re standing.”

Freaky. “I injured it in a fight,” he finally answered. “With Sergey, actually. I apprehended him in his girlfriend’s apartment and he attacked me with a vodka bottle. But that was a few months ago.”

“It still hurts?”

“No, it’s healed.”

He couldn’t actually see Cass’ facial expression under her mask, but he could tell she was raising a highly skeptical eyebrow. There really was no lying to her.

“It doesn’t hurt, exactly,” he explained, “But I think I have nerve damage.”

“You need, um…” Cass searched for the right terminology, “Physical therapy. For that.”

“Can’t afford it,” Jason informed her.

“Mm.” She was sympathetic again. “Has it, um… affected your shooting?”

“A little,” he admitted, because again, there was no point lying.

“I know how you feel,” Cass said.

“Really?”

The set of Cass’ mouth looked confused. “Were you still dead then?” she asked.

Now Jason was confused too. “When?”

“When I lost my ability,” Cass explained. “My fighting ability.”

Her preternatural fighting instincts, she meant. Her ability to read people, the way she’d read him and discovered his hand was still bothering him. Jason didn’t remember Cass ever losing that ability. “I must’ve been. How did it happen?”

Cass shrugged. “Long story.” One she apparently didn’t feel like telling.

“How’d you get it back, then?”

“My mom. She taught me. Then we fought to the death.”

Okay, yeah. Jason definitely hadn’t been around for that. He would have remembered Cass fighting her mom to the death. “You killed your mom?” he asked. Talk about trauma. Jason could somewhat relate, having death-related mommy issues of his own.

“She killed me,” Cass corrected him.

So, even more trauma than Jason had anticipated. Got it. Also… “You died?” Dying and coming back to life was feeling like less of an exclusive club Jason was an elite member of and more like a rite of passage he’d undergone.

“Only for a little bit,” Cass said.

“How come no one ever talks about this?”

Cass shrugged again. “You were dead way longer.”

“Yeah but… still.”

“It was kind of my own fault,” Cass explained. “I wouldn’t let anyone help me. I was… too focused on getting my ability back. I would’ve done anything. Even die.”

The whole way back to New York, Jason couldn’t stop thinking about what Cass said. He didn’t know if she had some freaky witch powers of premonition in addition to her ability to read people or if it was sheer happenstance that she’d said exactly what Jason needed to hear. What he hadn’t even known he’d needed to hear.

I wouldn’t let anyone help me.

Jason flexed his formerly injured hand. His practicing hadn’t been paying off, and although it had only been a couple of weeks, he knew, deep down, he needed a more serious intervention. Cass was right. He needed physical therapy. And there was only one way he could afford it.

This was about more than just health insurance, though. At the heart of the matter, Roy was offering to help Jason. And just like Cass, Jason wouldn’t let anyone help him. And where would that leave him? Where would he end up if he didn’t get physical therapy? Would he ever regain the full function of his hand? What about the next time he needed medical treatment he couldn’t afford? Would he, like Cass, sooner die than accept the help that someone was ready and willing to offer him?

Even if it didn’t come to that, where would Jason end up five, ten, fifteen, twenty years from now? What would his life look like if he didn’t start planning for the future, like Roy kept trying to convince him to do?

Jason had been so determined to refuse Roy’s offer of marriage that he had never really, truly considered it. Roy had already given Jason a stable place to live. He’d been the best friend and roommate Jason could have asked for. He’d given Jason a place in Lian’s life, which was a gift that kept on giving. He’d paid Jason’s hospital bill, and now he was offering Jason even more than that. All Jason had to do was accept it.

For the first time in his adult life, Jason could put down roots. He could plan for the future. If he married Roy, he could get into therapy, something just about everyone Jason knew had been telling him he needed for pretty much his entire life. Both lives.

Hell, if Jason was going to commit to stability, he didn’t have to stop at therapy. In between making deliveries and watching Lian, he could get his GED. After that, he could maybe take classes at one of the local community colleges. There were plenty of options in New York. There were even more options online. He could finally get that college degree he’d dreamed about his entire childhood.

The point was, Roy wanted to help him. And, even while a part of him still insisted the idea was crazy, Jason wanted to let him. The only thing stopping him was… himself.

If marriage was Jason’s ticket to success, then hell, he could do a lot worse for himself than Roy. He had never really pictured himself marrying anyone, but if he had, he didn’t think he could have dreamed someone up who was better than Roy. He was the whole package: attractive, funny, reliable, kind, gainfully employed, a good father, not to mention Jason’s closest friend.

Yeah, Jason could do much worse.

And who knew how much longer he had before Roy changed his mind, if he hadn’t already. If he wanted any chance of making good on his new dreams of stability, Jason had to snatch this offer up while it was still on the table.

By the time he got home, Jason had more than made up his mind. It was the early hours of the morning; he hadn’t slept. He’d driven straight through the night. He barged into Roy’s room like a madman, and it was a good thing Roy was still awake, because he probably would’ve taken Jason for an intruder and reacted accordingly if Jason had woken him from a dead sleep like this.

“Is something wrong?” Roy asked, looking appropriately alarmed.

Jason realized belatedly that he was still wearing the Red Hood suit. He took off his helmet and dropped it on the floor, took off his domino mask and stuffed it in his pocket. He took the glove off his previously injured hand and held it up in the low light of Roy’s bedside lamp.

“I have nerve damage,” he said. “In my hand. It’s affecting my aim. I think I need physical therapy.”

Roy blinked. “Am I dreaming, or did you just admit I was right?”

Jason huffed. “Don’t be a dick about it,” he warned, though without any real heat behind the words.

“I think I’ve earned at least one ‘I told you so.’”

“I regret this already.”

“I told you so,” Roy said, getting the words out quickly before Jason could protest. “Okay, that’s it. I promise. You said you need physical therapy? Does that mean what I think it means?”

Jason took a deep breath in. Now or never. “I’d like to get on your health insurance. Which means I want to marry you. If that’s still an option.”

“It is. Of course it is.” Roy looked – and sounded – completely sincere.

Jason nodded. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this. More than that, he couldn’t believe it felt so… easy. Everything was going by so fast; his mind was reeling. “Great,” he said. “I guess we can figure the details out in the morning, then.”

He turned to leave, but Roy stopped him. “Hold on.” Jason turned back around. “If we’re getting married, you need to propose. It’s my one condition.”

Jason raised an eyebrow, amused. “I didn’t realize you were making demands.”

“Humor me,” Roy requested. “I’ll probably only get married once; don’t I at least deserve a proposal?”

Jason considered this. It was a fair enough condition, and easy enough to accomplish. But if he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. “Give me just a minute,” he said, and exited the room, pacing down the hall to his own bedroom and fishing two small items out of the drawer of his nightstand.

He returned, approaching Roy’s bedside. Roy sat up in bed, facing Jason. Jason got down on one knee.

“Roy…” Jason paused. “What’s your middle name?”

“William,” Roy provided.

“Really? Huh.” He started again. “Roy William Harper, will you do me the honor of marrying me so I can get on your health insurance?”

Roy faked wiping a tear off his cheek. “That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me,” he said jokingly. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Jason held up one of the two items he’d brought from his bedroom. It was a friendship bracelet. He took Roy’s hand and slid the bracelet onto his wrist.

Roy held it up to the light. The threads of the bracelet were black and red stripes. “Did Lian make this?” he asked.

“She made this one.” Jason held up the other item he’d brought: another bracelet. This one was yellow and red. He slid it onto his own wrist. “I made that one. I didn’t think to get us rings on such short notice, but I figured…”

Jason trailed off. Roy looked genuinely emotional. “Are you alright?” Jason asked.

Roy met his gaze. There was an intensity there that Jason was beginning to grow accustomed to.

“More than alright.” Roy’s smile lit up the room. Jason felt a twinge of something in his chest. Something pleasant. “I’m so much more than alright.”

Jason hardly got any sleep, but it was apparently still enough for him to have a nightmare. It was the Sergey one again, and this time when he woke, he remembered more of the details.

He was sitting in a church: wooden pews, stained glass windows, vaulted ceilings, big white cross on the wall, a priest. Around him sat Roy’s family and friends, other off-duty superheroes, even other criminals. Everyone sat facing the happy couple: Sergey and Roy. Sergey in a black suit, Roy in a white one.

Jason was sitting toward the back, but even from that distance he could make out the expressions on Roy and Sergey’s faces. They looked like any happy couple on their big day: blissful. Eager. In love.

It was wrong. This whole scene was wrong. Jason sat there in the pew, feeling a growing sense of dread. First it settled in the pit of his stomach, then it spread throughout the rest of him. Something wasn’t right about this situation. Someone needed to do something about it. But everyone else, the priest and all the other guests, were happily going along with the whole charade like nothing was amiss. Like everything was normal.

Fuck it. If nobody else was going to do anything about it, Jason would have to be the one to do it. And not just for Roy’s sake. For both of them.

Roy wasn’t supposed to be up there with Sergey. He was supposed to be up there with Jason.

Jason got to his feet. He shouted loudly into the room, “I object!” His words echoed off the high ceiling.

Everyone turned to look at him, shocked.

“Jason?” Roy said, confused.

Jason marched up to where Roy was standing, feeling the eyes of the entire room on him. He stood there, ignoring Sergey, ignoring everyone other than Roy. For all he cared, the church might as well have been empty save for the two of them.

“You can’t marry Sergey,” Jason said, reaching out, taking Roy’s hands in his.

“Why not?” Roy asked.

“Because,” Jason answered, “I’m in love with you.”

Chapter Text

Jason jolted awake, finding himself tangled in his bedsheets and drenched in sweat like he’d had an actual traumatic nightmare and not another weird marriage dream. Another weird marriage dream, this one with an extremely concerning conclusion.

Jason extricated himself from the tangle of sheets and made his way to the bathroom, the one in the hall that he shared with Lian, who seemed to still be asleep, judging by the darkness and silence coming from her room. It was earlier than he would usually be awake, but not by much. He ran the shower cold enough to wake him up properly and stood under the spray, eyes closed, face tilted up toward the shower head, like he could wash away the memory of last night’s dream.

The growing part of him that was capable and willing to self-reflect didn’t dismiss the dream immediately, as much as the rest of him desperately wanted to. Jason was used to the idea of dreams meaning something. Usually they were recreations of a traumatic memory or time in his life. Sometimes they were fictional horrors that represented a more general fear or trauma he was grappling with. Other times it was a dream about Bruce or one of Jason’s siblings doing some fucked shit because Bruce and Jason’s siblings were often, in the waking world, doing some fucked shit.

And sometimes he stood in front of a church full of friends, family, and superheroes and declared his love for his best friend-slash-roommate. The same friend he’d been experiencing complicated feelings of attraction for. The same friend he’d just agreed to marry.

Jason didn’t honestly think he was in love with Roy. “Love” was a powerful word for an emotion Jason didn’t think he’d ever experienced before, at least not in the romantic sense. He didn’t think he’d even know how to identify the emotion, he was so unfamiliar with it. It seemed like such a vague, powerful, unknowable concept. When people expressed being in love, Jason had often wondered what that even meant, what that even felt like, although he’d never asked. If he had to guess, it probably meant something different to each person, which was some subjective bullshit. Emotions were complicated things.

Still, Jason was undeniably attracted to Roy. He’d entertained the odd fantasy about him, and he was increasingly finding himself distracted when Roy did things that never used to faze him, like changing for patrol, making intense eye contact, or being physically close to Jason.

This wasn’t necessarily a problem for Jason. He’d been attracted to friends before. And really, wasn’t it a good thing that he had agreed to marry someone he found attractive? Assuming the marriage didn’t end in a quick divorce once one or both of them realized they’d made a terrible mistake, it was nice that Jason would be legally bound to someone easy on the eyes instead of some hideous gargoyle of a human being.

Upon deciding that, while his dream may have meant something, it didn’t have to mean anything life-changing or catastrophic, Jason exited the shower, satisfied with this conclusion. He dried himself off, put on his stolen housecoat, and returned to his bedroom to get ready for the day.

Downstairs, Roy was making coffee and breakfast. It was Sunday. Roy was off work, and with Jason’s interrogation in Gotham complete, the two of them and Lian could spend the day together like they were used to on the weekends.

As he took a seat at the table, Jason paid careful attention to the way he felt watching Roy make his way around the kitchen. He didn’t feel butterflies in his stomach or anything cliché like that. He could both objectively and subjectively assess that Roy was attractive, with the early morning sun striking his hair and his jeans sitting low on his hips without a belt. And he could also admit to himself that he would probably enjoy it if Roy strode across the kitchen and kissed him right then and there. Neither of those things, either separately or together, meant Jason was necessarily “in love” with Roy. Right?

Jason was so preoccupied with examining his own emotions that he almost didn’t notice Roy was still wearing the friendship bracelet Jason had proposed to him with. Jason looked down at his own bare wrists, realizing he’d left his in the bathroom.

“Shit. Be right back,” he said, jogging upstairs and grabbing the bracelet from the sink. He returned wearing it, and if Roy noticed the slight difference in Jason’s appearance, he didn’t say anything. He placed a full cup of coffee in front of Jason, who thanked him and took a scalding hot sip, unable to wait for the liquid to cool before injecting caffeine straight into his veins. After all, he hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.

“I was thinking,” Roy said, walking over to the eggs he’d left sizzling on the stove, “We should probably break the news to Lian today.”

Jason didn’t need to ask what Roy was referring to. “You know as soon as we tell her, we have to tell everyone else,” he pointed out. “Otherwise she’ll do it for us.”

“Not necessarily. If we tell her she has to keep it a secret, she will. We just have to make sure we make it clear.”

Jason considered this. “It would be nice to have a few days to prepare for the onslaught,” he remarked drily.

Roy nodded in agreement. “But you’re on board with telling her today?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Jason said. He knew Roy didn’t like keeping things from Lian. Probably especially something as important as Roy getting married. He would never ask Roy to leave Lian out of such a major life change. “We can tell her as soon as she gets down here if you want.”

“Tell me what?”

Lian appeared at the bottom of the stairs, still wearing her pajamas and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. Roy narrowed his eyes at her in a distinctly parental fashion. “Lian, have you brushed your teeth yet?” She shook her head. “Go brush them.”

“Do you guys have a secret?” she asked, ignoring Roy’s command.

“Yes,” Jason cut in. “But only people who brush their teeth get to hear it.”

That did the trick. Lian turned tail and ran back up the stairs. Almost exactly two minutes later – she had an electric toothbrush that buzzed for the length of time she was supposed to brush, an invention that might’ve saved Jason some of the thousands of dollars he’d spent at the dentist if he’d taken advantage of it himself – Lian emerged downstairs again. She was still in her pajamas, her hair still messy from sleep, but seeing as it was the weekend, there was no rush for her to get dressed and ready. Roy must have agreed, because he let it slide.

“All right, princess, sit down at the breakfast table,” he instructed. “How do you want your eggs?”

“Scrambled!” Lian proclaimed. “With cheese!”

“You got it.”

She leaned forward with her elbows on the table. “What’s your secret? You have to tell me now. I brushed my teeth.”

Roy exchanged a glance with Jason. Jason nodded, giving him the signal to begin. Roy didn’t waste any time. “Jay and I have news,” he said. “Good news.”

“What is it?”

“You remember we’ve talked about how some people get married when they’re grown up and some people don’t?”

“Yes,” Lian said, nodding. “Like Dinah and Ollie got married.”

“Exactly,” Roy agreed. “But Jay’s dad, Bruce, never got married. And both ways are good. You can get married one day if you find the right person, like Dinah and Ollie, but you don’t have to, like Bruce. You can have a girlfriend or boyfriend or a special nonbinary friend, or you can even have more than one as long as everyone is okay with it. There are lots of options.”

“I think I want to get married someday,” Lian said.

“It’s entirely up to you,” Roy encouraged. “I never got married because there wasn’t anyone in my life I could commit to sharing my life with. Marriage is a big deal. It doesn’t always last forever, but it’s still very serious. Do any of your friends have parents who are divorced?”

Lian nodded again.

“It’s not easy to get divorced. And that’s because marriage is so serious.”

“Jay isn’t married,” Lian pointed out, turning to Jason. “Right, Jay?”

“Right,” Jason confirmed. “Same as your dad, I didn’t meet the right person.”

“That’s exactly what Jason and I wanted to talk to you about,” Roy added. “I don’t know if we’ve talked about this before, but there are actually lots of different reasons people get married. It might be because they’re in love, but not always. And recently, Jay and I started thinking we might like to get married, even though we’re not in love. We’re best friends, and we’re not in love with anyone else, and if we were married, we could share things like married people do, and that would really help us both.”

“Like how you share the car?” Lian asked. Roy and Jason typically swapped vehicles during the week, Roy taking Jason’s motorcycle to work and Jason using Roy’s car to drive Lian around and make deliveries. Jason had no desire to get a car of his own, so this arrangement worked just fine for him.

“That’s exactly right. We could share more things like that,” Roy said.

Not for the first time, Jason marveled at how good Roy was at this parenting thing. What he did experience for the first time, though, was a twinge of attraction to Roy specifically because of what a good dad he was to Lian. It reminded Jason of the attraction he’d felt to Roy in his everyday work clothes; part of him was repulsed that his sensibilities had drifted so far in the “white picket fence” direction, while another part of him knew better by now than to try to fight it. In his advancing age, Jason was apparently attracted to single dads who worked as youth counselors. It was a sad statement, but a true one, and something Jason didn’t think he could fight or change.

Oblivious to Jason’s dilemma, Roy continued. “But I would never marry anyone if you weren’t okay with it,” he was saying, “Just like I would never let anyone else live with us if you weren’t okay with it. So I want you to take some time to think about—”

Lian interrupted him eagerly. “I’m okay with it!”

Roy held up a hand. “Well, hold on. Like I said, marriage is very serious. You should think about it really hard before you answer.”

Lian glanced between Roy and Jason, seeming perplexed. “But I love Jay,” she said. “I want you to marry him. Then he can stay with us forever.”

Jason felt his cold, undead heart grow three sizes. He couldn’t help the sappy smile that spread across his face. “Aw, you’ll get sick of me eventually,” he said, tousling Lian’s hair.

She scrunched up her nose and batted away Jason’s hand. “Never!” she exclaimed.

Across the kitchen, Roy too was smiling, doling out eggs onto three plates. “I’m still gonna let you take the week to think about it, okay? So don’t tell anyone until Saturday. You promise?”

“I promise,” said Lian.

Roy crossed the kitchen, setting a plate of cheesy scrambled eggs and bacon down in front of Lian and holding up a hand, pinky extended. “Pinky promise?” Lian wrapped her little finger around Roy’s and nodded gravely. “Pinky promise Jay too.” Lian repeated the ritual with Jason, who was honored to take part.

Lian dug into her breakfast, but not two bites in, she had more to say. This was nothing out of the ordinary. Lian was a little chatterbox. Through a mouthful of eggs, she asked, “Does this mean Jay will be my dad too?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, princess,” Roy reminded her. “Technically he’ll be your stepdad. Do any of your friends at school have a stepdad or stepmom?”

“Yes,” said Lian.

“So you know what that means, right? It means I’m still your dad, but Jay is gonna be married to me, so he’s your stepdad.”

“I know that,” Lian told him, unfazed.

“Is that okay?” Roy asked.

“Mhm,” Lian said. “I think he’ll be a good stepdad. Can I still call him Jay?”

Roy gestured to Jason with a spatula. “You should ask him.”

Lian turned to Jason. “Can I still call you Jay? Because Dad is my dad, so it would be confusing if you were both Dad.”

“You can still call me Jay,” Jason said, perfectly content with his current honorific. He didn’t think he was mentally or emotionally prepared for anyone to call him “Dad” anyway. Not even Lian. He was still too young and immature to be a dad. A stepdad, though… maybe he could do that.

“Okay, good,” said Lian. “You’re Jay, and Dad is Dad.”

“And you’re Lian,” Jason added playfully.

Lian put her hands on her hips. “Of course I’m Lian!” She and Jason both laughed.

Lian kept her pinky promises, and by the end of the week, Roy and Jason’s engagement was still a secret from everyone else in their lives. They spent the week making preparations, getting everything together that they would need to legally combine their lives.

It was, in a word, surreal. Jason and Roy were really doing this thing. They were binding themselves together in one of the most permanent possible ways. Sure, divorce was always possible, but like Roy had said to Lian, marriage still wasn’t a commitment to enter into lightly. Jason knew Roy was as serious about this as he’d ever been about anything. Strangely enough, so was Jason.

As they were doing their research, making sure they had all their ducks in a row, Roy asked Jason, “Are you going to keep your current name? Or were you planning on changing it?”

Jason’s post-resurrection legal identity had been set up by none other than Barbara Gordon herself, which meant it was even more airtight than an actual legal identity. His first name was the same, in order to reduce confusion, and his last name was a nondescript English surname that no one would look twice at. For that reason, he didn’t have a particular attachment to it. Still, he was surprised Roy was offering.

“You’d seriously be okay with me taking your name?” he asked. Jason had, legally, let go of the last name Todd with ease; he’d been glad to be rid of any attachment he had left to his piece of shit sperm donor. But Roy’s relationship to his biological father was different. He didn’t even have any memories of the man. The last name Harper was the only thing he had left of him. Jason genuinely hadn’t expected Roy’s cavalier attitude that he’d been taking to this whole marriage thing to extend to something that… intimate.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised, though. Throughout this entire process, Roy had never shied away from intimacy. After all, it had been his idea for them to get married in the first place.

“Of course I’m okay with it,” Roy said without hesitation. “I think Jason Harper is a great name.” A smile spread across Roy’s features. “Lian will be thrilled to share a name with you.”

“Lian is thrilled by this whole process,” Jason replied.

“She loves you. I don’t think there’s anyone else in the world she’d rather have as a stepparent.”

Jason was struck by this. He knew Lian loved him, but to that extent? “Seriously?”

Roy’s smile widened into a grin. “Seriously.”

Jason was sitting on the living room sofa, holding his phone in front of his face, on a video call with his siblings. Rather than tell them one by one, he figured he’d rip the bandaid off and break the news to all of them at once. Not only was it easier this way, it also meant Dick would find out at the same time as everyone else instead of once again being the first in the know, which Jason knew would drive him crazy.

Dick still managed to be the first to react to the news, though. Of the five shocked faces staring back at Jason – well, four shocked and one (Damian) visibly bored – Dick was the first to say anything.

“You what?”

“I’m getting married,” Jason repeated.

“To Roy?” Dick clarified, even though Jason had already said this.

“Yes, to Roy.”

There was a short pause. Then Tim recovered and said, “I fucking knew it.”

This seemed to break the dam, and suddenly everyone was speaking at once.

“Congrats!” Cass said happily.

“When is the wedding?” Duke asked. “Are we all invited?”

“Do I have to go?” Damian whined.

Dick spoke up over the rest of them. “Hold on, you both told me your relationship was strictly platonic. Now you’re getting married?”

“We’re only getting married so I can get on Roy’s health insurance,” Jason tried to explain. He was going to go into more detail when Tim interrupted him.

“I don’t care why you’re getting married. I was still right.”

“You called it, man,” Duke congratulated him.

Jason had to burst this particular bubble before it got too big. He couldn’t let Tim get it in his head that he’d been right about something, especially something to do with Jason’s personal life. “No he didn’t. Roy and I aren’t together. We’re getting married as friends.”

This was followed by a much longer silence. Shock and excitement (and boredom from Damian) was replaced by confusion and bewilderment (and more boredom from Damian).

“I’m confused,” Cass admitted.

“I don’t actually care whether you’re together or not,” Damian chimed in. “Can I go?”

“This won’t take long,” Jason told him. “If everyone would just listen to me—”

“Is this one of those ‘if we’re both still single at thirty, let’s just marry each other’ kind of deals?” Duke asked.

Finally someone who understood. “Yes,” Jason said. “Like that, but for health insurance.”

Duke nodded. “That makes sense.”

“It does?” Cass asked, still confused.

“You could have led with that,” Dick complained.

“This was a complete waste of my time,” Damian added.

Tim would not relent. “Still sounds like a pretty gay thing to do,” he muttered.

“Will there still be a wedding?” Cass asked, attempting to wrap her head around the situation.

“No,” Jason told everyone. “We’re eloping.”

“Are you taking Roy’s last name?” Duke asked.

“I am, actually.”

“Have you told Bruce about this?” asked Dick.

“Not yet, no.”

“What about Ollie?”

“Roy is telling Ollie and Dinah.”

Dick snorted. “Good luck.”

“Doesn’t Oliver Queen hate Jason?” Damian asked, showing interest for the first time during the call.

“Yeah he does,” Dick confirmed.

Damian smirked. “Good luck,” he echoed.

Jason rolled his eyes. “You guys are assholes. See, this is why you aren’t invited to the wedding.”

The next phone call Jason had to make was one he had to brace himself for. He never called Bruce; their communication was almost exclusively via text. In part this was because Jason was a self-respecting Millennial who avoided phone calls at all cost, and in part because Bruce was the most awkward man alive, especially over the phone.

Unfortunately, Jason knew he likely had a matter of minutes, at best, before Bruce heard the news from someone else. Gossip traveled fast when Dick Grayson was involved. So Jason reluctantly navigated to Bruce’s contact in his phone and pressed the call button.

It rang twice before Jason heard Bruce pick up. Jason started speaking immediately, not giving Bruce a chance to make things awkward right off the bat.

“Hey,” he said. “Not sure if anyone’s told you. I’m getting married.”

Great. What an entirely non-awkward way to start a phone call. Nailed it.

There was a noticeable pause on the other end before Bruce responded in a level tone, “I didn’t realize you were in a relationship.”

“I’m not. I’m marrying Roy for his health insurance, but we’re just friends. And roommates.”

“Oh.” Another pause. “Well, congratulations. Will there be a wedding?”

God, this was like pulling teeth. Jason was having a miserable time already. He needed to get this over with faster. “We’ll just go to the courthouse and get it done. No big deal. I just wanted to tell you before you heard it from someone else.”

“Meaning Dick?” Bruce asked. Jason could hear his smirk.

“Exactly.” Pause. “That’s… really all I had to tell you, I guess.” And then an even longer pause, during which Bruce continued to give Jason absolutely nothing to work with. Was this Jason’s cue to end the call? He was going to act as though it was. He started saying, “I guess I better—”

And at the same time, Bruce started saying, “If you ever need—”

They both cut themselves off. This was fucking excruciating. Even worse than Jason had anticipated. He buried his face in his hand, shaking his head, and said, “You go first.”

“I was just going to say, if you ever need anything, I’m here. Whatever I can do, just say the word. I’m happy to do it.”

Jason appreciated the sentiment, really, he did. “Thanks,” he responded.

“Were you saying you needed to go?” Bruce asked.

Finally, an out. “Yeah. I should go. I’ll see you.”

Jason hung up the phone faster than if it was on fire and shoved it in his pocket. Roy looked up from where he was sitting across the living room, in his recliner. He’d just gotten off an awkward phone call of his own with his family. Jason had only heard one side of it, but he could tell it hadn’t gone without incident.

“What did Bruce say?” Roy asked.

“Oh, you know,” Jason answered vaguely. “He’s so invested in my relationships. What about Ollie?”

“He thinks I’m crazy.”

“Because you’re getting married to someone you’re not in love with or because it’s me?”

“Mostly because it’s you.”

Jason snorted. He’d seen that one coming a mile away. “Well, he and I have one thing in common, then. I think you’re crazy too. And Dinah?”

“She has her reservations, but ultimately it’s my decision,” Roy explained. “I don’t need anyone else’s approval. She likes you; don’t get me wrong. She’s just not entirely sold on the idea of us getting married like this.”

“Let me guess, she’s the one concerned you’re getting married to someone you’re not in love with,” Jason surmised.

“Something like that, yeah.”

“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Jason said.

“I haven’t,” Roy assured him with a confident smile. “I’m still committed to doing this as long as you are.”

“I’m full speed ahead, baby. Let’s do this thing.”

The night before Roy and Jason planned to head down to the courthouse for the civil ceremony, Lian asked Jason to read to her again. They were both feeling restless, Lian from excitement about the wedding and Jason from a mixture of excitement and nerves, so even though they began with the intention of reading just a chapter or two, Jason ended up reading the last quarter of book, all the way to the end, when the two young wizards defeated the great evil and escaped the dark alternate universe in which they’d found themselves.

“The end,” Jason said with what he hoped was an appropriate amount of gravitas.

Lian took the book from him, got out of bed, and put it back on her bookshelf, which was overflowing with short chapter books for young readers. “Do you want to start reading the next book?” Lian asked.

Jason checked the time. It was late. “You should probably get to sleep,” he said. “It’s a big day tomorrow.”

“You and Dad are getting married,” Lian said, hopping back in bed and snuggling under the covers.

“We are, yeah.”

“I wanna marry my best friend when I’m old enough,” she added, in the decisive way that kids always talked about their future, like nothing bad would ever happen to them and all their childhood dreams would come true. Jason really hoped that would be the case for Lian, though he knew it was an unrealistic expectation. Regardless, he would do everything in his power to make it so.

“The person you marry should be your best friend,” he replied. “You should like them enough to spend the rest of your life with them. Although, hopefully you’ll also be in love with them. If you do get married. Like your dad said, you don’t ever have to get married if you don’t want to.” Jason cut himself off before he started babbling. Knowing what to say to a kid about a complicated subject, and how to say it in an age-appropriate way, was harder than it looked. Roy made it look easy.

Then Lian had to go and make things ten times more difficult. “Have you ever fallen in love?” she asked.

Jason swallowed. He thought about Roy. “Nope,” he said, hoping he sounded more confident than he felt.

He had no reason to feel this level of uncertainty. He wasn’t in love with Roy. Really, he wasn’t. And yet… every time he told himself this, it felt less and less true.

“Not even one time?” Lian asked.

“Never.” Jason knew one thing: He’d never fallen in love before Roy. So that part was at least true. The rest… it was complicated.

“Why not?”

“You can’t fall in love on purpose. It just happens.” Clearly.

“You can only fall in love on accident?”

“Pretty much.”

“You can make friends on purpose.”

“That’s true.”

“Can you fall in love with your friends?”

“Sometimes.”

“Can I fall in love with my friends?”

Jason shrugged. This cycle of never-ending questions was par for the course for Lian. She was a curious young girl, and Jason was happy to help her learn more about this crazy big world she’d found herself in. But he didn’t have all the answers. “You could. We won’t know until it happens.”

“Could it happen tomorrow?”

“You’ll probably be a little older. But maybe.”

Lian thought about this. “Like as old as you?” she asked.

Jason cracked a smile. “Maybe not quite that old.”

Lian nodded, apparently satisfied with Jason’s answers. He left her with a “goodnight” and a kiss on the forehead, turned off her light, and closed the door.

As he descended the stairs to meet Roy in the basement, he thought about Lian’s line of questioning. He wasn’t in love. He felt… about sixty percent sure about that. But maybe – just maybe – he was getting there.

He didn’t know what that meant for him and his impending marriage. Most people would be thrilled to be getting married to someone they were in love with, but the problem was, Jason didn’t have the foggiest clue whether Roy felt even a fraction of what Jason felt for him.

It wasn’t too late to back out of the marriage, but if he did, he knew he’d have some serious explaining to do, and he didn’t particularly want to do that. Besides, there was no telling whether these feelings he was developing were serious or casual, permanent or fleeting. They were still new, and he didn’t know what to do with them yet. All he knew was that he had an appointment tomorrow to get married to his best friend in the world. There were a lot worse situations he could be in. Hell, there were a lot worse situations he had been in.

And he did need health insurance…

By the time he’d reached the basement, Jason had made up his mind (again). He wasn’t backing out. He was marrying Roy.

Roy was already downstairs, suited up and waiting for him. “Partner up tonight?” he asked Jason.

“Tonight and every night for the rest of our lives,” Jason said with an exaggerated wink. “Or as long as you’ll have me.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that,” Roy replied. And deep down, Jason hoped he was telling the truth.

The civil ceremony was short and to the point, not particularly romantic, but that wasn’t what Roy and Jason needed. They’d already paid the thirty-five dollars for their marriage license, so all it took was showing up to the City Clerk’s office, going through the motions, saying the standard vows, and they were legally married. Bound together in the eyes of the law. Till death – or divorce – do they part.

“You may now kiss the groom,” Roy said as they were leaving, carrying Lian in his arms.

Jason rolled his eyes and ignored the swooping sensation in his stomach at the thought of kissing Roy. “Hilarious.”

“Does this mean you’re married now?” Lian asked, giddy.

“It does,” Roy said.

“For real?”

“For real.”

“And Jay is my stepdad?”

“He is.”

“Is that still okay?” Jason asked her.

She threw her arms up in the air in excitement. “Yes!”

The three of them hugged, Roy’s arms around Jason and Lian, Jason’s arms around Lian and Roy. Roy kissed Lian on the cheek, then turned and lightly pecked Jason on the lips. The kiss lasted for barely a fraction of a second, but Roy’s lips were warm and soft and triggered something like an explosion of fireworks inside Jason, short-circuiting his brain.

“There,” Roy said. “Now it’s official.”

Roy led the way out to the parking lot, Jason trailing behind. He reached up and touched his fingertips to his lips.

Fuck. He was definitely in love.

Chapter Text

Step six of Roy’s ten-step plan was complete. He and Jason were married.

Now came the really hard part.

Roy had pulled out almost all the stops trying to convince Jason to platonically get married to him. He’d played the health insurance card, he’d convinced Jason to move in with him, he’d “hired” Jason to start watching Lian, he’d pestered Jason to start thinking about the future, he’d even gotten Jason to share his bed. Finally some combination of all of this had worked, but now Roy was left with just a few cards to play to accomplish his ultimate goal: get Jason to fall in love with him.

Roy was aware that most other people would look at this plan and find it unnecessarily convoluted. Most people would look at this and think it was backward to get married to someone before seducing them, instead of the other way around. Those people, however, didn’t know Jason the way Roy did.

Jason was as allergic to feelings as any Bat from Gotham. If Roy was going to successfully jumpstart a relationship between the two of them – without the risk of blowing up the relationship they already had – he knew he would need to employ covert tactics. He had to get Jason to commit without feeling like he was committing, because Jason was terrified of commitment and letting people in. Hence the (allegedly) completely platonic marriage the pair of them had just entered into.

This particular strategy of Roy’s had been in the works for longer than he cared to admit. Step one of the plan had been convincing Jason to move to New York; Roy needed him in close proximity in order for his machinations to have the strongest possible effect. Steps two through six had all been in service of getting Roy and Jason to the courthouse and legally binding them together. The final four steps would get the pair of them across the finish line, which meant Jason had to not only fall in love with Roy but admit his feelings.

These last steps were going to take some serious maneuvering, but Roy had never been one to shy away from a challenge, and he wasn’t going to start now. He saw what he wanted – Jason – and he knew how to get it. The rest was simply a matter of time, and now that they were married, Roy had nothing but time.

No one else knew about Roy’s plan, not officially. Jason, of course, couldn’t know about it until it was over, or the plan wouldn’t work. Lian was too young to understand, though she’d still played her part with all the enthusiasm Roy knew to expect of her. Lian wanted Jason as a stepdad just as much, if not more than Roy wanted him as a husband, and Lian was even better than her father at getting what she wanted.

Ollie wasn’t the least bit invested in Roy’s relationship with Jason – quite the opposite – so he’d been left out of the loop. And as much as Roy loved his adopted siblings, he wasn’t going to let them in on his plans for Jason either. He trusted Connor and Mia with his life out in the field, but when it came to relationships, Connor was inexperienced and Mia was overly enthusiastic. Neither one of them would have the finesse Roy needed for such a delicate operation.

Last but not least, none of Roy’s friends could know about the plan, because if any of them found out, the news would somehow make its way to Dick, who, like Mia, would approach the matter with far too much enthusiasm and risk fucking it up.

The only person who suspected anything was Dinah. She knew Roy too well, and she was easily as crafty as he was. She must have recognized what he was doing at some point in between when Jason had moved in with Roy and when the two of them had gotten married.

She’d brought it up for the first time when Roy had called to tell her about his engagement. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” she’d asked him.

At first, he’d assumed she was talking about the marriage. “Jason is my best friend in the world,” Roy had told her. “We already live together. He helps take care of Lian. She loves him like family, and so do I.”

“Is that how you feel about him?” she’d responded skeptically. “Because I was under the impression you were in love with him, and that’s why you convinced him to move to New York, and then to move in with you.”

There was a lengthy pause during which Roy knew better than to try to deny it. With anyone else he would have, but with Dinah there was just no point. Besides, his silence was all the answer she needed.

She continued, “In fact, if I had to guess, this whole marriage idea of yours is probably part of some elaborate plan to get Jason to fall in love with you.”

“So far it’s working,” Roy said, a little defensively. He’d seen the changes in how Jason acted around him. He paid attention to the lustful stares, the longing looks, the way Jason no longer seemed to know how to handle himself around Roy in certain situations. And he knew Jason hadn’t gotten a decent night’s sleep since the two of them had stopped sleeping in the same bed. That, more than anything, was all the answer he needed.

Jason was, at the very least, attracted to Roy, and unless his powers of self-deception were even stronger than Roy had estimated, by now he was likely aware of it. Roy wasn’t sure Jason was fully in love with him just yet, but the process was in motion. Roy just had to continue nudging it – and him – along.

“Are you sure it wouldn’t be easier to just tell him how you feel?” Dinah asked.

“Don’t you think that’s the first thing I considered?”

Dinah chuckled. “No. As a matter of fact, I think that’s probably the last thing you would do.”

See? She knew him too well.

Dinah was right. If Roy had just wanted to fuck Jason, he would have come right out and said it, and they would probably already be friends with benefits by now. But that wasn’t what Roy wanted. At least, it wasn’t the only thing he wanted. He wanted all of Jason, mind, body, and soul. He wanted something lasting and real. And admitting that openly to the object of his desire was a kind of vulnerability Roy couldn’t tolerate. Even after years of therapy to learn how to trust people again after all that he’d been through, he couldn’t risk opening himself up like that only to get rejected.

After Donna, after Jade, Roy had promised himself that he would never be vulnerable to that kind of heartbreak again. And then Jason had snuck his way into Roy’s life, and into his heart, and to quote one of Jason’s beloved literary greats, Roy was in the middle of it before he knew that it had begun. And now he couldn’t risk this ending any other way than with him and Jason together, because he was pretty sure if he got hurt one more time the way he’d been hurt before, he was never going to love again. It was Jason or no one.

That’s why the stakes were so high. That’s why Roy couldn’t just “tell Jason how he felt.” But he couldn’t explain that to Dinah. He couldn’t explain it to anyone. It felt impossible to put into words. He just knew this plan was his best chance of getting what he wanted. What he wanted more than anything in the world.

“Do you think it’s a bad idea?” Roy asked, as if there was anything Dinah or anyone else could say that would change his mind this far into the thick of it.

“I think you’re going to go through with this no matter what anyone says,” Dinah astutely observed. “And no matter what happens, I’ll be here for you. But you might have to listen to me say I told you so.”

One of them was certainly going to be saying “I told you so,” but Roy didn’t think it was going to be Dinah. He hadn’t lost confidence in his plan just yet. In fact, everything was going smoothly so far.

“I’ll agree to those terms,” he said.

“In that case, all that’s left to say is congratulations. I hope this plan of yours works.”

“I hope it does too.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. Roy didn’t need to ask Dinah not to reveal his plan to anyone. He knew she could keep a secret.

It was nearing the end of the summer. Lian had just a few weeks left before she went back to school, starting the fourth grade. She was growing up so fast. Next year she’d be in the fifth grade, and then she’d be in – Roy shuddered to think of it – middle school.

Roy knew he needed to make the most of these years, before Lian’s inevitable transformation into an angsty teen. And it was with this in mind that he had planned a beach vacation for himself, Lian, and Connor and Mia – who were coming to the East Coast for a visit – during Lian’s last week of summer break.

“The only problem is,” he explained to Jason when he pitched the vacation to him the day after they got married, “I booked the vacation months ago, and the place I rented only has three bedrooms. I didn’t think I would be married by now.”

This was not technically a lie. It was true that Roy hadn’t expected to be married by now; he’d expected to need at least until the end of the year to convince Jason, barring a medical emergency that forced Roy’s hand. The two of them were way ahead of schedule.

However, Roy wasn’t being entirely honest with the rest of his statement. Namely, it wasn’t a “problem” that the beach house he’d rented only had three bedrooms. That had been by design. He’d always intended to invite Jason on this trip.

“Mia was going to share with Lian,” Roy went on, “And Connor and I would each have our own room.”

“If there isn’t space for me, I’m okay staying home,” Jason offered.

That wasn’t what Roy wanted. “No, you’re part of the family now. I can’t just leave you home alone while the rest of us go on a family vacation. Now, I could share with Connor and we could give you your own room—”

Jason shook his head. “That’s not necessary. You and I can share.”

Roy feigned surprise. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Jason shrugged. “I mean, we did it before. What’s one more week?”

“Sure,” Roy agreed, “But this time people will know about it.”

“We’re married,” Jason pointed out. “If anyone is scandalized that we’re sharing a bed, that’s their problem. Besides, everyone thinks we’re gay for each other anyway. We’re never beating those allegations now.”

Roy laughed. “That’s true.” He was pleasantly surprised that Jason seemed to be taking this in stride. Then again, Jason had never put too much stock in the opinions of others. And Roy knew Jason had enjoyed sharing a bed with him the first time, though he didn’t expect Jason to admit it. Roy would have to make this time just as enjoyable, and though he’d be at a disadvantage in a new environment without his supremely comfortable bed, he was confident he could accomplish his goal.

Come the next weekend, Jason, Roy, and Lian packed their bags and piled into Roy’s sedan, planning to meet Connor and Mia at the beach house. They got there first, Roy and Jason claiming the master bedroom and Lian claiming one of the twin beds in the next room over.

Within the hour, Connor and Mia arrived, bursting through the front door with their arms laden with duffel bags and suitcases (few superheroes traveled light; they tended to be a “just in case” type of people).

“Where’s my favorite niece?” Mia shouted as she threw her bags onto the floor and held out her arms.

Lian came running, throwing herself onto Mia, who picked her up easily and twirled her around in the air with her impressive upper body strength.

“There she is!” Mia exclaimed. She set Lian down. “How are you? Have you gotten taller?”

“I have!” Lian confirmed. This was true; Lian was shooting up like a weed. She’d grown a whole inch over the summer.

“That’s crazy! Connor, isn’t that crazy?” Mia elbowed Connor, bringing him into her and Lian’s interaction.

Connor set his bags down next to Mia’s and wrapped Lian up in a hug of his own. “Unprecedented,” he said, tousling Lian’s hair affectionately as he set her down.

Mia turned to Roy. “Hey there, newly married big brother.” She slugged him in the arm. He rolled his eyes and drew her in for a hug. “Congratulations, you crazy son of a… beach ball,” she said as she pulled away.

“Nice save,” Roy replied with a wink. He appreciated everyone’s efforts not to curse around Lian. It had been an adjustment for him too; before he’d had a daughter, he’d had the mouth of a sailor. He still did when Lian wasn’t around.

“And Jason!” Mia turned again, addressing Jason, who was standing a few paces behind Roy. Mia pushed past Roy to give Jason a hug, which Jason gamely returned. The Waynes, Roy happened to know, weren’t big huggers, but the Queens decidedly were.

“Welcome to the family!” Mia said as she released Jason.

Connor followed Mia’s lead, hugging Roy and Jason in turn. “Congratulations,” he said to both of them.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, really,” Jason interjected. “It was just for health insurance.”

Connor smirked. “I know,” he said. “Congratulations on the health insurance.”

Jason laughed, caught off guard by Connor’s joke. Connor had always had an unexpected sense of humor.

“Who’s hungry?” Roy asked. “We ordered dinner while we were waiting for you.”

“I am starving,” Mia said, and she led the way to the rental house’s kitchen, where Roy and Jason had laid out pizza, wings, onion rings, and fries; more than enough food for the whole gang.

As they sat down with paper plates piled full of greasy, delicious food, Mia turned to Jason and Roy and prompted, “So?”

Roy wasn’t sure what she was getting at. “So, what?” he asked.

“I wanna hear the whole story. Tell us from the beginning.”

“I thought I already told you,” Roy said. In fact, he knew he’d told Mia and Connor an abridged version of his and Jason’s story over the phone.

“I want to hear Jason’s side of the story,” Mia clarified.

“It’s the same story,” Roy said, but no one was listening to him at this point.

“I’m actually also interested in hearing Jason’s side,” Connor chimed in.

Roy turned to Jason, exchanging a look that asked if he was prepared for the interrogation he was about to receive. Jason’s answering gaze seemed to communicate, “It’s not as though I have a choice,” which was accurate.

Out loud, Jason said, “I mean, how far back should I go?”

“How about when you first moved to New York?” Connor suggested.

“Yeah, I don’t think Roy told us why you decided to move,” Mia added.

“Oh, easy,” Jason replied. “My dad lost his fortune.”

Connor chuckled knowingly. “That’ll happen.”

“Yeah,” Jason continued, “I didn’t exactly want to stick around for the inevitable drama after that. Besides, ever since Roy moved here, he’d been trying to convert me into a New Yorker.” Jason glanced over at Roy, wearing an expression Roy couldn’t quite identify. “He’s somewhat succeeded.”

“Do you like it there?” Connor asked.

“Eh,” Jason said. “I mean, it’s cleaner than Gotham. Less crime. Less of a chance that I’ll run into my family. Those are all points in its favor.” Jason reached an arm around Lian’s shoulders, who was sitting next to him eating a slice of cheese pizza. He added, “And Lian lives in New York, which is obviously the best part.”

Jason leaned down and kissed Lian on the forehead. Lian grinned up at him happily. Roy didn’t bother trying to repress his smile watching their interaction. Of all the things Roy loved about Jason, Jason’s love of Lian was near the top of the list. The two of them had a better, closer relationship than any other adult in Lian’s life, excluding Roy. Roy considered himself lucky, not just for Jason, but for the many other adults who cared so deeply about Lian. It made life as a single parent much, much easier.

“Were you excited when Jason moved to New York, Lian?” Connor asked.

“I was more excited when he moved in with us,” Lian said.

“Tell us how that happened,” Mia said to Jason.

Jason shrugged. “I needed to save money, Roy needed free childcare. He had a spare bedroom and my old apartment was terrible. It worked out.”

“And then how did you go from that to getting married?”

“I needed health insurance.”

Mia was visibly disappointed by the lack of drama in Jason’s story. “That’s it?”

“Basically,” Jason admitted. He smirked. “Roy kept pestering me until I agreed. I think he’s, like, in love with me or something.”

“Guilty,” Roy deadpanned.

Lian glanced between the two of them, confused. “You said you weren’t in love,” she recalled.

“We’re just kidding, princess,” Jason told her.

“Oh.” Now Lian was disappointed.

“I gotta say,” Mia cut in, “The chemistry is there. I’d believe it.” She gave Roy a teasing wink.

“I would too,” Connor added.

Roy turned to Jason, putting an arm around Jason’s waist, pulling Jason close. “We are kind of perfect for each other,” he said. “If we were in love, I think we’d be the ultimate power couple.”

“What’s your ship name?” Mia asked.

“Joy?” Connor suggested.

Mia grinned. “Aw, that’s cute! Jason and Roy, Joy. I ship it.” She turned to Lian. “Do you ship it, Lian?”

Lian nodded.

“She doesn’t know what that means,” Jason protested.

“Yes I do!” insisted Lian. “It means I want you to be together.”

Roy nudged Jason. “Apparently she knows what it means.”

Jason turned to Roy. They were close together, their sides still pressed against each other, their thighs touching. Jason hadn’t moved to pull away. “You did raise a smart kid,” Jason said in a low voice, more for Roy to hear than anyone else.

Mia turned to Connor. “Aren’t they cute?” she teased.

“Adorable,” Connor agreed.

That night, after Roy put Lian to bed, he, Jason, Mia, and Connor stayed up for several hours longer catching up, Roy and Jason enduring far more teasing. It was well past midnight by the time they all decided to turn in, which was still early for the four of them, considering their usual nightly habits. Roy suspected it would take a while for any of them to actually fall asleep.

Nevertheless, Roy and Jason retired to the master bedroom together. The master bathroom had a double vanity large enough that they could get ready for bed side-by-side, and it felt like the most married thing Roy had ever done. And then it hit him, for the several hundredth time, that he and Jason were married, and his heart lit up with a powerful emotion somewhere in the realm of pride, satisfaction, and pleasure.

They retired to bed together. It was a queen-sized bed, the same as Roy’s bed they’d shared at home, so it wouldn’t be much of an adjustment. The mattress was far less comfortable than Roy’s, but that was a given. It was at least more comfortable than Jason’s.

The day’s summer heat had cooled somewhat after nightfall, but it was still quite warm, making the indoors feel stuffy, almost claustrophobic. Roy turned on the ceiling fan, which made a valiant effort to bring the temperature down at least a few degrees, with limited success. Roy also stripped the extra blankets off the bed, leaving himself and Jason with just a thin sheet covering them.

“It’s hot as hell in here,” Jason observed unnecessarily. Roy nodded his agreement.

“Nothing else we can do about it, I’m afraid,” he said. “The thermostat is locked. Guests aren’t allowed to control it.”

Jason groaned in complaint. He sat up and stripped off the white t-shirt he’d worn to bed, revealing his scarred, sculpted torso. Roy had seen Jason shirtless hundreds of times, but the sight never got old.

Now, if they were taking clothes off…

Roy stripped his shirt off as well, but he didn’t stop there. He was also wearing a pair of sweatpants that, he decided, were much too hot to sleep in on a night this warm. He stepped out of those too, leaving himself wearing nothing but his boxers. He could feel Jason’s eyes on him, but he acted oblivious to the attention, getting back in bed and curling up close to Jason, though not quite touching.

Jason got comfortable on his own side of the bed, facing Roy, like he knew they weren’t going to fall right to sleep. “Mia and Connor seem alright with you marrying someone you’re not in love with,” he observed. “Definitely more than it sounded like Dinah and Ollie were.”

“Dinah’s just worried about me,” Roy said. “She’s known me since I was a teenager; she’s like a mother to me. And Ollie… Ollie is Ollie. He cares about me too, and he’s had bad experiences with… certain types of people.” Roy didn’t need to go into too much detail here. Jason knew the basics, and the rest wasn’t Roy’s trauma to share.

“And to be fair, so have I,” Roy added, thinking about Jade. He could never regret what had happened. Their love had resulted in Lian, and Roy wouldn’t trade her for anything in the world. But their relationship had messed him up in a very real way that had taken him years to heal from, that he would probably never heal from completely.

“What Ollie doesn’t realize, or what he refuses to accept,” Roy explained, “Is that you’re not like the others. You’re a good friend to me and a good influence in Lian’s life. But he’s skeptical of that.” Roy shook his head. This was a difficult subject to talk about right before bed. He decided to change it. “Anyway, Mia and Connor aren’t my parents. They’re my younger siblings. They’re not going to be as protective of me as Dinah and Ollie are. They’ve also taken the time to get to know you, and I think they can tell we work well together. As friends.”

“And as husbands, apparently,” Jason observed.

Roy smiled. “Apparently.” He shifted in bed, getting more comfortable. “Is it the same with your family? Is Bruce going to kill me if I break your heart?”

“Oh yeah, I guarantee it,” Jason promised. “As for my siblings, I think they’re mostly entertained by our situation. They like you, so they’re not worried about me, and they like watching ridiculous shit happen to someone other than them for once.”

“Your family is always at the center of some kind of drama,” Roy observed. “You’re almost as bad as the speedsters.”

“And the Lanterns,” Jason added.

“Oh God, the Lanterns,” Roy agreed. “That’s drama at an interplanetary level.”

They ended up talking about speedster and Lantern drama for the better part of the next hour, before finally settling down to at least try to get to sleep.

Jason drifted off surprisingly quickly, and Roy found himself watching Jason’s bare chest rise and fall under the thin sheet. Roy had become adept at hiding his attraction to Jason, but during times like this, when he knew no one was watching, he allowed himself to take a moment and really feel it. It was overwhelming, what Roy felt for Jason. It was all-encompassing.

It was terrifying. It made him feel vulnerable.

It was invigorating. It made him feel alive.

By far the worst part was the torture of wanting to touch, to hold, to have something and only being allowed to look. Jason was Roy’s in the eyes of the law, and while that satisfied something inside Roy – the part of him that wanted Jason so badly he would take any part of him that he could get – it wasn’t what he wanted the most. He wanted Jason’s heart. He didn’t have that yet.

He would.

The next day, after a refreshing night’s sleep, Roy and Jason passed an easy morning, free from any awkwardness that Roy might have expected after sharing a bed again. He supposed they had more than enough practice by now.

“Sleep alright?” Roy asked Jason casually.

“Better than I have in a while,” Jason admitted. “I guess I needed a vacation.”

After getting ready for the day separately in their own rooms, the whole gang gathered in the living room in their swimsuits, hats, and sunglasses, slathered in sunscreen, ready for the beach.

The house Roy had rented was just a short walk from the shore. Connor carried tote bags full of snacks and supplies, beach towels and sunscreen for reapplication; Mia carried a large beach umbrella Roy had purchased for just this occasion and a couple of foldable chairs; Roy carried a cooler full of drinks; and Jason carried Lian, who bounced in his arms excitedly the moment she caught a glimpse of the ocean.

“There it is!” she announced.

The sand was scorching hot under the rays of the summer sun. Roy let Lian pick their spot, nestled between other groups of beachgoers, and he and Connor set up the umbrella while Jason laid out towels and Mia set up chairs.

Mia finished first and positioned herself in the sun with an ice-cold Cherry Coke and a bag of chips. She wore a white crochet beach cover over her bright red bikini, her sandals discarded in the sand and a floppy wide-brimmed hat shading her face from the sun.

Connor and Roy finished next. Connor cracked open a bottle of water and chugged half of it, wiping away the beads of sweat that were already appearing on his forehead in the heat. “Wanna go in the water with me, Lian?” he asked, holding out a hand. Lian nodded eagerly and took it, letting Connor lead her down to the waves.

Roy sat down next to Mia, partially in the sun and partially in the shade, and watched Jason dig through the cooler for his beverage of choice. Jason was shirtless, as he’d been the night before. His scars were on display, the usual nicks, cuts, slices, burns, and occasional bullet wound indicating a lifetime of vigilantism and the thin white lines of surgery scars from Jason’s death and resurrection. They were the kind of scars someone easily could have been self-conscious about, but Jason went about his life as though he was entirely unaware of their existence, or as though their existence was so inconsequential it didn’t warrant so much as a second thought.

Roy admired Jason’s attitude. Of course, Roy had plenty of scars of his own, as did Connor and Mia, but it was obvious from looking at him that Jason had been through the ringer over the course of his short life.

When Roy turned to look at Mia, he found her staring at Jason’s form appreciatively, unfazed by Jason’s scars, or perhaps intrigued by them. She leaned toward Roy and whispered under her breath, just loud enough to be heard over the sound of the waves and the seagulls and the chatter of other humans around them, “Nice work.”

Roy raised an eyebrow. “What?”

She nodded at Jason. “You landed that.”

“That” was certainly a prize; Roy couldn’t argue with Mia there. Tall, broad-shouldered, with thighs powerful enough to snap a man’s neck; Jason was, objectively and subjectively, hot. Despite his muscular physique and strong jaw Jason wasn’t “model hot”; he had a uniqueness to him. His green eyes were striking, his skin clearly didn’t see the sun all too often, and the white streak in his hair reflected the bright light blindingly, in sharp contrast to the rest of Jason’s messy black hair.

“We’re just friends,” Roy whispered back.

“Roy, that’s your husband,” Mia reminded him.

Roy looked back over at Jason. Mia was right. That was his husband. A part of him still couldn’t believe it. Another part of him wanted to shout it to the world, hire one of those advertising planes to carry a banner across the beach for all to see: “I WON!” it would read, in bold, black letters, and no one would know what it meant except Roy.

“I’m going down to the water with Connor and Lian,” Jason announced. Roy waved him off and watched him go, taking off at a light jog, weaving past umbrellas and towels and beach chairs. By the time he reached the water, he was just a smudge of a human, light skin and dark hair and red swim trunks.

Mia raised her voice to a conversational tone now that it was just the two of them. “Oh my God, Roy,” she practically squealed, “You like him.”

It was such a high school – no, middle school – thing to say that Roy had to laugh. “He’s my husband,” he said. “Of course I like him.”

Mia shot him a look. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

Roy looked away, feigning ignorance. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t.” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mia smirk. “He likes you too, you know.”

Roy smiled. “I know.” His gaze found Jason again, seeking him out like an oasis in the desert. “I just don’t know if he knows it.”

Chapter Text

“So you’re in love with Jason.” Mia sipped her Cherry Coke and leaned back in her beach chair, closing her eyes and soaking up the sun.

“I didn’t say that,” Roy said, neither confirming nor denying Mia’s suspicion.

Mia ignored him, continuing, “And Jason is probably in love with you. And the two of you are already married.” She popped a handful of potato chips in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, and took another sip. “Tell me again why you haven’t done anything about any of this?”

“I’m playing the slow game,” Roy informed her. “It’s none of your business.” No matter how close Mia got to the truth, Roy wasn’t going to let her in on the whole story. He was determined to keep his ten-step plan as much of a secret as he could. This was a considerable challenge when he surrounded himself with genius detectives, but he’d managed it this far, hadn’t he?

Mia tilted her sunglasses down and peered at Roy over the top of them. “Why don’t you just seduce him? I know you know how.”

“I’m not looking for that.”

“For what, sex? Yes you are.” Mia ate another handful of chips, waiting until her mouth was no longer full to continue speaking. “Connor may be asexual but I know you aren’t. What you mean is, you’re not looking for just sex. But you are still looking for sex.”

“I’ll tell you what I’m definitely not looking for,” Roy deadpanned. “I’m not looking for a lecture on sex. Especially not from my little sister.”

“I dunno, I feel like maybe it’s been a while,” Mia countered with a cheeky grin. “Maybe you could use some friendly tips from someone with more recent experience.”

“Absolutely not. No.” During moments like this, Roy almost wished he was an only child. At least he never had to worry about Connor trying to have conversations like this with him. He had to count his blessings where he could find them.

“I could be your wingwoman,” Mia offered. “You know I’d be good at it.”

“I don’t need a wingwoman. I have everything under control.”

Mia shot him a look, but Roy didn’t back down. Finally, she rolled her eyes, readjusted her sunglasses, and turned her gaze to the ocean in front of them. “Whatever you say, big brother.”

Connor and Lian returned from the ocean first, leaving wet footprints in the sand. Connor dug a couple of dry towels out of one of the bags they’d brought down to the beach with them and wrapped up Lian first, then himself.

“Lian and I are gonna build a sandcastle,” he said. “Who wants to help?”

“I’ll supervise,” Mia announced, leaning forward to indicate her interest. She tapped Roy with her hand that wasn’t holding her second bottle of Cherry Coke. “Roy, why don’t you go join your husband? You can’t go to the beach and not get in the water.”

Roy knew exactly what Mia was playing at, but he had to admit, she did have a point. Roy would get where he wanted to go a lot faster if he played all the cards in his hand, and one of those cards was seduction. He hadn’t actually put that much effort into seducing Jason so far, because as he’d indicated to Mia, he wanted more than just a sexual relationship. But, in combination with all the other cards he’d played, a little seduction might be just the trick to finally tip Jason over the edge.

Either way, it would be fun.

“Keep an eye on Lian, both of you,” he instructed Mia and Connor as he stood up. “Lian, listen to what Mia and Connor say.”

“Okay, Dad!” Lian agreed, waving him off as he ran down the beach to the ocean.

Jason was treading water out past the waves. He turned when he heard Roy approach. “Oh, hey. There you are. The water feels amazing, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Roy agreed. The August sun had warmed the ocean to a pleasant, not-quite-cool, not-quite-lukewarm temperature that was refreshing on such a hot day. “I just wish there weren’t so many people.” Even this far out, there were other adults treading water and teenagers bodyboarding on either side of them. If Roy had wanted intimacy, he wasn’t going to get it, at least not here. Still, he could work with his current circumstances.

“Maybe we’ll have to plan another vacation during the school year and come back when it’s less crowded,” he suggested. “Maybe just you, me, and Lian.” He paused, then lowered his voice and added, “Or maybe we get a sitter for Lian and go somewhere just you and me.”

“I think Lian would be upset if we went to the beach without her,” Jason replied. “She seems to love it here.”

Roy had to physically restrain himself from sighing. He never should have brought up Lian; he’d steered the conversation in the wrong direction by doing that. Clearly Playboy Roy was out of practice.

Maybe he just had to be blunt. “No, not the beach,” he said. “Somewhere more adult-oriented.”

That did the trick. Jason blinked, and for a moment it looked as though he didn’t know what to say to that. When he finally replied, it was just to say, “Yeah?”

This was encouraging. Roy bit back a grin. “Would you like that?” he asked.

Jason looked like his brain was buffering. Roy wondered what he was thinking. What he was… envisioning. “I… yeah. Probably. Where would we go?”

“We’ll decide together,” Roy promised. “Call it a honeymoon.”

“I don’t think it counts as a honeymoon if we don’t…” Jason trailed off, seeming to catch himself before he slipped and said too much. As if it wasn’t too late already.

Roy pretended he didn’t know exactly where Jason’s mind had gone and said, innocently, “What?”

Jason shook his head. Holy shit, was he blushing? It could have been the start of a sunburn, but it looked like Jason was actually fucking blushing. Cute. “Nothing,” he said quickly. “Never mind.”

Oh, this was going to be even easier than Roy had expected. He spent a little longer in the water with Jason, dropping innuendos wherever possible, winding Jason up tighter and tighter. It was endlessly amusing to watch him squirm. He had to know Roy was fucking with him, right?

As the sun began to reach its peak in the sky, Roy abruptly changed the subject. “Thirsty?” he said.

He saw Jason swallow. “What?”

Roy pointed up in the sky. “You’ve been out here in the sun for a while. I thought you might be thirsty. We don’t want you getting heatstroke.”

Jason nodded, seeming grateful for the out. “I’ll get some water,” he said, starting to swim back toward the shore.

Roy caught up and then swam ahead of him, stepping out of the waves as sensually as he possibly could, tossing his wet hair and adding a little extra swing to his hips. He glanced over his shoulder and caught Jason staring. He rewarded Jason with a satisfied smile.

“Good idea.”

After lunch on the boardwalk and a few more hours on the beach, the gang headed back to the rental house, rinsing off the sand of the beach and reconvening in the hot tub out back. Roy was already planning several hot tub-based seduction strategies. But first, he needed to get Jason alone. That was going to be easier said than done.

Or so he thought. After just about twenty minutes in the hot tub, Mia stood up and announced, “It’s kinda boring in here, huh, Lian?”

Lian nodded. She had been looking somewhat bored with the very grown-up activity of relaxing in a hot tub, doing nothing. Though, given their earlier wingwoman conversation, Roy suspected entertaining Lian was not Mia’s sole motivation.

Mia confirmed this suspicion by turning to Connor and saying, “Wanna play a board game with me and Lian? I think I saw a few in the house.”

Connor shrugged and followed Mia and Lian out of the hot tub and into the house, leaving Roy and Jason alone together for the second time that day. They were sitting next to each other, Roy’s arms resting on the ledge of the hot tub, brushing against Jason’s shoulders. They were close enough that when Roy moved his leg just a bit to the right, their knees touched.

“I legitimately don’t remember the last time I was in a hot tub,” Jason observed, breaking the tense silence between them. “Definitely before Bruce lost his fortune, that’s for sure.”

“I don’t remember my last time either, but I remember the most exciting time,” Roy replied with a smirk.

“Let me guess,” Jason said, “This was during the Playboy Roy era, am I right?” Roy nodded, his smirk widening into a grin. “Do I even want to know the details?”

“That depends. Are you a jealous man?”

“Not particularly.”

Roy leaned in closer to Jason so their sides were pressed against each other, like they had been at the dinner table last night, but this time they were wearing nothing but their swimsuits. Seemingly reflexively, Jason leaned toward Roy as well, and now Roy was speaking directly in his ear, his breath against Jason’s warm, wet skin.

“Let’s just say my experimental phase was a wild one,” Roy practically whispered, his voice low and seductive. If he wasn’t mistaken, he thought he felt Jason shiver; impressive, considering the temperature of the water they were soaking in. Roy swept his hand across the water’s surface, setting the scene. “Picture… five people in a hot tub, zero feet apart because they’re all gay.” He chuckled at his own joke, but Jason seemed to be taking it very seriously. There was a slightly dazed look in his eyes, and Roy asked, “You’re picturing it, huh?”

Jason bit his lip. “I plead the Fifth.”

“It was a fun time,” Roy said. “I’d love to do something like it again sometime.”

“Hot tub group sex?” Jason asked.

“Hot tub sex in general.”

Jason turned his head to look at Roy, and at this distance, they were practically on top of each other, practically kissing. Roy let his eyes drift down Jason’s figure as his hand ghosted over Jason’s arm, fingers tracing the cords of Jason’s muscle. Roy was acutely aware that all it would take was the slightest push, and he could have Jason in his bed – in their bed – right now.

But, well… Lian, Mia, and Connor were just inside, playing board games or something. Roy had a personal rule that he didn’t have sex in any situation where Lian could walk in on him. He wasn’t trying to traumatize her like that.

Besides, Roy wasn’t trying to fuck Jason tonight. He was trying to build anticipation. By the time he did fuck Jason, he wanted Jason begging for it.

And so he pulled away, establishing space between them until it was just their knees touching again. He heard Jason let out a breath.

“That reminds me,” Jason said, sounding shaken, “Something I’ve been meaning to ask you. I kind of assumed, but is this an open marriage?”

Roy was caught off guard by this line of questioning. Did Jason want to fuck other people? That wasn’t part of the plan. “I… guess we haven’t really talked about it, have we?” Roy remarked, recalibrating.

Here he’d been trying to throw Jason off his rhythm and Jason had turned the tables on him. While part of Roy was annoyed that things weren’t going meticulously according to plan, another part of him had to respect it.

“Not that it’s particularly important to me right now,” Jason clarified. “There’s no one I’m trying to open the marriage for. But, well, I mean, we’re not having sex with each other.” Yet. “So we probably should. Open the marriage, I mean. Unless we’re both planning on being celibate. Which, I mean… it has been a while, for me.”

Jason was rambling. So Roy had thrown him off his rhythm. Good. In that case, he’d play along. “It’s been a while for me too. I think we’ve talked about this. It’s been… an embarrassingly long time.”

“An entire calendar year,” Jason admitted.

A year? As in, twelve months? Roy laughed. Oh, that was just too good.

“Hey,” Jason said, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

“I’m not laughing at you,” Roy said, placing a placating hand on Jason’s arm. “I’m laughing because it’s been a year for me too. Exactly one year. Well, almost exactly.” Roy had hooked up with someone off a dating app for the very last time just before Jason had moved to New York.

Which meant Jason also hadn’t had sex with anyone since moving to New York. Interesting.

Jason looked shocked by the coincidence. “You’re joking.”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” Roy asked.

Jason chuckled. “No.” He shook his head. “That’s crazy. Well, hey, I guess that means you’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about. Neither of us do.”

“I think what it actually means is we’re getting old and boring,” Roy countered. “Any time I want to get laid, it’s a whole ordeal. I have to find someone on one of the apps, get a sitter for Lian, make myself look presentable… It’s a lot of work for one night.”

“It doesn’t have to be for just one night, you know,” Jason pointed out. “There are these things called relationships. I don’t know if you’ve heard of them.”

“Hey, I could say the same thing to you. When was the last time you’ve been in a relationship?”

“A serious one? Never.”

This wasn’t a surprise to Roy. They’d spoken about Jason’s lack of relationship experience and Roy’s lack of recent relationship experience, though they hadn’t delved deep into the why. “I’m not interested in starting a relationship with just anyone,” Roy said, choosing his words carefully so as not to reveal himself while technically still telling the truth. “Finding a random stranger and hoping they’re ‘the one.’ That doesn’t work for me.”

“But you’re open to the idea of ‘the one’ existing?”

“Are you asking me if I believe in love? Or are you asking me if I believe in soulmates?”

“Either,” Jason said. “Both.”

“Yes to believing in love,” Roy answered. “I’ve been in love before. Even though it didn’t work out in the end, that didn’t make it any less real while it lasted. As for soulmates… jury’s still out.”

Jason snorted. “I’ve never believed in any of that shit. The soulmate shit, I mean. I’m sure love is real, I’ve just never experienced it.”

“What if you met someone who was perfect for you in every way?” Roy asked. “Would you believe in soulmates then?”

“I’d think I got insanely lucky. Eight billion people in the world and I found one who’s perfect for me in every way. I mean, what are the odds?”

“I think the odds are one in eight billion,” Roy deadpanned.

Jason smacked him lightly. “That was a rhetorical question, smartass.”

Roy ignored him. “Unless you think there’s more than one person out there who’s perfect for you. In which case the odds would be a lot higher.”

“I think some people probably have more than one person in the world who would be perfect for them,” Jason said. “I think I’d be lucky if I even have one.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “Man, shut the hell up. You’re not as special as you think you are.” He leaned back in the hot tub, kicking his feet up on the opposite ledge, where Mia, Connor, and Lian had been sitting before they’d left to play games in the house.

“Back to your question, though,” Roy said, bringing their conversation back around. “Do you want this to be an open marriage?”

“I mean, it probably should be, right?” Jason replied. “If we’re not fucking each other.”

“If” being the operative word. “I’m not interested in ‘should,’” Roy insisted. “I want to know what you want.”

There was a long pause during which Jason appeared to consider this. Really consider it. Roy watched him, wondering what was going on behind those eyes. He knew Jason pretty damn well, but he wasn’t a mind reader. He could only guess what Jason was thinking. He could only hope that he was thinking that what he wanted, what he actually, really wanted, was sitting right next to him, but he thought he couldn’t say it.

“Maybe we revisit the question when one of us actually wants to have sex with someone else,” Jason finally decided.

So he wasn’t going to commit to wanting to fuck other people. But he also wasn’t going to admit to wanting to fuck Roy. Fair enough. Roy had played the long game this far; he could keep going. “That’s what you want?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” Roy nodded. “That works for me.”

Jason visibly relaxed. “Cool.”

That night, Roy and Jason shared a bed again in what was starting to feel like a routine, though after the events of the day, the action had taken on different undertones. As they stripped down to their underwear to get comfortable in the too-warm room, Roy couldn’t help but wish they were stripping for a different reason.

Under the thin sheet, with the fan running, and wearing next to nothing, Roy’s skin still felt like it was on fire. He wanted to touch Jason. He wanted Jason to touch him. He wanted to remove the last bits of fabric that kept them from pressing themselves together, skin-on-skin, like they had in the hot tub, but this time make it interesting.

He wanted to feel Jason come undone underneath him. He wanted to cover Jason’s mouth with his hand, whispering for him to be quiet; Lian and Mia were asleep in the next room. He wanted so much more than to lie here beside Jason, leaving careful space between them, pretending they didn’t both want each other like crazy.

Roy didn’t get any part of what he wanted that night. But then again, neither did Jason. And Roy could tell he wanted it too. He didn’t have to be a mind reader to see that Jason was burning from the inside the same way Roy was.

He wondered what Jason was thinking about. Was he wishing Roy had made a move in the hot tub, sealing the deal between them when all he’d really done was tease? Was he wishing Roy would make a move right now? Roy wanted to whisper to him in the darkness, “What do you want me to do to you?” He’d give Jason anything he asked for.

Roy hardly slept. Neither did Jason. They both tossed and turned for hours, finally drifting off facing opposite directions, ignoring the other’s presence. It was the only way Roy could get his body to calm down and his mind to be quiet.

When they woke, they were short-tempered from a lack of sleep, avoiding each other for most of the morning. Every time they accidentally made eye contact, Jason would look away. Every time they accidentally touched, he would flinch.

Roy’s only consolation was the near-definitive proof that Jason was down bad. No way would he be acting like this if he wasn’t. Which meant Roy’s seduction tactics were working.

And so, despite his own exhaustion and sexual frustration, Roy soldiered on. He got dressed extra slowly, giving Jason plenty of opportunity to look. He took an extra long morning shower and let Jason imagine what he was doing in there.

At the beach, Roy asked Jason to apply sunscreen to his back, then offered to return the favor, making slow, methodical movements with his hands, massaging the lotion into Jason’s skin.

When it got too hot, even in the shade of their umbrella, Roy tilted his head back and took a long, refreshing drink of water, then splashed what remained in the bottle onto his face and neck to cool himself down. Rivulets ran down his bare torso and onto the sand; droplets collected on his shoulders. He felt Jason watching.

After lunch, the gang got ice cream. When Jason’s mint chocolate chip dropped down his chin, Roy pointed it out – “You’ve got a little something…” – and reached out a hand to wipe the ice cream off the corner of Jason’s lips, then licked the ice cream off his own thumb.

Everything Roy did that day felt like it violated the Geneva Conventions’ prohibition on torture. But Roy would happily become an international war criminal if that was what it took to make Jason fall for him.

In between these calculated acts of seduction, Roy took every opportunity to touch Jason. Innocent brushes of skin on skin, sitting just a little too close, a friendly hand on his shoulder or the small of his back.

And all the while Mia, despite Roy’s earlier protest, continued acting in the role of wingwoman and giving her best damn performance. Whenever she could, she ushered Connor and Lian off somewhere else to give Roy and Jason more moments alone. As loath as Roy was to admit she’d been right and he’d been wrong, a larger part of him was grateful that Mia hadn’t listened to him.

Despite Roy and Mia’s best efforts, that night, Jason still didn’t cave. He didn’t the next night either, or the next. Roy knew if he came right out and actually propositioned Jason, Jason would crumble like a precarious cliffside in a Wile E. Coyote cartoon, but apparently without that obvious green light, Jason wasn’t going to budge.

Roy could have done just that. He could have propositioned Jason. It would be a quick and easy way to get what he wanted… but not everything he wanted.

Because as sure as Roy was that Jason was attracted to him, he wasn’t sure Jason was in love the way Roy was in love, which meant there was still a risk. Roy could proposition Jason, they could fuck, and then Roy could confess his feelings and Jason’s fear of commitment and vulnerability would kick in and all would be lost.

Maybe – in fact, almost certainly – this was an illogical expectation, the result of Roy’s own fears of commitment and vulnerability. But the tag team of his trauma and anxiety was a tough one for Roy to beat all by himself. He still couldn’t open himself up to the possibility of rejection, no matter how slim.

Clearly Roy needed to alter his strategy.

In order to give himself an opportunity to assess the current state of his ten-step plan, on the final day of their vacation, Roy backed off of Jason a little. He didn’t fully disengage – he didn’t want to lose his progress, or plant the idea in Jason’s head that he was no longer interested – but he showed some mercy. His tactics were no longer torturous.

Mia seemed to notice the change in Roy’s behavior, and when the pair of them had a second alone, at a boardwalk arcade Roy had brought the gang to, she called him on it.

“Did the two of you finally do it?” she asked, sidling up to the skee-ball lane next to Roy and inserting a quarter to start the machine.

“What are you, twelve?” Roy teased. “No, we didn’t ’do it.’ We haven’t ‘done’ anything.”

“You sound frustrated,” Mia observed. “Don’t tell me you’ve already given up. I thought you were in love with the guy?”

“First of all, I never said that,” Roy protested, though he didn’t deny it. “And no, I haven’t given up. I’m just… recalibrating.”

“Oh yeah? What’s the next step of the plan?”

This specific wording set off alarm bells in Roy. He side-eyed Mia as she rolled a ball up the ramp, scoring one hundred points on her first try. “What makes you think I have a plan?”

“Oh, please,” she said, scoring another hundred points, well on her way to a high score. “You’re Roy Harper. You always have a plan.” Another hundred points, and finally she turned to look at him. “Also, I overheard Dinah on the phone with you. Pick a more covert method of communication next time.”

Roy sighed. Mia was right. In hindsight, he’d been careless. He shouldn’t have admitted anything to Dinah in the first place.

Though Mia had been helpful…

“Alright,” Roy said, “Fine. What would your next step be?”

“I’d find out what’s stopping him. Why haven’t any of your seduction attempts worked? He’s clearly into you. And why, if he’s into you, hasn’t he tried anything yet?”

“I already know why,” Roy told her. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Jason was still out of earshot. “Everyone in his family has this fear of opening up about their feelings, him included. It’s fucking congenital.”

“Sex doesn’t have to involve feelings,” Mia pointed out. “He could fuck you without having to admit he’s in love with you. You could too, but you haven’t because you want to be able to do both. Does he have the same reason? Is he in love with you and he’s not sure you feel the same way? That’s what you need to figure out.”

“I’ve been trying,” Roy protested. “I don’t know what else I can do besides ask him.”

“So ask him.”

Roy recoiled from the mere suggestion. “I’m not doing that.”

Mia groaned in exasperation. “You’re not getting it. Don’t just up and ask him if he’s in love with you. That’s coming on way too strong. Ask him without him realizing that’s what you’re asking him. For fuck’s sake, Roy, you’re a detective; it shouldn’t be that hard.”

“He’s also a detective, you know.”

“So be a better one. You have so far.” Mia rolled her last ball up the ramp, and her lane lit up, announcing in lit-up letters, “HIGH SCORE.” The bright lights and accompanying sounds caught Lian’s attention, whose loud celebration in turn caught the attention of Connor and Jason, bringing Roy and Mia’s conversation to a close.

As she ripped the tickets the game rewarded her out of the machine, Mia said her final piece: “You’re Roy Harper. Act like it.”

Once again, Mia was right. Roy needed to do some serious detective work. That night in bed with Jason – their last night in the room together – he started laying the groundwork, carefully but deliberately.

“You said you don’t believe in soulmates,” he began, speaking softly into the warm, quiet night. He and Jason were in their underwear again, but their circumstances felt much less sexual than on previous nights. Still, Roy knew if he wanted to, he could flip the scenario like a dime; if this week had proven anything, it was that Jason was easier to turn on than a lightswitch.

“No,” Jason answered, shifting in bed to face Roy. Roy followed his lead.

“But you do believe in love.”

Jason shrugged a shoulder noncommittally. “Sure.”

“In your mind, what’s the difference?”

“A soulmate is someone who’s perfect for you in every way,” Jason answered. “Nobody is like that in real life. People have flaws.”

“I think the idea of a soulmate is that their flaws are compatible with your flaws,” Roy said.

“But nobody is going to be compatible in every single way,” Jason argued. “Like I said, the odds are nearly impossible.”

“Nearly?” Roy clarified. “So not entirely impossible?”

“I guess, theoretically, soulmates could exist,” Jason capitulated. “But I don’t think it should be the standard for a successful relationship.”

“What should the standard be, then?”

Jason rolled back over, looking up at the ceiling. “I think that’s something everyone has to decide for themselves.”

“What’s your standard, then?” Roy asked.

Jason was quiet for a moment before he answered, “If I were in a relationship, I’d want to be with someone who makes me a better person and to know that I make them a better person.”

Roy was surprised by what a thoughtful, sensible answer this was. “Solid standard,” he said. Then he asked the real question, the one he’d been building up to with this whole conversation: “And you don’t think you’ve met someone like that?”

“I don’t make anyone a better person,” Jason said wryly. “Other than maybe Lian, which is very different.”

Roy nodded. On the outside, he was calm. On the inside, though, he was furiously scribbling notes and adding pieces to the mental puzzle of Jason that he kept in his mind, a conspiracy theorist’s web of red string.

Jason’s answer made total sense. It wasn’t necessarily that he wasn’t interested, or at least open to the idea of a relationship. But he felt that he was unworthy. This tracked with what Roy knew of Jason’s low, low self-esteem.

“You’ve absolutely made Lian a better person,” Roy confirmed. “But she’s not the only one.”

Jason turned to him, one eyebrow raised. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Roy said. He knew he wasn’t going to convince Jason of this in one night, so he didn’t press the issue. But there was one point he wanted to make before he let the matter go, because he felt it was important: “You know, you could work on this sort of thing in therapy.”

Jason shot him a look, but surprisingly didn’t argue. Instead, all he said was, “Well it’s a good thing I’ve finally got health insurance, then.”

Roy fought to keep most of the shock off his face. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Jason shifted, clearly uncomfortable with his mental health being the subject of conversation, but apparently not uncomfortable enough to change the subject, because he added, “I’ve been looking.”

“You have?” Roy couldn’t keep his surprise under control anymore. “Jay, that’s incredible. Seriously.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jason waved away Roy’s praise. “It’s not that big a deal. I haven’t even made an appointment yet.”

“Sure, but it’s a first step. I’m proud of you.”

“Uh-huh,” Jason said. “So, you know, if you’ve ever doubted whether you make anyone a better person… you’ve made me one.”

Chapter Text

They left the beach on Saturday, having spent the whole week there. Lian was refreshed and ready to start school on Monday; she spent the car ride home chattering nonstop about all the friends she was excited to see again, the subjects she was most and least looking forward to continuing to learn, the games she was going to play on the playground and the activities she would participate in during P.E. Roy distantly remembered being that young; he’d never been this excited about school. He hoped this meant he’d instilled a stronger love of learning in Lian than he’d ever had.

Meanwhile, Roy and Jason spent the drive home mostly in silence, not just because Lian hardly let them get a word in edgewise, but because they were both deep in thought. At least, Roy was, and Jason seemed to be. When he wasn’t actively listening to Lian, Jason was staring out the window at the passing trees and buildings with a glazed expression on his face. Physically, he was sitting in the passenger seat, but mentally, he appeared to have gone somewhere else entirely.

Mentally, Roy was still in the master bedroom of the rental beach house, lying next to Jason, talking about soulmates. It had taken every ounce of self-control within him not to give into his impulses and kiss Jason right then and there, when he’d said his piece about Roy making him a better person. First, because it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to him. And second, because it seemed to confirm Roy’s deepest desire: that Jason had finally fallen for him. That Jason was perhaps even as in love with Roy as Roy was with him. What else could he possibly have meant by saying that?

But Roy hadn’t given in. Not lying there in bed, and not in any moment since, even though he was still sorely tempted; every time he looked at Jason, he wanted to kiss him. He wanted to confess everything.

Roy knew, deep down, that it wasn’t strength that kept him from giving in. It wasn’t even stubbornness. It was cowardice. It was fear. He couldn’t get his heart broken. He knew, logically, that he wouldn’t – he was almost certain that he wouldn’t – but his anxieties wouldn’t listen to logic. They never did. All they did was stoke that tiny ember of doubt that remained until it was a raging inferno, until Roy was second-guessing his own perception of reality, until it felt like an impossibility that Jason would ever love him.

Perhaps Jason wasn’t the only one who needed to be in therapy.

They arrived home late in the afternoon. Roy and Jason unpacked their bags, then Jason made dinner while Roy helped Lian unpack and get all her school supplies ready for the upcoming week: notebooks, binders, pencils, pens, paper, and her Disney princess lunch box, which Roy was pleased to find she had not yet outgrown, though he knew it was only a matter of time.

All the while, in the back of his mind, Roy was kicking himself for being the way that he was.

They sat down for dinner. Roy spent the meal sneaking glances at Jason across the table. Jason was an excellent chef, but Roy could hardly taste the food he’d made for them. Everything he put in his mouth was tinged with a metallic flavor, reminiscent of blood. Roy’s anxiety helpfully provided that he was probably dying. Dying of what? Who knew. Something.

Lian’s voice sounded distant as she continued to gush about her school friends. Roy could hardly keep up with what she was saying. Jason ended up engaging her in conversation for most of the meal, and guilt began to pool in Roy’s gut, seeping slowly throughout his entire body. He was so preoccupied with his own petty worries that he couldn’t even be present for his own kid on the day before she went back to school for fourth grade. What kind of father was he?

After dinner, Jason put Lian to bed while Roy sat in the living room, staring at the black screen of the TV, tapping his fingers against his knees. A quiet voice in the back of his mind – the version of him who was a mental health counselor and knew what he was talking about – told him he was having an anxiety attack. A much louder voice in the front of his mind told him he didn’t know shit and he was definitely dying. His skin itched from the inside. His vision was blurred around the edges. His heart was racing a million miles a minute.

Jason came downstairs and found him there, having not moved an inch. Concern was written across his features. He came over and sat down next to Roy, who did his best to appear sane and normal when he turned to look at him.

The loud voice in his brain unhelpfully told him that he was going to scare Jason off. That he was acting crazy. That he was getting worked up over nothing. That—

“What’s going on?”

Jason’s voice was solid and level. Roy latched onto it, the only steady thing in his world right now. How was he going to patrol tonight in his current state? He couldn’t afford to skip another night of patrol; he and Jason had both been gone from the city for a week. Who knew what depravity the criminals of New York had gotten up to in their absence?

The quiet voice in the back of his mind reminded him that the city had gotten along just fine before he and Jason had each respectively moved there, and that it wasn’t going to fall apart if Roy took one more night off. The louder voice, however, told him that everything would absolutely fall apart, the fate of the city was resting solely on his shoulders, and he had to get his shit together right now or any number of terrible things would happen. The city would burn down, probably. He would disappoint everyone who relied on him, definitely. Not that he hadn’t done that already before.

He realized belatedly that he hadn’t answered Jason’s question. His fingers tapped faster in a futile effort to keep up with the pace of his own brain. Jason reached out and gently took Roy’s hands in his.

“Tell me what happened,” Jason said.

Roy shook his head. That was the last thing he should do. If Jason knew what had caused this, Roy would ruin all the progress he’d made with him. Jason would realize how crazy he was and rethink whether he wanted to stay committed to him. He’d probably ask for a divorce.

He might even want to move out. Then who would watch Lian during the school year? Roy hadn’t enrolled her in her usual after-school program, thinking he’d have Jason around to take care of her in the afternoons. If he lost Jason, he’d have to find a daycare program that would accept such a last-minute application. That was bound to be expensive. Roy didn’t have that much room in the budget. He’d have to make cuts somewhere else. There was only so much he could cut back on before it started impacting Lian’s quality of life. That was the last thing Roy wanted. He needed to get his shit together. Fuck.

“If you can’t put it into words, can you at least nod or shake your head?” Jason was asking.

Roy nodded. He swallowed around a lump in his throat. Jason was being so patient with him. Roy didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this level of care. He felt supremely unworthy.

“Are you having an anxiety attack?” Jason asked him.

Roy nodded again, humiliation pricking at the corners of his eyes and creeping up his neck. He fought the tears and the flush that both threatened to make his situation even more embarrassing than it already was.

“Is there something I can do to help you?” Jason continued. “Is there some kind of music you usually play to relax yourself?”

Roy’s eyes darted to the record player in the corner of the room. Jason’s gaze followed his.

“Okay, I’m going to put a record on. Stay here. Try to breathe slowly. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Four, seven, eight. Got it?”

Roy nodded. He closed his eyes and breathed in, counting slowly to four, then to seven, then breathing out to the count of eight. He repeated this as Jason released his hands and stood from the couch, making his way across the living room, putting on a record of Fleetwood Mac’s greatest hits. A good choice; the familiarity of the music would hopefully relax Roy. “Rhiannon” began to play.

Jason returned and took Roy’s hands in his again. Roy opened his eyes. His heart rate had started to slow. His mind had started to clear. He still felt embarrassed, deeply embarrassed, but he was no longer actively spiraling.

“Do you want to tell me what triggered this?” Jason asked.

Roy shook his head.

“Was it something I did? Or something I said?”

He shook his head again.

Jason hesitated, then asked, “Do you want me to hold you?”

Roy knew he should refuse Jason’s offer. But the truth was, yes, he did want to be held. So before he could think better of it, he nodded.

“Okay, lay down.”

Roy lay down on the sofa, leaving room for Jason to lay behind him. It was a tight fit, but they made it work, Jason wrapping his arms and legs around Roy, anchoring him in place. Roy resumed his four-seven-eight breathing.

They stayed like that for the entirety of “Rhiannon,” then “Don’t Stop,” then “Go Your Own Way.” The next song that played, as Roy was starting to sink back into reality, into his body and out of his anxious brain, was, appropriately, “Hold Me.”

Jason spoke softly into Roy’s ear. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” Roy said. His voice was unexpectedly hoarse, like he hadn’t spoken in days. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Thank you. I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“I know this was probably… unexpected.” An understatement.

“Anxiety attacks usually are,” Jason said. “Do you want to stay like this a while longer?”

Once again, Roy knew he should refuse. But the idea of Jason releasing him now, of him no longer being physically near, was unbearable. And so instead he said, “If you don’t mind.”

“Not even a little bit.”

Jason stayed where he was. So did Roy. The song changed again. The voice of Christine McVie sang, “Can you hear me calling out your name? You know that I’m falling and I don’t know what to say.”

Roy closed his eyes and sank into the sensation of Jason’s arms around him, Jason’s body against his. He didn’t notice himself start to drift off to sleep.

Roy didn’t wake until morning. The light coming in through the living room windows stirred him from his dreamless slumber; he blinked his eyes open in confusion, briefly disoriented before memories of the previous night came flooding back to him.

He closed his eyes again, awash with shame. Jason was pressed up against him, breathing deeply, still asleep. His limbs were tangled around Roy’s; there was no way Roy could extricate him without waking Jason up. And so he remained where he was, already thinking up excuses he could give Jason that would explain his behavior the previous night.

There was no way he could tell Jason the truth: that he’d had an anxiety attack triggered by the fact that he was so in love with Jason that he couldn’t admit it. But he didn’t want to lie either. He resolved to tell as little of the truth as possible without giving himself away.

He felt Jason stir.

“Wha…?”

Jason sat up slightly, releasing Roy enough that Roy could peel them apart from one another and stand. Jason looked up at him, blinking the sleep out of his eyes, visibly confused for a moment before he, too, remembered how they’d ended up there.

“How are you feeling?” Jason asked, sitting up fully, rubbing his face. The sofa cushions had left creases across his cheek and flattened his hair on one side.

“I’m okay,” Roy answered truthfully. “We skipped patrol last night.”

Jason shrugged. “Doesn’t seem like the city’s fallen into chaos around us,” he observed wryly, looking around. “I think we’re probably fine. We’ll pick it back up tonight.”

Jason’s practicality was refreshing for Roy’s anxious mind. Roy realized Jason was right. New York City was still standing. Nothing terrible had happened because they’d both taken an extra night off.

“Thanks,” Roy said, stretching the sore muscles in his neck and shoulders from sleeping on the couch and avoiding eye contact with Jason. “For everything. And—”

“If you start apologizing again, Harper, I swear to God,” Jason warned. “You have nothing to apologize for. You think I’ve never had an anxiety attack before?”

Roy didn’t answer. Jason was right. Anxiety was normal and nothing to be ashamed of. Jason had it too. A lot of people did. If Jason had been the one to have an anxiety attack, would Roy think Jason had anything to be embarrassed about? No. Of course not.

Jason continued, “I get it. Believe me. We don’t have to mention it again. But don’t be embarrassed. Seriously, it was no big deal.” Jason placed a comforting hand on Roy’s shoulder. “I was happy to help.”

That night, Jason and Roy went out patrolling again, for the first time in over a week. Jason had several leads to follow up on in his search for Sergey Kevorkov, who had all but disappeared off the face of the earth after escaping from jail.

“I’m starting to think he really did make it back to Russia,” Jason said as they were suiting up. “It’s the only explanation that makes any sense. I just wish I had some confirmation so I could stop looking for him.”

“Do you want any help with that tonight?” Roy offered. “I could take some of those leads for you.”

“Sure, yeah,” Jason agreed. “Let me get you the info you’ll need.”

Once Roy had been debriefed, they split up in their search, hoping to cover twice as much ground between them. Unfortunately, by the time they called it quits for the night and returned home, as the first fingers of dawn were starting to reach onto the horizon, they were no closer to finding Sergey than they’d been a week ago.

“Slippery motherfucker,” Jason complained.

Without discussing it, they went their separate ways to go to sleep. Jason showered in the hall bathroom, Roy in the master bathroom. Roy emerged to his empty bedroom and his empty bed. He recalled the sight of Jason curled up in that same bed and fought off a growing sense of loneliness that had settled in his chest.

Roy knew he wouldn’t get much sleep that night. After just one month of sharing a bed with Jason, and one more week together at the beach, Roy had completely lost the ability to sleep alone. He tossed and turned every night, plagued with insomnia, reaching out across the covers into the empty space beside him, missing Jason’s warmth and solid presence. Tonight wasn’t likely to be the exception, especially given Roy’s all-too-recent anxiety attack.

It almost wasn’t worth even attempting to sleep, but he tried anyway, making himself as comfortable as he could in a bed that, despite having been engineered for comfort in every conceivable way, felt lacking now. He closed his eyes, willing sleep to come.

No such luck. Seconds turned to minutes turned to hours, and before he knew it, light was streaming through Roy’s bedroom window and he hadn’t slept a wink.

Roy sighed and closed his eyes one more time, gathering his remaining shreds of willpower for the day ahead. With a mixture of anticipation and dread, he realized it was Monday: Lian’s first day of school. He couldn’t phone it in on such an important day. He needed to bring his A game.

He forced himself out of bed and got dressed mechanically, going through the motions, saving his energy for his interactions with Lian that day. With another surge of dread, he realized how much work he would have to do today after taking an entire week off. No rest for the wicked, he supposed, running a hand over his face in exhaustion.

Once he was dressed and ready for the day – as ready as he’d ever be – he crossed the hall to Lian’s room, and there he found that Lian was already awake, standing in front of her dresser with Jason, picking out her outfit for the day. Jason turned and greeted Roy with a friendly smile.

“I got things covered up here if you want to get breakfast ready,” Jason told him, and Roy was nearly bowled over with a wave of gratitude.

“You’re up earlier than usual,” he observed.

Jason gestured to Lian, who was holding up her new favorite shirt, a black t-shirt with a rainbow on it made of rhinestones. Mia had just given it to her, telling her she could wear it to Pride next year with her two dads. “It’s Lian’s first day of school today,” Jason said. “I figured you could both use some help getting everything ready on time.”

Roy could have cried tears of joy. Instead, he simply returned Jason’s smile. “Thank you,” he said. Then, getting back to business, he added, “I’ll take care of breakfast. Meet me downstairs in ten minutes, you two.”

Roy warmed up some overnight oats and blended a trio of smoothies. He was just setting everything out on the kitchen table when Jason and Lian came downstairs. Lian was wearing her t-shirt from Mia with a pair of denim shorts embroidered with little daisies on them. Her hair was pulled back into two identical braids, tied off with mismatched red and yellow elastic bands.

Lian held her arms out and exclaimed, “Dad, look at the outfit I picked!” She spun around to show it off.

Roy grinned. “You look beautiful, princess,” he said. “You and Jay did a great job. Did Jay help you with your hair?”

“Yes, I wanted braids,” Lian said.

“They look very nice. They match your outfit perfectly. Did you tell Jay thank you?”

Lian turned to Jason and said, “Thank you, Jay!”

Jason smiled down at her. “Anytime, princess.”

After breakfast, as they were heading out the door, Roy pulled Jason aside. “You’ve gotten really good at doing Lian’s hair,” he said.

“I’ve watched so many YouTube tutorials,” Jason admitted. “It’s a good opportunity to practice flexibility in my injured hand, too.” Jason flexed his scarred hand.

“How’s your hand been, by the way?” Roy asked.

Jason made a vague gesture with his hand. “It’ll take a while to get back my full range of motion,” he said. “That’s what my physical therapist said, anyway.” Jason had already been to a couple physical therapy appointments since getting married to Roy, and Roy occasionally caught him mindlessly doing his physical therapy exercises when he was otherwise idle.

Roy had been to physical therapy plenty of times before over his vigilante career. He knew how long the process could take. He nodded empathetically. “You’ll get there eventually.”

Jason drove Lian to school, Roy riding in the passenger seat. He wanted to see Lian off, and since Lian’s school was just a few minutes’ drive from their house and Roy didn’t have any pressing business that morning, he could afford to be a little late to work in order to do so.

They pulled up in front of the school, in a line of cars with all the other parents who’d driven their kids instead of having them walk or take the bus. Roy made Lian check her backpack one last time to ensure she had everything: notebooks, binders, pencils, pens, paper, lunch box Jason had packed the night before. Once Roy was satisfied Lian would be well-prepared for her first day, she got out of the car, backpack slung over her shoulders and a jacket tied around her waist just in case her classroom was chilly.

“Have a good first day, princess!” Roy called out to her as she walked up the steps to the school. “We love you!”

“I’ll see you after school!” Jason added.

Lian turned to wave goodbye to both of them before disappearing through the front entrance, ushered inside by the school’s principal and vice principal, who were outside greeting students and their parents.

Jason waited until Lian was fully inside the building before he pulled away, driving back toward the house. “You sure you don’t want me to just drop you off at work?” he asked. “Lian and I could come pick you up after.”

“That’s alright; I left my laptop at home anyway,” Roy said. He didn’t want to make Jason go to any extra trouble. He still felt residual guilt about his anxiety attack that weekend, and how Jason had had to help him recover. “Thank you, though.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

Roy thought about Lian in her rainbow t-shirt and embroidered shorts, with her braids and her lunch box packed with a nutritious meal. Before he could talk himself out of saying anything, he added, “And thank you for everything you’ve done for Lian today. And every day.”

Jason shot him a brief, questioning glance before returning his attention to the road. “It’s not that much, if you think about it.”

“It is, though,” Roy argued. “You’re like a second father to her.”

“Legally, I kind of am.”

“You have been for a while, though. Longer than we’ve been married. She had an amazing summer because of you.”

“You’re the one who booked her all those fun summer camps.”

“And you drove her there and picked her up, packed her lunches, helped her with her taekwondo form, hung up all her paintings, practiced soccer with her in the yard, congratulated her every time she learned something new, watched her every evening, made her dinner and put her to bed when I had to work late, listened to her talk about her day, taught her new skills, and have always shown a genuine interest in her life,” Roy listed. He was barely scratching the surface of all the things, large and small, that Jason did for Lian, but hopefully he’d made his point. “You’ve learned how to do her hair. Seriously, you’ve gone above and beyond in every possible way and…”

Roy took a breath, considering his next words, deciding how much vulnerability he was willing to show. For Lian’s sake, he decided it was worth it to be vulnerable. For Jason’s sake, too, because Jason deserved to know what a big difference he made in Lian’s life, and in Roy’s.

So Roy continued, “I want you to know that I’ve noticed, and I’m so grateful for you. Every day I feel lucky to have you in our lives. In my life. I—” I love you. No, he couldn’t say that. “Thank you.” Yes, that was easier.

Jason shook his head. “You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “Really. None of what I do for Lian has been hard. I love being a part of her life.” He paused, and, apparently also deciding to be vulnerable, added, “I’m just grateful you’ve been able to trust me with her. I know I haven’t always been a good role model.”

“Neither have I,” Roy said. “Some of us have to learn things the hard way. Considering the amount of shit we’ve both been through, I think it’s a miracle we turned out as good as we did. Most people with that level of trauma would not make good parents without years of therapy. Which, to be fair, I’ve had. But you haven’t.”

Jason chuckled to himself. “Check on me again in a few years,” he promised. “I’ll catch up to you.”

They arrived at home, Jason pulling into the driveway. They both got out of the car.

“Have you made any progress on finding a therapist?” Roy asked.

“I’ve reached out to a few who I found online, but they haven’t all gotten back to me yet,” Jason said. “And I know sometimes you need to see a few different therapists to find the right fit. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, that’s usually the case,” Roy confirmed. “I’ve actually been thinking I should get myself back in therapy too. It’s been a while, and I think I have more work to do.” He smirked. “That’s the thing they don’t tell you about therapy. You never fully solve your problems. You just learn how to live with them. And sometimes your circumstances change and you have to relearn it all over again. It’s never-ending.”

“Great,” Jason said sarcastically. “I love that for me.”

Roy laughed. “It’s worth it, though. I promise.”

“It can’t be that bad if you’re thinking about doing it again,” Jason reasoned.

They entered the house. “It’s not bad at all. You’ll be glad you did it.” Roy grabbed his work bag and the keys to Jason’s motorcycle where they were sitting by the front door. “See you after work tonight.”

“See you.”

Roy spent an exhausted day at the office, grateful he hadn’t booked any patients that day, because he would not have been in top form. Instead, he spent the day catching up on insurance paperwork and the like, tedious clerical work that he had difficulty staying focused on while running on so little sleep.

He left at five o’clock on the dot, earlier than he normally would, but he couldn’t bear the idea of sitting at a desk and staring at a computer for one moment longer. The drive home was a refreshing one; he’d come to enjoy commuting on Jason’s motorcycle. It gave him an opportunity to unwind after a long day.

When he got home, dinner was waiting for him. Jason had heated up their leftovers from the previous night. They always made more than they needed on the weekends, using the leftovers for meal prep throughout the week. This was a strategy Roy had developed when he’d been a single, working parent, without Jason to help him, but it was still useful for taking some of Jason’s workload off of him. Jason did plenty around the house already, and he worked; he didn’t need to be making three fresh meals a day on top of all that.

Not for the first time, it mystified Roy that Jason could think so little of himself while doing so much. He genuinely hoped he could get Jason to see what a difference he made in Roy and Lian’s lives, though he knew he was fighting an uphill battle against Jason’s self-esteem. Hopefully the therapy would help.

They ate dinner together while Lian recounted her day, from start to finish, in excruciating detail. Roy knew this was not Jason’s favorite part of step-parenthood, so when Jason got up to do the dishes, giving himself an excuse to leave the table, Roy let him, even though he usually tried to do the dishes when Jason cooked.

Jason put Lian to bed again that night. They’d resumed their old routine of reading together before Lian went to sleep. Roy knew it was one of Jason’s favorite parts of the day.

Afterward, they patrolled separately again, each chasing different leads on Sergey Kevorkov. Jason had finally found someone who has actually seen the man since he’d broken out of jail. Supposedly he hadn’t made it to Russia yet. Supposedly he didn’t have any intentions of escaping back to Russia, which meant he must have been up to something in the States. Probably trying to resurrect his arms trafficking operation. This was Jason’s leading theory; they discussed it after patrol before going to bed.

“Hopefully he doesn’t decide to branch out,” Jason said. “Weapons are one thing, but if this guy starts trafficking humans, I’m gonna have to kill him.”

They made their way upstairs, and Roy sorely wanted to ask Jason to come to bed with him, not even for any sexual reason; just so he could finally get a good night’s sleep. But he let Jason continue on past the master bedroom to the hall bathroom to take a shower. He didn’t try to stop him.

He resigned himself to another sleepless night.

At four-thirty in the morning, Roy found himself in the kitchen, snacking on trail mix and feeling an addict’s nostalgia for the days when he used to be able to drink himself to sleep. He heard footsteps coming from the upstairs hallway. When the footsteps descended the stairs, he expected to see Lian, having woken up from a nightmare and looking for her father. But that wasn’t who it was.

Jason entered the moonlit kitchen, looking surprised to see Roy there too. “What are you doing up?” he asked, taking in the scene before him: trail mix, empty soda cans, and in the midst of it all, Roy, feeling – and probably looking – like a zombie after two straight nights with no sleep.

“Can’t sleep,” said Roy. “You?”

“Same. Can I have some trail mix?”

“Knock yourself out.”

Jason reached into the bag and took out a handful of trail mix, then rummaged around in the fridge and cracked open a cold Diet Coke. He sat down next to Roy at the kitchen counter and the two of them ate and drank in silence for several minutes, neither feeling particularly compelled to speak, comfortable in each other’s presence.

Jason was the one to break the spell between them when he asked, “Is it anxiety?”

Roy could have said yes. It would have even (partially) been true. But under the weight of his exhaustion, telling partial truths felt like an unnecessary hurdle. And so he said, “Loneliness, actually.” Then, when Jason gave him an odd look, a silent request for clarification, he explained, “My bed is comfortable as shit, but I think it might be too big for one person.”

Jason raised his eyebrows. He didn’t look put off by this answer, simply caught off guard. “Yeah?”

Roy took a swig of Coke Zero. “Mhm.”

Another pause, this one not quite as long as the first, and punctuated by prolonged eye contact between the two of them. Jason’s green eyes shone in the dim light. He looked pensive. He finally responded, “You know, you were right about my bed. It sucks. Yours is so much more comfortable.” He paused again, briefly, then added, “And if you’re lonely in yours… maybe you should find someone to share it with.”

Roy unsuccessfully fought back a smile. “Well, I do have a husband,” he said, “Who’s always welcome in my bed. I actually sleep better when he’s with me.”

Jason smiled back, tentatively. “So does he.”

Chapter Text

“I’ve got him.”

Roy and Jason had just returned from patrol. Roy was sweating like a pig in his Arsenal suit, and he eagerly peeled it off, stripping down to his undershirt and leggings. It was September, but outside it still felt like July. The night brought slightly cooler temperatures and provided a reprieve from the relentless onslaught of the sun, but that hardly made a difference when Roy was running around fighting crime all night.

Compared to Roy’s sweaty exhaustion, Jason was practically bouncing with the excitement of a breakthrough. “I know where he is,” he added, practically grinning. Roy didn’t ask who he was referring to. Jason had been attempting to track down Sergey Kevorkov for weeks now. He’d been on the brink of giving up and declaring the case cold, and he was well overdue for a break in the case.

“How did you find him?” Roy asked.

Jason’s grin widened. “He finally contacted his ex-girlfriend.”

“The one whose apartment you broke into?”

“The very same.”

Roy recalled what Jason had told him of this particular ex-girlfriend. He couldn’t remember her name. Something that started with an A. Amanda? Alexa?

Alicia. It was Alicia.

That wasn’t all Roy remembered about her, though. “Didn’t she also get arrested?”

“She did,” Jason confirmed.

The pieces were starting to come together now. It was a classic criminal error: risking it all just to contact their significant other. Love – or lust – made people do stupid shit. Like conduct elaborate ten-step plans to get the object of their desire to fall in love with them, for example.

“So he contacted her in jail?” Roy surmised.

“Yep. He bribed a guard to give her a coded message, basically telling her how to find him if she gets out.”

“‘If’ she gets out? He’s not gonna help her?”

“How do you think I was able to get this information?” Jason winked and held up a scrap of paper with a message written on it in Cyrillic that translated to utter nonsense. “She’s pissed. Turned on him instantly.”

“‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,’” Roy quoted. “Nice strategy.”

“Wish I could take credit for it,” Jason said. “If I had a dollar for every time Bruce caught the Joker because Harley turned on him, I wouldn’t have had to marry you to afford health insurance.”

“Did she break the code for you too, then?” Roy had been attempting to decipher it as they spoke, to no avail.

“Of course.”

“Where did she say you could find him, then?”

“He’s in Gotham.”

Roy shook his head in exasperation. He’d finished undressing, and he couldn’t ignore the way Jason’s gaze kept not-so-surreptitiously flicking over his body in his skin-tight, sweat-soaked undergarments. What Roy chose to take from this was that even in the midst of a breakthrough, Jason couldn’t ignore his attraction to Roy. That was a good sign.

Roy was in the process of finding a new therapist, and he’d resolved to make admitting his feelings to Jason his first therapy “project.” Without the right push, Roy knew he could keep his feelings inside forever – he could be quite the stubborn son of a bitch when he wanted – but he knew that wasn’t healthy. It also wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to come clean, he just didn’t know how to do that, or even seriously think about it, without having a full-blown anxiety attack.

In the meantime, Roy had learned to appreciate the little moments between him and Jason. Like this one: listening to Jason talk about a case while he tried not to stare at Roy’s dick. Good times.

“Where else would a criminal on the run go in this country but the national capital of crime?” Roy continued, playfully derogatory of Jason’s hometown.

Jason didn’t fight him on his statement. It was accurate, after all. “Not to mention it’s the perfect place to start up his arms trafficking operation. Plenty of demand for weapons in Gotham.”

“Are you going after him?” Roy asked. “Or are you gonna turn your intel over to your family?” He was pretty sure he knew the answer.

“Oh, I’m going after him alright,” Jason announced, confirming Roy’s suspicions. “This one’s personal.” He held up his scarred hand as evidence. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“You want me to come with you?”

“I don’t want a repeat of last time,” Jason admitted. “So I’m planning to go after Sergey with backup. That’s either gonna be you or one of my siblings. Do you think you can get a babysitter for Lian by tonight?”

“Tonight?” Roy repeated. That was going to be difficult.

“I need to follow this trail before it turns cold,” Jason said.

Roy considered it. There was really only one answer he could give. He couldn’t drop everything and leave Lian with a random stranger, and her usual babysitter had gently let Roy go as a client when he’d stopped using her services regularly after Jason moved to New York. As much as he wanted to join Jason in Gotham, it wouldn’t be responsible.

“It’s short notice,” he pointed out. “And there’s no guarantee we'll find Sergey in one night. I can’t leave Lian for an indeterminate amount of time.”

“That’s what I figured,” Jason said, sounding only a little disappointed.

“Keep me updated, though,” Roy requested. “I’ll leave my comms channel open.”

“You got it.”

Jason left for Gotham that evening, after Roy got home from work and their little family of three had dinner together.

“I gotta leave now if I want to make it to Gotham by nightfall,” Jason said, standing up from the dinner table and collecting everyone’s dirty dishes to rinse in the sink.

Roy stood up in response. “Let me take care of the dishes. You get on the road.” He motioned for Lian to come join them. “Say goodbye, princess.”

Lian ran up to Jason and threw her arms around him; he picked her up so she could kiss him on the cheek. “Goodbye, Jay,” she said. “When will you come back?”

“Hopefully tomorrow,” Jason told her. “If not, I’ll call your Dad and tell him when I’ll be back.”

“Come back soon,” Lian instructed, wearing a serious expression. She was not happy about the prospect of Jason being gone for too long.

“I will,” Jason said. “I promise.” He kissed her on the forehead and set her down. “I love you. Be good for your dad.”

“I love you too, Jay.”

Roy saw Jason out the front door. The sun was starting to set, the light dimming around them. Roy ran a hand through his hair. Jason jangled the keys to his motorcycle. Neither of them said anything right away. These quiet moments between the two of them had started taking on a different tone more recently, and Roy savored them that much more because of it. He didn’t want to let them go.

But he knew he had to. They couldn’t stay out here like this forever. Jason really did have to go if he wanted to make it to Gotham at a reasonable hour.

Roy genuinely wished he was going with Jason, but of course, he’d made the right choice staying with Lian. No matter how much Roy loved Jason, Lian would always be his first priority, and Jason would never want it any other way.

So Roy said, “Be safe out there.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Jason replied casually. “There’s nothing Gotham can throw at me that it hasn’t already.”

Roy raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Don’t say that. You’ll jinx it.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jason insisted. “If everything goes well, you’ll see me in the morning. Lian won’t even have to stay after school.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Roy said. “This guy already got a hit on you once, and he was only armed with a vodka bottle. Don’t underestimate him.”

“I won’t. That’s why I’m bringing backup. Cass will be with me. She’s the best fighter in the family, hands down.”

Roy accepted this. He’d heard of Cass’ reputation. “Alright,” he said. “Good luck.”

Jason smiled and gave Roy a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Thanks. You too.”

“With what?”

“Lian.”

Roy rolled his eyes. “I think I can handle my own daughter.”

Jason persisted. “If she gives you any trouble, give me a call.”

“You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Roy playfully smacked Jason’s arm. “Get outta here.”

“Yeah, yeah, I love you too,” Jason joked, the words hitting like arrows to the heart.

Jason revved up his motorcycle, peeling out of the driveway and speeding off down the street. Roy watched him go, and when Jason’s tail lights finally disappeared, he turned and went back inside.

“Dad, why is Jay leaving?” Lian asked. She hadn’t left the kitchen table. Roy came and stood behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders. She tilted her head to look at him. He tucked a stray strand of hair that had come loose from her ponytail behind her ear.

“He has work to do in Gotham,” Roy explained. “That’s why he’s not sure when he’ll be back. He’s not sure how long the work will take. But it shouldn’t take long. I bet he’ll be back before the weekend.” It was only Tuesday, so Roy hoped this was a safe bet. If Jason was gone any longer than that, Roy would have to think twice about joining him. Maybe he could drop Lian off with Dick in Blüdhaven on the way down.

He wouldn’t think about that yet. Jason had only just left; there was no need for contingency plans already.

After putting Lian to bed, Roy went out for patrol, keeping an ear out for any communication from Jason. He knew he wouldn’t be able to focus tonight, with Jason in Gotham, going after a provably dangerous criminal. It didn’t matter that Roy trusted Jason’s skill and strength as a vigilante and a fighter. It didn’t matter that Jason had faced far worse odds before and come out (relatively) unscathed. Roy worried nonetheless.

An hour in with no word, he pinged Jason: “Red Hood, what’s your status?”

Jason’s voice came through, clear as day: “The night’s barely started. We haven’t even found him yet.”

“Keep me updated,” Roy reminded him.

“I will.”

Jason was true to his word. Around one in the morning, Roy got an update that they’d scoped out Sergey’s hiding place and found a way to sneak in. “Be careful,” Roy told him.

Roy could hear Jason’s eye roll. “You’re being paranoid.”

Then, a few minutes later: “I need radio silence from here on out,” Jason whispered. “We’re moving in.”

Roy did as he was told, staying off comms as minutes turned to an hour. He hadn’t apprehended a single criminal all night. He was way off his game. He couldn’t help it. As time passed, his anxiety grew until it had consumed him; he debated calling it an early night. He was useless out here tonight.

He nearly jumped when he heard something in his ear again; not Jason’s voice this time, but the sound of his breathing, heavy and fast.

Roy paused mid-rooftop, waiting for Jason to say something. When no other sound came, he said into the earpiece, “Red Hood? Is that you?” A brief pause, waiting. Then, when the silence stretched on, “Come in, Red Hood.”

Nothing. Nothing but the sound of more heavy breathing.

“Red Hood?” An even longer pause. In the seconds that passed, Roy imagined a thousand different scenarios. Every different possible way someone could die or be seriously injured on a mission to take down one of Russia’s most notorious kingpins.

“This isn’t fucking funny,” Roy said, hysteria climbing in his chest, his tone frantic. “Answer me,” he demanded.

Their connection cut off.

Roy beelined for home. He didn’t know what he planned to do; it was a three hour drive to Gotham at the best of times, usually closer to four. If Jason was in mortal danger, there was no way Roy would make it there in time to save him.

Jason wasn’t answering his comm. Roy didn’t have any way to contact Cass, either. There was only one person anywhere near Jason’s location that he could make contact with. In his desperation, Roy did just that.

“Nightwing here,” Dick’s voice answered as Roy hailed him.

“This is Arsenal,” Roy told him, then cut straight to the chase. He felt like he was racing against the clock. “Red Hood’s in Gotham chasing down that Russian arms dealer who escaped from jail. Sergey Kevorkov. The one who fucked up his hand.”

“I know the one,” Dick replied. He already sounded concerned. He knew there were only a few reasons Roy would contact him at night like this.

“He told me he and Batgirl, or… Black Bat, or Orphan, whatever the fuck her call sign is now; they moved in on Sergey an hour ago. I haven’t heard from him since. And now I can’t reach him at all.”

“Shit,” Dick said, concern escalating to panic. “Have you tried contacting her?”

“I can’t,” Roy said. “You and Red Hood are the only Bats I’m linked to.”

“I’ll put you in contact with her,” Dick promised. “Hold tight.”

“Hurry.”

“Batgirl here.”

Cass sounded out of breath, reminiscent of the heavy breathing Roy had heard from Jason earlier. The sound of wind rushing past her ear indicated she was on the move.

“Where’s Red Hood?” Roy demanded. He held out hope there had been some sort of miscommunication or malfunction, that the worst hadn’t happened, that nothing had happened.

Then, the two words Roy had been dreading: “He’s down.” Followed by, “It was a trap.”

For several seconds, Roy couldn’t hear or feel anything but the pounding of his heart in his chest. He’s down. That could mean more than one thing. It didn’t necessarily mean…

“What’s Red Hood’s condition?” Roy asked, unwilling to live one moment longer in a world where Jason could be anything but alive.

“He’s bleeding but, um, conscious,” Cass told him, stuttering in her effort to get the words out in such a hurry amid everything else that must have been going on where she was. “He’s… in shock. He was shot. I’m taking him to the hospital.”

He was shot. That could mean multiple things too. “Shot where?” Shot in the foot was very different from shot in the head.

“In the leg,” Cass told him. “The thigh. Sergey hit between his, um, body armor.”

Shot in the leg. “It didn’t hit an artery, did it?”

“Doesn’t seem like it.” Thank God. “I need to go,” Cass added abruptly. “We’re almost to the hospital.”

“You need to get him out of his armor and into civilian clothes,” Roy reminded her, probably unnecessarily. “His secret identity…”

“I know,” Cass said. “I will.”

“Don’t forget, his legal name is… is Jason Harper.” Roy’s voice cracked with emotion.

“I know.”

Roy was almost home. He knew where he needed to go after that. Goddamn if Roy wasn’t going to be with his husband after he’d just been shot.

“Give them my contact information at the hospital,” he instructed Cass. “You can get it from Nightwing. I’m… I’m coming down there. I’ll be down there in… three or four hours. Something like that.”

“Okay,” Cass said, “But I really have to go.”

“Call me if anything happens.”

“I will.”

Roy burst through the front door, already stripping out of his Arsenal suit, leaving pieces of it scattered across the living room floor. He ran upstairs to the master bedroom – the room he shared with Jason, the room Jason was currently absent from – and changed into clean clothes, not bothering to shower. There wasn’t time.

He was running on autopilot. If he stopped, he didn’t know if he’d be able to start again. Jason had been shot, and he needed to get to Gotham to be with him in the hospital. That was all that mattered. That was all he knew.

He went across the hall, not bothering to knock on Lian’s door, waking her up by turning on the light overhead. She rubbed her eyes, then opened them, then propped herself up on her elbows, confused.

“Lian, sweetie, you need to get up,” Roy said, as gently as he could manage. Try as he might, he couldn’t quell the panic in his voice. He knew Lian could tell something was wrong. The combination of Roy’s frantic behavior and waking her up in the middle of the night were dead giveaways.

Lian had been woken up frantically in the middle of the night before, but it had been a long time since then. Roy took pride in that, in the fact that his vigilante work so rarely affected his child. But it couldn’t always be avoided.

“Dad?” Lian said, confused but cooperating, pushing the covers back and getting out of bed. “It’s not morning.”

Roy ran a comforting hand through her hair and kissed her on the forehead. He remembered that Jason had been the last person to kiss her there, and he felt a twinge of panic again. Every thought in his head led to Jason, which led to Jason’s current condition, which fueled the fire of fear in Roy’s heart.

“I know, princess,” Roy told Lian gently. “We have to visit Jay in Gotham, though. Let’s put some clothes on.”

Lian dutifully took off her pajamas, exchanging them for a t-shirt and comfortable cotton leggings. “What happened?” she asked. Of course she knew something was up.

“Jay got hurt,” Roy told her vaguely, trying not to infect her with his panic. “He’s gonna be okay. But we need to be there for him.”

Roy led Lian downstairs to the kitchen and instructed her to grab a snack for the drive. She picked out a bag of goldfish, a pack of fruit snacks, and a juice box. Then Roy ushered her out the door and into the car.

He sped the whole way out of New York and onto the interstate. There was next to no traffic this time of night, which was a blessing. As they reached New Jersey, Roy looked in the rearview mirror and saw that Lian had fallen asleep in the backseat. He took this as a sign that at least he hadn’t worried her too much.

Roy never would have been able to sleep at a time like this. His anxiety was pulling him in a million different directions. What if Jason’s condition worsened? What if the bullet had hit an artery? What if the worst happened? How would Roy explain it to Lian? How would he go on? How would he live with himself knowing he’d kept his feelings for Jason in the dark, for no good reason, simply out of fear of vulnerability?

Roy prayed to all the gods he didn’t believe in, bargained with whatever force in the universe had the power over life and death. He promised himself, if Jason made a full recovery, the first thing he would do was confess his feelings. No matter what happened, Roy could not continue on like this, living in fear, denying both himself and Jason the opportunity to take their relationship to the next level. They deserved the chance to at least try.

They made the trip in just over three hours; record time. They didn’t even run into traffic on the bridge into Gotham. Roy pulled into the parking lot at Gotham General Hospital. Before doing anything else, he took a deep, shaky breath, hands still clutching the steering wheel.

He’d received three updates from Cass on the drive down. First, Cass had let him know that she and Jason had arrived at the ER. Not long after that, she’d told him that Jason had been transferred to the OR for surgery. And then, a little over half an hour later, she’d informed Roy that the surgery had been a success.

Roy hadn’t heard anything after that. He hadn’t particularly expected to. The surgery was a success; that was good news. It meant Jason was in recovery. He would be fine. Those were the four words Roy repeated to himself, over and over, like a mantra: Jason will be fine.

Once he felt ready, Roy turned in his seat to place a hand on Lian’s leg. She stirred, blinking her eyes open in the dark.

“Lian, princess, wake up,” Roy said softly. “We made it to Gotham. We’re at the hospital. It’s time to go see Jay.”

Lian sat up amid the empty wrappers of her snacks. Roy helped her out of the car and carried her into the emergency room.

Once inside, Roy checked in at the front desk. “My husband is here,” he explained to the hospital receptionist. “He was shot.”

“Name?” the receptionist asked.

“His name is Jason Harper,” Roy said. “Mine is Roy. Harper,” he added, for clarity.

“Jason Harper…” The receptionist frowned at her computer screen. “He’s in good condition. He’s been transferred out of the OR. His surgery had no complications. A nurse will come get you shortly if you’d like to see him.”

“Yes, please. Thank you.”

Roy stepped away from the front desk to let the next person in line take their turn. In his arms, Lian asked, “Where’s Jay?”

Roy looked down at her, feeling a sense of relief for the first time all night. Jason was in good condition. His surgery had no complications. Jason will be fine. “The doctors stitched him up,” he explained to Lian, putting things in eight-year-old terms. “He’s gonna be okay, just like I promised. They probably want him to stay in the hospital for a night, though, before he’s ready to go home with us.”

Lian nodded, but she wasn’t looking at Roy anymore, her gaze instead fixed across the room. She pointed. “Is that Dick?”

Roy looked where Lian was pointing. Sure enough, sitting in the corner of the waiting room, wearing a nondescript hoodie and sweatpants, was none other than Dick Grayson. Cass, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.

Dick caught Roy’s gaze and his face lit up with recognition; he waved them over.

“How long have you been here?” Roy asked, taking the seat next to Dick, positioning Lian in his lap. He knew if Lian wanted to sit in her own chair, she would, but Roy thought she would benefit from the closeness during such an uncertain time. Lending credence to this theory, Lian made no move to separate herself from her father.

“I left as soon as Cass called,” Dick explained. “I got here an hour and a half ago. Bruce wanted to come, but he’s too conspicuous. He knew people would recognize him.”

Roy nodded, understanding. It would only make the situation worse to have people crowding around famous former billionaire Bruce Wayne while they were waiting for Jason to recover from a gunshot wound. People would also inevitably ask questions about why Bruce Wayne had come to the hospital in the first place, and God forbid they connected the dots between Bruce and Jason and realized Jason Harper née inconspicuous-fake-surname was, in actuality, Jason Todd, which would only raise more questions.

“The receptionist said the surgery was a success,” Roy remarked.

“Oh, good,” Dick replied, sounding relieved. “She wouldn’t tell me anything. Legally, I’m not related to Jason, so I had to tell her we were friends, and she wouldn’t disclose anything to someone who wasn’t a spouse or relative. Did she say anything else?”

“He’s in good condition. There were no complications. They’ll let me back soon.”

“Is he conscious?”

“They didn’t say.” Roy looked around and asked, “Where’s Cass?”

“Oh, she just went to get coffee,” Dick said. “She’ll be back.”

Roy nodded. He lowered his voice, checked to make sure no one (other than Lian) was within earshot, and asked, “What happened to Sergey?”

Dick answered in a whisper, “Jason shot him. Non-fatally, but bad enough that he couldn’t get away. Cass called the GCPD to take him in. We’ve been getting updates from Barbara on that.”

“Do we know if the police have him yet?”

“They’ve got him, yeah. Maximum security.”

“Good. He needs it.”

Before long, a nurse came out into the waiting room and called Roy’s name. After asking Dick to keep an eye on Lian and promising Lian he would be right back, Roy followed the nurse down the hall to a recovery room.

The first bed in the room was occupied by a young woman with a cast on her arm watching trashy reality TV loudly on her phone. Jason was in the second bed, lying back with his eyes closed, not sleeping but resting.

By the time Roy had stepped past the curtain separating Jason from the reality TV girl, the nurse had already gone. It was a busy night in Gotham General Hospital, it seemed. Roy imagined every night was probably a busy night in Gotham General Hospital.

Roy sat down in the chair next to Jason’s bed. Seeming to sense his presence, Jason opened his eyes and turned to face Roy, a slight smile gracing his features.

On an impulse, Roy reached out and took Jason’s hand. Jason didn’t pull away. Roy returned his smile.

“How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a bus.” Jason squeezed Roy’s hand, as if reaffirming that, even though he felt like shit, he was alive. That was something they could both be grateful for.

“I should have come with you,” Roy said. “I’m sorry.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Oh, shut up. You couldn’t leave Lian. We both know that.”

“I could’ve figured something out.” That was what Roy had been telling himself the whole way up here. He should have stopped this. He could have stopped this. He hadn’t even tried to find someone to watch Lian so he could go with Jason. He’d just let Jason go at it alone, against a man who’d already seriously injured him once.

Jason, though, was having none of this. “Not on such short notice,” he argued. And then, tugging on Roy’s hand to force him to draw nearer and lowering his voice to a serious tone, he added, “Hey. This is not your fault. There is no reasonable way you can blame yourself.”

“Tell that to my brain.”

“Your brain is an asshole. We know this.”

Roy chuckled. Jason was, of course, correct. Roy’s brain was an asshole, and it was wrong about this. What happened to Jason wasn’t Roy’s fault. Roy could not be everywhere all at once. He had to set priorities, and Lian always had to be at the top of that list, no matter what anyone else needed from him. He’d done the right thing.

“When did you get down here?” Jason asked, changing the subject.

“Just now.”

“Where’s Lian?”

“I brought her with me. She’s with Dick in the waiting room.”

Jason looked surprised by that. “Dick is here?”

“Yeah, dipshit,” Roy said with a fond smirk. “He’s worried about you. You’re his little brother. Apparently Bruce wanted to be here too, but he thought it’d cause too much of a scene if Bruce Wayne showed up at the emergency room.”

“Does everybody know I’m okay?” Jason asked.

“They do now,” Roy assured him. “And I’ll give them all the details when I go back out there. So tell me what happened?”

“Sergey shot me in the leg.” Jason shrugged like it was no big deal. No big deal, just a gunshot wound. No big deal, just assault with a deadly weapon. “I shot him back. Do you know if he got away?”

“Dick says the GCPD have him.”

Jason nodded. “Good. Serves him right. I’m gonna be in physical therapy for so long because of that motherfucker. Did they tell you how long it’ll be before I’m back on my feet?”

“They haven’t told me anything, other than that your surgery was a success and had no complications,” Roy informed him. “I also imagine you’ll have to make a statement to the police soon, now that you’re in stable condition. I’m sure hospital staff have already reported the incident.” By law, they had to report every gunshot wound they treated.

Jason, of course, already knew this. “Yeah, I figured,” he said. “I came up with a story already. There’s no way the police will seriously investigate this; gunshot wounds are a dime a dozen in this city.”

That was a terrifying thought. “Speaking of gunshot wounds,” Roy said, “Can I ask you something?” There was just one piece of all this that wasn’t making sense to Roy.

“Yeah, anything.”

“Why didn’t you kill him? It’s like you said, you have a personal vendetta against this guy. A few years ago, you’d have killed him the first time he pissed you off. And until, I assume, pretty recently, I would’ve thought you’d kill him the second time for sure.”

“Who’s to say I didn’t try to kill him?” Jason said. “My aim’s not what it used to be.”

Roy wasn’t accepting this answer. “Your aim is better than you think it is. If you wanted Sergey dead, he would be.”

Jason sighed, gave in, and told what sounded like the truth. “I’ll still kill a bitch if I have to, but I think Bruce is right that people like us shouldn’t go around killing people just because they pissed us off. It’s too much power. What’s that saying Wonder Woman has? ‘Don’t kill if you can wound.’”

“I’m pretty sure that saying ends with, ‘Don’t raise your hand at all until you’ve first extended it,’” Roy pointed out.

Jason smirked. “Yeah, well, nobody’s perfect.”

Chapter Text

By the time Roy returned to the waiting room, Cass was back, having brought coffee for herself, Dick, and, surprisingly, Roy.

“How did you know I’d be here?” he asked.

She shrugged. “You said you were coming.”

Roy had said that, hadn’t he? His mind was all over the place tonight—or this morning, he supposed, glancing at the clock on the wall. Still, even if she had known he was coming, it was a happy coincidence that Cass had arrived with coffee just in time for Roy to enjoy it. He took the cup gratefully.

Roy was exhausted. His adrenaline had faded now that he’d seen for himself that Jason was alive and in one piece. He was still frazzled, still irrationally anxious that something terrible would happen – something even more terrible than Jason getting shot, which was one terrible thing that had already happened – and trying not to think about how expensive this hospital visit was going to be and how long Jason’s recovery process would be. He could think about those things after he’d brought Jason and Lian home and everyone had gotten some sleep. Still, the thoughts scratched at the walls of his mind, begging to be let in so they could work him into a panic spiral over all the things he couldn’t control.

Turning his attention away from himself and his racing thoughts, Roy could tell he wasn’t the only one feeling the effects of a long and traumatic night. Dick’s under eyes were looking particularly gray, and Cass was bouncing from side to side to keep herself awake and alert. Lian, meanwhile, had dozed off in Dick’s lap.

“How is Jason?” Cass asked.

“He’s alright,” Roy told her. “He’s stable. He has to make a statement to the police and then they’re planning to let him go.”

“That soon?” Dick remarked.

“I get the feeling they’ve got more patients than beds in this place,” Roy said. He wasn’t happy about it – if it was up to him, he’d want Jason to stay in the hospital as long as possible to make sure he was stable – but he supposed he couldn’t expect that from a place as busy as Gotham General. Not to mention, more time in the hospital meant more money, and who knew how much of this Roy’s insurance would cover? Roy had already resolved to cover the copay himself; he wasn’t going to put that additional stress on Jason when he was already facing the daunting task of recovering from a bullet wound.

“Thank you, by the way, for making sure he got here safely,” Roy added, addressing Cass.

“Of course,” she replied.

“Sorry I kind of freaked out earlier.”

Cass smiled. “You freaked out a normal amount,” she assured Roy, which made him feel a bit better.

“I freaked out so much I came all the way from Blüdhaven,” Dick pointed out. “Cass is right; you’re good.” Dick looked down at the sleeping Lian in his lap. “Are you, Jason, and Lian staying in the city after he’s discharged,” he asked, “Or are you going home?”

“I’ll probably take everyone home,” Roy said. “Jason can rest up there, and if there are any complications, there’s an urgent care and multiple hospitals near us where I could take him in an emergency.”

“In that case,” Dick said, “Can I borrow you for a minute? There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about, and who knows how long it’ll be before we see each other again. You’ll be taking care of Jason for a while, I imagine.”

Roy’s eyebrows drew together. He wasn’t sure what Dick could need to talk to him so urgently, but he had a funny feeling it wasn’t about Jason’s injury. He searched Dick’s body language for clues, but Dick was carefully controlling his facial expression, giving nothing away. This, of course, only made Roy more suspicious.

“Cass, will you watch Lian for me for a minute?” Roy asked. Cass nodded, and Dick carefully lifted Lian off of his lap and into Cass’. She stirred slightly but didn’t open her eyes, making an unintelligible noise that might’ve been her talking in her sleep or might’ve just been a snore.

Roy followed Dick to an unoccupied corner of the waiting room. He cut straight to the chase. “What is this about?”

Dick spoke in a low voice, leaning in close to keep things confidential. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Jason.”

“What about Jason?” Roy narrowed his eyes.

“I talked to your sister.”

It took Roy a moment to process this statement. What could Dick have possibly talked to Mia about that was related to Jason? And then, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, Roy remembered: Mia was one of only two people in the world who knew about Roy’s ten-step plan.

“You motherfucker,” Roy growled. How on earth had Dick known to talk to Mia?

As if answering Roy’s unspoken question, Dick told him, “A detective is only as good as his sources.” To his credit, he seemed to be doing his best not to come across as smug. He was failing, but at least he was trying.

“Sometimes I hate being friends with you,” Roy said, not meaning it in the slightest.

“I’m not doing this to show off or prove a point,” Dick explained. “I’m trying to help you.” This was, of course, a lie. Well, partially. Dick was, most likely, mostly trying to help Roy, but he was also definitely showing off and proving a point, because he was always showing off and proving a point. It wasn’t his fault; it was in his nature. He couldn’t turn it off. It had to be the performer in him, Roy assumed.

“I don’t need help. I have everything under control,” Roy said, choosing not to call Dick on his half-truth. It didn’t really matter in the larger context of the conversation. This was about Roy and Jason, not about Dick.

“As part of your elaborate plan, right?” Dick said, definitively proving that he had, in fact, spoken to Mia. “Which step are you on currently? And which step involves you finally telling Jason how you feel?”

Now Dick was being obnoxious on purpose. “None of your business,” Roy said firmly.

Dick didn’t take offense, letting it slide off his back. “If you’re worried what will happen if you tell him, you shouldn’t be,” he said instead. “He feels the same way.”

This gave Roy pause. “How do you know that?” he demanded.

“The same way you do,” Dick answered easily. Like knowing Jason was in love with Roy was as simple as knowing the sky was blue. Roy wished he had that confidence. Maybe he could, if he was an objective third-party observer like Dick was, but that wasn’t Roy’s situation. He was very much in the middle of this mess, and there was no way he could be objective about it. The stakes were too high.

“And if you’re wrong?” Roy asked. “If he doesn’t?”

“I’m not wrong. He does,” Dick reiterated. “That’s just your self-doubt talking.”

Roy knew that. He knew everything Dick was telling him. He knew Jason had feelings for him. The proof was in Jason’s actions: the way he behaved around Roy, sharing a bed with him, getting flustered when Roy flirted with him, being such a devoted stepparent to Lian, and so much more. There was a mountain of evidence that Jason was as in love with Roy as Roy was with him. But Roy’s anxiety was loud as fuck in his ear telling him the opposite, telling him not to believe his own five senses, telling him his logic was wrong.

The fact that Dick agreed with Roy’s assessment, though, was actually somewhat helpful. If Dick truly believed Jason had feelings for Roy, that meant something. It had to. After all, there were few people in the world who were better detectives than Dick Grayson.

“Listen,” Dick continued, speaking over Roy’s conflicting thoughts, “I get how you feel. Believe me, I do. I’ve denied myself things I wanted out of fear and doubt and anxiety. I think everyone has. But you’re one of my best friends, and Jason is my little brother. Of course I want both of you to be happy. I’m not delusional; I know a pep talk from me, of all people, isn’t going to change your mind. But if I can put in my vote, I think you should go for it. I think it’ll work out. In fact, I know it will.”

Roy sighed. He hadn’t forgotten the bargain he’d made with the universe: That if Jason made it out of this alive, and made a full recovery, Roy would confess his feelings to him.

Roy believed in a higher power in only the most agnostic sense of the word, in the sense that he’d seen and done so much crazy shit that he couldn’t rule out the possibility that there was some cosmic force behind all this, that it wasn’t all random chaos. Whether that higher power could hear Roy’s pathetic mortal pleas, and could actually be bargained with, was impossible to know. So it wasn’t for that reason that Roy took his promise to the universe seriously.

He did, however, take it seriously as a promise he’d made to himself. After everything Roy and Jason had been through together – tonight being the absolute cherry on top – there was no way Roy could keep going on the way he was, hiding his feelings, pretending this marriage was based only on friendship and convenience. Above all, Roy couldn’t handle the thought that something more serious than a gunshot wound to the leg – something more permanent – could happen to Jason before Roy could tell him the truth. Roy could lose Jason before he’d ever truly had him. That was unacceptable.

Dick was right. Roy had to tell Jason. And he had to do it soon.

And so Roy said, “That’s the thing, though. I don’t need anyone to change my mind. I’ve made it up already.”

“And what have you decided?”

Roy took a deep breath. “I’m going to tell him. I don’t know how. I don’t know when. But soon.”

“Really?” Dick looked pleasantly surprised.

“Really.”

“Good.”

Presumably after selling the police an incredibly fake story of how he’d gotten shot – the police in Gotham were just as overworked as the hospital staff, and Roy highly doubted they’d follow up on Jason’s story – Jason was finally discharged, rolled out in a wheelchair by a nurse, and issued a pair of crutches (another thing Roy was sure they’d be billed for).

Dick and Cass were finally able to see Jason, showering him with their love and concern, and then Lian woke up from her nap and fired question after question at Jason, wanting to know everything about how he’d been injured, whether he would recover, how he would recover, what it was like to be in the hospital, and everything else she could think of. Jason struggled to give age-appropriate answers to these questions before Roy interrupted to make Lian say goodbye to her aunt and uncle.

“I still can’t believe Dick came all the way here. And I can’t believe Cass waited all night for me to get discharged,” Jason mused after Dick and Cass left, as Roy led him and Lian out to his car in the parking lot.

“It’s almost like your family loves you,” Roy deadpanned, loading Jason’s crutches into the car and helping Jason into the passenger seat.

“Let’s not go jumping to crazy conclusions,” Jason retorted. Roy rolled his eyes. At least Jason’s sense of humor was still intact. It would take more than a mere flesh wound to shatter that.

It was past dawn by the time they set off, the sky a pale overcast gray, typical Gotham weather. The drive back to Queens was riddled with morning traffic, adding a full hour and a half to the Harpers’ travel time. Jason leaned his seat all the way back and elevated his injured leg, and Roy allowed him this one-time exception to his usual “no feet on the dashboard” rule, despite Lian’s protests that this was unfair and she should also get to put her feet up in the car.

On the way home, Roy swung by Lian’s school to pick up her homework for the day from her teacher so she wouldn’t fall behind. By the time Roy pulled into their driveway, Lian was dozing off again in the backseat, having thoroughly interrogated Jason some more on all the details of his injury, recovery, and time at the hospital. Jason was looking pretty tired himself, his eyelids drooping as he stared out the passenger window at the passing streets.

Roy carried Lian to bed, then returned to help Jason out of the car, finding that he’d made his way out on his own and was already standing in the kitchen, leaning on his crutches.

“Time for bed,” Roy announced, holding out an arm to usher Jason upstairs. They were both dead on their feet, exhausted down to their bones. Roy hoped his anxiety would actually let him sleep. He knew he stood a pretty good chance as long as Jason was in bed with him, his comforting presence an arm’s length away.

“Hold on,” Jason said. “Can you and I talk first?”

“We can talk in bed,” Roy insisted, ignoring the eye roll this earned him from Jason. “Come on. You really should be lying down.”

“Fine.” Jason allowed himself to be led, slowly, upstairs and into bed. Roy elevated his leg under a couple of pillows and then climbed into bed next to him.

“Okay,” he said, “What did you want to talk about?”

“I know you probably don’t want to, but we gotta talk about money,” Jason replied matter-of-factly.

Roy raised an eyebrow. This wasn’t what he’d expected. “You want to talk about money now? You just got shot.”

“Please, it’s not like I’m traumatized,” Jason said. “At worst, I’m annoyed by how long I know my leg is going to take to heal. It’ll be months before I can patrol again.” He pointed a finger at Roy. “Because I know you won’t let me out of here until I’m fully healed.”

“Of course I won’t,” Roy agreed. “I don’t even want you going back to work until the end of the month, at the earliest.”

“It’s my left leg that’s injured. I can still drive,” Jason argued. When Roy didn’t budge, he added, “And how do you expect me to make money this month if I can’t work?”

“I make enough to cover all our bills for a month,” Roy said. “You have to remember, I was supporting myself and Lian on just my salary for years before you moved in. And you’re really not that expensive, especially if you’ll be staying home all day every day.”

“What about the bill for my hospital visit?” Jason countered. “I know for a fact your insurance won’t cover that whole thing.”

“I’ll set up a payment plan.”

Jason shook his head. “Absolutely not. It’s my injury. I’ll set up a payment plan.”

“It doesn’t make sense for you to pay the whole thing,” Roy insisted.

“Why not?”

“We’re married.”

“If it doesn’t make sense for me to pay the whole thing, it doesn’t make sense for you to either.”

As much as Roy hated to admit it, there was a logic to Jason’s argument. So he offered a compromise, “Fine. Then we’ll split it.”

“You already cover the bulk of the household expenses,” Jason pointed out. “Don’t think I don’t know that. You pay twice as much in rent, you cover all of Lian’s expenses—”

“Lian is my daughter,” Roy interrupted.

“She’s my stepdaughter,” Jason snapped back.

“You pay for all of our groceries,” Roy offered.

“That’s just one thing.” Jason shook his head in exasperation.

“Groceries are fucking expensive these days,” Roy pointed out.

Jason ignored him. “Come on, I know things have gotta be tight for you, especially after back-to-school shopping. Don’t pretend you’re Mr. Moneybags.”

“I’m not,” Roy said. “But I do have a steady income and a solid emergency fund. I should cover the bulk of the expenses. And that includes your hospital bill.”

Jason glared at Roy. Roy met his gaze, not backing down.

Jason huffed out a sigh. “We can split the bill. Fifty-fifty. That’s the farthest I’ll go.”

Roy knew Jason meant it, so he took the deal. “Fifty-fifty,” he said. He reached over and turned off their bedside lamp. “Now, get some rest.”

Roy tucked himself into bed next to Jason and proceeded to toss and turn for hours. He was stressed about money after his and Jason’s conversation. He was stressed about Jason’s healing and whether there would be any complications. All the things he’d told himself at the hospital that he would think about later, after he got some sleep, were looming large in his mind, not allowing him to get any sleep.

Every time he closed his eyes, he was taken back to those terrifying moments mere hours ago when he knew something bad had happened to Jason, but he didn’t know what. When, in his mind, Jason was dead… again. He kept having to turn over, open his eyes, and visually make sure Jason was still in bed with him.

The umpteenth time Roy did this, he found himself face-to-face with Jason, who was staring straight at him, also wide awake.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jason said. “I can’t with this leg.”

“How did you know—?” Roy began, but Jason cut him off.

“I know you,” he said. “Anxiety, right?”

Roy sighed in defeat. “Yeah.”

“Well, tell your brain to knock it off,” Jason offered with a smirk, knowing this, of course, was not how anxiety worked.

Roy smirked back. “Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”

Jason shrugged. “I guess I must be a genius,” he teased. He propped himself up on an elbow. Roy followed suit. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not much to talk about,” Roy admitted. “You got shot last night. It was stressful. Luckily it all worked out in the end.”

“I guess depending on your definition of ‘worked out in the end.’”

“You’re alive.”

“Well, then, yeah, it all worked out in the end.”

Roy chuckled. He could always count on Jason for some light (or sometimes pretty heavy) gallows humor. It was one of the many (many) things he appreciated about Jason.

In the interest of not talking about his anxiety any longer, which sometimes only made his anxiety worse – it was a fucking ouroboros – Roy changed the subject. “What about you? What’s keeping you awake?”

“My leg feels like it’s on fire.” Jason gestured to his elevated, injured leg. “The painkillers they gave me at the hospital wore off.”

“What about the ones they sent you home with?” There was a brand-new bottle of prescription-strength painkillers sitting in their medicine cabinet, where Roy had put it on their way into bed after returning home from the hospital. They weren’t weak ones, either. Depending on Jason’s tolerance, they would knock him right out if he needed some sleep, and more importantly, they’d give him some relief from the pain of his injury.

“I’m not taking those,” Jason stubbornly insisted. “Give me a couple of extra-strength Tylenol.”

“Extra-strength Tylenol isn’t gonna touch the pain of a gunshot wound,” Roy said, speaking from experience.

Nevertheless, Jason replied, “I’m not taking anything stronger.”

Roy was about to ask why – it wasn’t for his sake, was it? – when his sleep-deprived brain connected the dots. He remembered Jason’s stepmother, one of the many figures from Jason’s past who Jason rarely spoke about. She’d died of an overdose.

Given that context, Roy knew better than to push Jason on the matter. He got out of bed and said, “Alright. A couple of extra-strength Tylenol, coming right up.”

Roy made his way to the bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet. Jason’s painkillers were sitting at the front, that white bottle singing like a siren to the part of Roy’s brain that would never fully die no matter how vigorously he tried to suffocate it. The eternal addict in him. Roy had plenty of experience ignoring this part of him, though, and his hand barely hovered over the bottle of painkillers for a second before he reached past it to the extra-strength Tylenol.

He brought four pills – which he knew off the top of his head was the equivalent of one prescription-strength Tylenol – and a glass of water to Jason’s side of the bed. Jason knocked down the pills in a single gulp and laid back down. “Thanks,” he said to Roy.

“Don’t mention it,” Roy said, getting back in bed.

Several minutes passed between them in silence as they both pretended to try to go back to sleep.

“If it helps,” Jason offered into the silence, “You can hold onto me, or something. For your anxiety.”

Roy turned to look at him. Jason avoided Roy’s gaze for a moment before finally meeting it. He looked earnest. Roy was reminded, all of a sudden, of the promise he’d made to himself.

Tell him, a voice inside him prompted him.

Roy shook off the impulse. No matter how he felt, now wasn’t the time. Jason was in pain, and they were both exhausted.

So instead, Roy just said, “Yeah, that might help.” And he reached out to take Jason’s hand, lacing their fingers together, laying his head back on the pillow, and closing his eyes.

In the coming weeks, the Harpers’ routine was significantly altered. Breakfast was the same – quick, high-protein meals with plenty of coffee – but everything afterward was different, in minor ways that were nonetheless noticeable to Roy. He’d gotten used to their previous routine.

The new routine went like this: Roy dropped Lian off at school in the mornings on his way to work, leaving Jason home alone. Lian took the bus home instead of Jason picking her up. When Roy got home from work in the evenings, Jason had warmed up leftovers and they all ate together. Lian finished her homework and went to bed, and Roy patrolled alone, then came home to Jason lying awake in their bed, waiting for him.

“I hate this,” Jason complained at every opportunity. He was going stir-crazy. The books scattered around the house indicated that he spent the majority of his newfound free time reading, which Roy knew was a beloved pastime of his, but it had to get boring after a while with not much else to do.

And then, a few weeks into Jason’s recovery, he suddenly stopped complaining.

Roy was suspicious of this at first. He didn’t want to assume the worst, but part of him wondered if Jason was sneaking out and doing things he really shouldn’t while he was recovering. But Roy took the car with him to work every day, and Jason couldn’t ride his motorcycle with an injured leg. As far as Roy knew, Jason couldn’t sneak out. (Though if Jason put his mind to it, Roy suspected he would find a way.)

Roy could have tortured himself with unanswered questions. He could have let his anxiety run rampant, indulged his paranoia, jumped to worst-case scenarios. But he didn’t do any of that. Like the mature adult he was, he had a conversation with Jason about it. One evening when Lian was in her room doing her homework, Roy simply asked, “So what have you been doing with all your free time lately?”

And Jason said, “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about that.”

See? They could talk about things. (They just couldn’t talk about the one thing Roy knew they most needed to talk about. That was a bridge he still needed to cross, he knew. But technically, given the wording of the promise he’d made to himself and the universe, he had until Jason recovered to cross it. Roy was all about the letter of the law. Loopholes were a hell of a drug.)

“This gunshot wound has been a setback,” Jason began, “But it’s also given me some time to get started on something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now. Call it a project.”

Roy was intrigued. “What kind of project?”

Jason reached under the living room coffee table, pulling out one of the organizational bins Roy kept there. He opened it, revealing a stack of books. Not novels, like Jason usually read. Big, thick textbooks. The one on top displayed its title in big, bold letters: GED PREP.

“I want to get my GED,” Jason announced.

“Seriously?” Roy said, dumbfounded. “Jason, that’s amazing.” Of all the ways Jason could have been spending his free time, Roy wouldn’t have guessed this. Mere months ago, Jason didn’t even want to think about his future. Now he was getting his high school degree.

“I’ve looked into it,” Jason explained. “The test is free to take in New York, although I’ve had to pay for study materials and practice tests. But it hasn’t been that much.”

“I’m not worried about the cost,” Roy replied. “It’s an investment in your future. Whatever it costs, I’m sure it’s worth it.”

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about pretty much since we got married,” Jason admitted. “I want to be a better role model for Lian, and a more equal partner for you. And…” Jason paused, averting his gaze, as if he was embarrassed by what he was about to admit. “And I want this for myself,” he continued. “I want to start thinking about my future. I might… I dunno. I might even want to go to college. If I can afford to.”

“Really?” That was even more shocking. Roy knew it had once been Jason’s dream to go to college, but he hadn’t expressed any interest in doing so since his death and resurrection, at least as far as Roy knew. Roy had never tried to push the matter, even though he knew Jason had the potential to do whatever he put his mind to, including college.

“I’m sure I’ll have to take out major student loans,” Jason added. “But then I’ll be able to get a job I actually care about.”

“What are you thinking of studying?” Roy asked.

“I’m not totally sure yet,” Jason admitted, “But I was thinking maybe Education. I know teachers don’t make much, but I already don’t make much, and with our combined salaries we’d make enough to get by. Plus I’d get benefits, and summers off to take care of Lian.”

Education. Jason Harper, former assassin, wanted to be a teacher. That was crazy. Even crazier? It made a hell of a lot of sense. “You’d make an excellent teacher, Jay,” Roy said, beaming.

“We’ll see,” Jason replied. “I never would’ve thought of it if it weren’t for Lian. And you. It’s like I told you before: You make me a better person. At least, you make me want to be a better person. I still need some practice.”

“You’re better at it than you think you are,” Roy promised. “Much better.”

Over and over again, as the weeks went by, Roy found himself faced with the overwhelming urge to tell Jason the truth about his feelings. That first night back from the hospital. When Jason announced he was getting his GED. And so many little moments in between.

But he never did. He always came up with some excuse, some logical reason why it wasn’t the right time. He was waiting for the perfect moment. But what if the perfect moment never came?

Jason was starting to recover. He was back in physical therapy. He’d started working again. All this meant one thing to Roy: He was running out of time to fulfill his promise to himself.

Dick had tried following up with Roy, who’d brushed him off, telling him once again it was none of his business. Roy trusted Dick to keep his feelings a secret, but it felt like added pressure to have one more person who knew. First Dinah, then Mia, now Dick. How many people would learn that Roy was in love with Jason before Jason himself?

Roy was mulling this question over one evening when Jason sent him out to the car, where he’d accidentally left his wallet. Roy found it under the driver’s seat.

Roy wasn’t sure what, exactly, compelled him to open it. Curiosity, probably. Divine intervention, maybe. But either way, he did, and a square-shaped scrap of paper fell out, fluttering to the ground. Roy picked it up.

It was a sticker. A brightly-colored cartoon tooth gleaming and flexing its biceps, proudly proclaiming, “I was brave at the dentist!”

Roy held the sticker in his hand. He remembered where it came from: the trip to the dentist that started it all. He remembered seeing Jason slip it into his wallet. He’d assumed Jason would throw it away, but he hadn’t. He’d kept it. All this time.

Chapter Text

It was time for Roy to put a new plan in motion. Or maybe this was just the final step of his existing ten-step plan. Either way, he couldn’t keep stalling any longer, or he knew he’d end up in this limbo forever, this “will-we-or-won’t-we” that was entirely within his own power to resolve.

They would, was the answer. He was going to make sure of it. He’d put in ninety percent of the legwork already; he’d laid the foundation. All that was left was to do the damn thing. Confess his feelings. Turn his sham marriage into a real one.

In other words, the hard part. But now that he was finally ready for it – ready as he’d ever be – maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as he was expecting.

Or maybe it would. But he still had to do it either way.

He knew exactly when he wanted to do it, too. Jason was studying for his GED, and it wouldn’t be long before he took the exam and passed it. It was the perfect excuse for Roy to plan some kind of celebration; something small, just the two of them. A night out, perhaps, or – even better – a night in. Because if things went how Roy was hoping they would, well. Just in case, he wanted there to be a few convenient horizontal surfaces nearby.

Roy waited patiently until the day when Jason announced, “I signed up to take the GED.” They were in bed together, winding down after Roy had returned from patrol. Jason’s leg still wasn’t recovered enough for Roy to let him out at night, a fact Jason complained about on the regular. It had given him lots of extra time to study, though, which was probably why it hadn’t taken that long for him to feel ready to take the exam.

“When did you schedule it?” Roy asked, letting only some of his excitement show on his face. His heart was racing; it was finally time. No more stalling.

“Next week,” Jason said, “While Lian’s at school.”

“How do you feel about it?”

“Excited for it to be over, mostly.”

Fair enough. No one liked taking standardized tests. They were a necessary evil.

“Do you feel ready?”

Jason shrugged. Roy could tell he felt conflicted. “I dunno. Yes and no. I know I’ll probably pass – I’ve passed all my practice tests – but I won’t know for sure until it happens.” He leaned back against his pillow, hiding his nerves behind a wry smirk. “In the meantime, I’m sure I’ll be wracked with anxiety.”

Roy smiled sympathetically. Jason hadn’t set foot in a school in a decade; of course he’d be nervous to take a test that could alter the course of his life. Even if he could always retake it, the pressure was still there.

As far as Roy knew, it had always been Jason’s dream to go to college. He’d given up on it for a while, but now he was older and his life was more stable and the dream was once again within reach. For someone like Jason, who was never the type to expect things to get better – who’d only ever known things to get worse – that had to feel surreal. Momentous. Life-changing.

“How long will it take to get your results?”

“One to three days.”

“That’s not too long.”

Another smirk. “It’ll feel like forever, though.”

Roy put an arm around Jason, who leaned into it. These sorts of casual touches had gotten increasingly more normalized between them since Jason had started sleeping in Roy’s bed at night. Sometimes it really did feel like they were married, in more than just the legal sense.

“Lian and I will have to keep you distracted,” Roy offered. “We’re pretty good at that. And after you get your results, we’ll do something to celebrate.”

“What if I don’t pass?”

“You will. And if you don’t, you’ll retake it. Hardly the end of the world.”

Jason looked down at his hands, sitting in his lap. “Yeah.” He didn’t sound very sure of himself. Roy gave his shoulders a squeeze, then pivoted away from the subject of passing or failing, redirecting Jason’s attention elsewhere.

“Do you have any requests for your celebration, or do you want it to be a surprise?”

“As long as the surprise doesn’t involve any surprise guests,” Jason stipulated. “If you’re gonna invite my family – or your family, for that matter – you have to tell me.”

“Deal.” That was easy enough to accommodate.

“Dick counts as family,” Jason warned.

Roy chuckled. “I know. You have my word. No surprise Dick.”

Jason glanced at him sidelong, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “I mean…”

Was that an innuendo? Roy raised his eyebrows, intrigued. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” Jason said, backing down instantly. Now that was unlike him.

“No, no, finish your thought,” Roy insisted, not letting Jason off the hook so easily. “You had something to say about surprise dick?”

“It’s just been a while, okay?” Jason claimed. “That’s all I meant by that.”

“Any particular flavor of dick you’ve been craving?” Suddenly Roy’s arm around Jason felt… different. What was meant as a gesture of reassurance felt more like a… claim, perhaps. Possessiveness, even. Roy realized he did feel possessive of Jason. The thought of Jason with anyone else gave him a surge of jealousy.

Roy had never thought himself the jealous type. Jason wasn’t even technically his. Not yet. Although the wedding band on his finger – the ones they’d exchanged as a formality during their courthouse ceremony – said otherwise.

“Don’t phrase it like that,” Jason said, making a face.

Roy laughed. “I was just curious.”

“Well, there’s nothing to be curious about,” Jason assured him. “My sex life is about as active as my love life, which is about as active as a gym on December thirty-first.”

For now, Roy thought, but he kept this to himself.

The day before Jason was scheduled to take the GED, Roy called in his backup. His phone rang twice before Dick’s voice rang clear over the other end: “Hello?”

It was the middle of the workday. Lunchtime. Roy didn’t want to make this call at home, and risk Jason overhearing it; good thing Dick wasn’t busy around this time either. “You got a minute?” Roy double-checked, not wanting to interrupt anything important. Not that this wasn’t, but it wasn’t a matter of life-or-death. Just a matter of love, and somehow those stakes felt even higher, maybe because Roy faced life-or-death decisions on a near-daily basis.

Physical danger was no big deal. Risk to life and limb? That was a Tuesday. Emotional intimacy, on the other hand? That shit was scary.

“Yeah, I got a minute,” Dick answered, blithely oblivious to Roy’s current dilemma. “What do you need?”

“I know this isn’t much notice, but what are your plans this weekend?”

“No plans. Why?”

Roy worried at his lower lip. This was it. “Any chance you could come up and watch Lian for an evening?”

“Sure,” came Dick’s immediate, unquestioning answer. He was always happy to babysit, and he did it for free, too, which Roy appreciated. Unfortunately, that meant paying for Dick’s services in other ways: with information. “Why, what will you and Jason be up to?”

Roy wasn’t certain how much he could safely reveal. He didn’t mind spilling his own secrets, not to Dick – he was a loyal friend, even if he was also a notorious gossip – but he wasn’t about to start spilling Jason’s. “Has he mentioned anything to you about what he’s been up to lately?” Roy asked.

“You mean getting his GED? No, he hasn’t mentioned it.”

Roy shook his head fondly. Typical. “But you know about it anyway.”

“I keep tabs on family,” Dick unrepentantly admitted. “It’s our love language.”

“Sure it is.”

“I take it you want to celebrate with him this weekend?”

“Assuming he passes.”

“I’m sure he will.” Roy could hear the smirk in Dick’s voice. “Is that when you plan on finally telling him how you feel?”

Hopefully Dick could likewise hear Roy’s cold glare. “You have not gotten any less annoying since we met.” This was patently untrue. Dick had been way more annoying as a teenager. To be fair, most of the Titans had. But it was true that Dick’s freaky detective abilities had not gotten any less inconvenient.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Dick replied smugly.

“Can you watch Lian or not?”

“I already told you I could.” That motherfucker was still smirking. Roy could tell. “You want me to watch her at your house?”

“Actually, I was hoping you could take her out to a movie or something so Jason and I could have the place to ourselves.”

“Mhm.” It wasn’t even a word, but it was nonetheless laden with meaning.

“Not like that.” But probably – hopefully – a little bit like that.

“Whatever you say, Harper. What time do you want me to be there?”

Jason’s scheduled testing day arrived even quicker than Roy expected. He felt like he was racing against a countdown clock; he had so much he needed to prepare for and so little time to do it.

He got up early that day and made breakfast, a task that Jason had mostly taken over since he’d moved in. By the time Jason came downstairs, there was a full cup of coffee and a stack of blueberry pancakes sitting at his place at the table.

Lian followed behind him, her hair in two mini buns on either side of her head like a tiny Princess Leia. Jason was getting creative with her hairstyles lately; he’d learned French braids, bubble braids, space buns, messy buns, ballerina buns, and more. Lian loved having so many more options to choose from each day. She sat down next to Jason in front of her own stack of pancakes and glass of orange juice.

“Good morning, Lian,” Roy greeted her, planting a careful kiss on her head between the two buns. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Good!” she announced. “Jay did my hair, see?”

“I do see. He did a very good job. You look beautiful. Did you remember to say ‘thank you’?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Good job. Do you need help cutting your pancakes?”

“Nope!”

Roy joined Lian and Jason at the table. “Today’s the day,” he said to Jason.

Jason grimaced through a mouthful of pancake. He chewed and swallowed and said, “Don’t remind me.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Roy teased, “You’re not excited?”

Jason rolled his eyes.

Roy gestured at Jason’s plate with his fork. “Eat your breakfast. We don’t want you testing on an empty stomach.” He turned to Lian. “Jay is taking his big test today. Do you remember when we talked about his big test?”

Lian nodded. “Did you study, Jay?” she asked.

“I did.”

“Do you think you’ll get an A?”

The GED wasn’t graded like that, but Jason rolled with it anyway. “I hope so.”

“If Jay passes this test, then he can go to college,” Roy explained. “Do you want to go to college someday?”

“Yeah,” Lian said, nodding again.

“Do you know what you wanna be when you grow up?”

“A vet,” Lian confidently answered. She was very into animals at the moment. Roy knew it was only a matter of time before she began lobbying for a pet. He was surprised she hadn’t already.

“You’d make a great vet,” Jason encouraged.

Lian looked up at Roy with her big brown eyes. “Dad, do you have to take a big test to be a vet?”

“First you have to go to college,” Roy told her. “Then you have to go to vet school, which is like extra college where you learn how to be a vet. Then you have to take a big test.” Roy had looked into it the last time Lian had mentioned wanting to be a vet. He knew her ambitions could easily change by the time she reached adulthood, but there was no harm in him being prepared. “And then, last, you need to get a license.”

“Like a driver’s license?” Lian asked.

“Sort of. A driver’s license means you passed a driving test and know how to drive, and a professional license means you’ve learned and practiced enough and done everything you need to do to be good at your job. Counselors like me need a license, social workers like Dick need one, teachers need one, vets need one. Lots of people.”

“So Jay has to get a license too?”

“If he decides to be a teacher, yes.”

“Does he have to go to extra college after regular college?”

Jason took over. “Yep,” he said. “But I can still work as a teacher while I’m in extra college. And I can be a substitute teacher after regular college.”

Lian’s eyes lit up. “You could be a substitute teacher for my class!” she exclaimed.

“That would be fun,” Jason agreed, “But I think I want to be a high school teacher. Although you might be in high school by the time I start teaching.”

“Really? That’s so long!”

“Well, first I need to apply to college, and then it’ll take me at least four years to finish. So if I start next year when you’re in fifth grade, by the time I finish, you’ll be in ninth grade.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“You’re gonna be a really good teacher, Jay,” Lian assured him. “Maybe even better than my teacher.”

Jason smiled. “Thanks, Lian. I hope you’re right.”

Roy took Lian to school that day so Jason could take his test. He didn’t know what to expect when he returned home that evening, and for some reason he was surprised when everything was exactly as it always was: Jason was making dinner, Lian was doing her homework at the table.

“How’d the test go?” Roy asked.

Jason hardly looked up from the pot he was stirring on the stove. “Fine. I think. I’ll find out in a couple days.”

Ah. Jason was distracting himself from the anxiety of waiting for his results by maintaining a sense of normalcy. A surprisingly healthy coping mechanism, Roy noted. Good for him.

“I bet you did great,” Roy said, sitting down at the table with Lian, happy to play along with Jason’s act. “What’s for dinner? Smells delicious.”

The rest of the evening progressed as usual: The three of them ate dinner, helped Lian finish her homework, put her to bed, went out on patrol, and returned to their shared bed, settling in for the night.

“By the way,” he said to Jason, who was scrolling on his phone beside him. Jason looked up expectantly. “You told me to warn you if I invited anyone to your celebration this weekend.”

“We’re doing that this weekend? I’ll probably get my results before that.”

“I know,” Roy replied. “And I know it’s a lot to ask that you wait a few days to open them, but I just think it’d be easier to celebrate on the weekend.”

“Seriously? You want me to wait even longer?”

Roy put on his best apologetic expression. If Jason didn’t agree, he could always tweak his plan, but he’d already gotten Dick to agree to babysit on the weekend, so really it would be easier for everyone involved if Jason agreed.

Jason sighed. “Who did you invite?”

“Nobody,” Roy told him. “But I did ask Dick to watch Lian.”

“Why? She’s not celebrating with us?”

Here it was. Time for Roy to lay his cards on the table. (Well, not all of them. Not yet.) “I was thinking we could do something with just the two of us, if that’s alright with you.”

Jason looked taken aback. What Roy wouldn’t give to know exactly what he was thinking. “Sure,” Jason said. “Yeah. That’s fine with me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll wait a few days to open my results. For you.”

Roy grinned. “Perfect.”

There wasn’t much Roy needed to prepare before the weekend came. Other than himself, which was the hardest part. But he’d delayed this long enough, and at some point he had to either do the damn thing or resign himself to a lifetime of pining for the man he’d already fucking married.

It was this realization that finally calmed some of the anxiety that had been roiling within him for months. Each time it reared its ugly head, Roy reminded himself: Realistically, what was the worst that could happen?

Irrationally, he jumped to the worst-case scenarios, ruining his friendship with Jason, destroying the good thing that had going. But that wasn’t actually going to happen. He and Jason had been through so much together; a confession of feelings wasn’t going to break them now.

Despite these frequent self-reminders, Roy still felt himself getting jittery as the weekend approached. He could tell Jason felt similarly anxious, but about his test results. They were each doing everything in their power to distract themselves from how they were feeling.

Roy threw himself into his work during the day and fighting crime at night. Jason threw himself into his physical therapy exercises, researching more affordable college programs, and taking care of Lian. They were both having trouble sleeping, so they’d taken to watching TV in bed. Roy had so many shows he needed to catch up on that he never had time to watch because they were age-inappropriate for Lian.

During these late-night TV marathons, Roy allowed himself to fantasize about what his life would be like if Jason did, in fact, reciprocate his feelings. If their marriage became more than just a piece of paper, if it actually meant something. They could have moments like this all the time. Little moments of intimacy, just the two of them. Family bonding with Lian. Going on family vacations. Going on actual dates. Celebrating each other’s milestones. Planning for the future.

Roy wanted all that and more. It scared him, sometimes, how much he wanted Jason. Wanted him so much he concocted a ten-step plan to win his heart that took place over several months and involved moving in together and getting legally married. Roy didn’t always get what he wanted, but he’d made damn sure to hedge his bets this time around. There was no room for error. He wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything else.

Friday night, they were in bed again, watching TV, and Roy was thinking these same thoughts, as well as worrying about the day to come. For better or worse, everything was about to change.

Either way, it was too late for him to change his mind. He’d already told Dick, and no way was he about to let Roy off the hook. There would be hell to pay if Roy backed out now.

He snuck a glance over at Jason, taking him in. The contours of his face lit by the TV’s dim glow. That strong jaw, those cheekbones, startling green eyes. Thick eyebrows that lent him an air of mystery, dark hair with a shock of white perfectly framing his face, his full lips with a tiny little scar that most people probably assumed he got in some badass fight but that Roy happened to know he actually got saving a litter of kittens and their highly protective mama from a dumpster back in his Robin days. He had no fucking clue how hot he was; that had always been the case, as long as Roy had known him. Roy was pretty easy on the eyes himself, but Jason turned heads wherever he went, and he didn’t even notice it.

Jason turned and caught Roy staring at him. He made a face. “The fuck are you looking at?”

My dumbass husband. “Nothing.” Roy returned his attention to the TV.

“Where’s my favorite niece?”

Dick showed up right on time that evening, bursting through the door like he owned the place and holding out his arms for a hug. Lian came running at the sound of his voice and leapt into his waiting embrace; he spun her around in several circles before depositing her safely back down on the floor.

“There she is!” Dick exclaimed.

Roy was in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on his plans for the night. He emerged to greet Dick. “Thanks for watching her.”

“Of course,” Dick said with a wink. “That’s what uncles are for.” To Lian: “You ready to go see a movie?”

“Can we have popcorn?” Lian asked.

“Of course!” Dick immediately agreed. “What’s a movie without popcorn?”

“And candy?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“And soda?”

“We’ll need something to wash down the candy and popcorn.”

“Only one candy,” Roy warned. “And a small soda.”

Dick waved off his concerns. “Yeah, yeah. I know the rules.”

Jason emerged from upstairs, where he’d been getting ready for his surprise celebration and helping Lian get ready for her movie with Dick. Roy had sent him up there over an hour ago with strict instructions not to come down until Dick arrived, so Roy could “prepare his surprise.”

“You better not have done anything crazy,” Jason had warned. Well, it depended on his definition of crazy. Was enacting a ten-step plan to seduce your best friend “crazy”? (Probably.)

“You only know the rules so you can break them,” Jason chimed in, crossing his arms disapprovingly at Dick.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that,” Dick teased.

Roy cut them off before this could turn into an argument. “Get out of here before you miss your movie,” he said. Dick and Lian were, in fact, in no danger of missing their movie, but Roy wanted every minute alone with Jason that he could get. They didn’t have that much time, only a couple of hours, and Roy intended to make the most of it.

Dick shot him a glance that said he knew exactly what Roy was doing, but he let it slide, likely because Jason was there. “You ready to go, Lian?” he asked instead.

“I’m ready!”

“Let’s get this show on the road.” He looked pointedly between Roy and Jason. “You crazy kids have fun without us. But not too much fun.” He winked again and ushered Lian out the door.

Roy waited until he heard Dick’s car pull out of the driveway before turning to Jason, who looked at him expectantly. “So? What’s the surprise? Where are we going?” He was dressed up a little, in nice jeans and a jacket, as opposed to the t-shirts and sweatpants he’d been lounging around the house in since his gunshot injury. He could walk short distances without assistance, but he’d left his crutches propped up by the front door in case he needed them.

“Nowhere,” Roy told him. “Go sit down at the kitchen table. Dinner should be ready in just a few minutes.”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up. “You made dinner?”

“I did.”

“I thought I smelled something. I thought I was having a stroke.”

Roy shook his head. “Why would that be your first assumption?”

“Seems like the sort of thing that would happen to me. What did you make?”

Roy led Jason into the kitchen. He’d left their food in the oven to keep it warm, and he took it out and presented it with a flourish. “Stacked chicken enchiladas and Spanish rice.”

“Looks delicious,” Jason remarked, sizing up the food as Roy plated it in front of him.

“I hope so,” Roy replied sincerely. He wasn’t a bad cook, but he was out of practice since Jason had moved in and started doing most of the cooking. “Oh, before we start eating…”

“Please tell me I finally get to open my test results,” Jason cut in, anticipating what Roy was about to say.

Roy smiled. “Go ahead.” He set their plates on the table and filled their glasses with their sodas of choice as Jason got on his phone to look up his results. A few tense minutes passed. Roy bit his lip and sent out a plea to the universe: Let him have this one. He deserves it.

Jason looked up, his expression blank. Roy could hear his own heartbeat like a drum.

“I passed.”

Roy’s whole face split in a grin at the same time as Jason’s. Without thinking, he threw himself at Jason, drawing him into the tightest hug they’d probably ever shared.

“I knew you would,” he said.

“I didn’t,” Jason admitted.

Roy pulled away enough to see Jason’s face. He looked equal parts shocked and happy. “How do you feel?”

“It doesn’t feel real.”

“Now you can go to college.”

Jason shook his head, dumbfounded. “It’s gonna take a minute to sink in.”

“Sit down, then,” Roy offered. “Let’s eat. You can digest that information while you digest your dinner.”

Jason nodded and sat down. Roy sat across from him.

“Are you going to tell your family?”

“About getting my GED? Dick already knows. I could see it on his face.”

Roy smirked. Jason knew Dick about as well as Dick knew Jason, it seemed. “Do you think he told the rest of them?”

“I would’ve heard from them by now if he did. I’ll tell them myself. Eventually.”

“How do you think they’ll react?”

“They’ll be happy for me. Bruce will feel bad he can’t pay my college tuition.”

“Would you let him even if he could?”

Jason shrugged. “I want to say no, but… I don’t know. I’d have to ask myself how much my principles are worth. Is it worth tens of thousands of dollars accruing interest so fast I’ll literally never be able to pay it off just to feel independent? Plus, I have you and Lian to think about now. I feel bad saddling you with that much debt.”

“Don’t,” Roy said decisively. “It’s not your fault the system is the way it is.” He waved this idea away with his fork. “Let’s not think about money right now. This is supposed to be a celebration. You’re moving up in the world.”

“I hope so,” Jason replied. He looked down at his plate, and Roy noticed the way he was gripping his utensils like they were a lifeline. He was still anxious about something. Was it the cost of tuition? His family’s reaction to the news?

Before Roy could ask a few careful, probing questions to get to the heart of the matter, Jason spoke again. “I’ve actually been meaning to talk to you about that,” he said. There was a nervous edge in his voice that hadn’t been there before, like he was about to spring something on Roy. Roy didn’t like the sound of that, but forced himself not to jump to conclusions.

“I got my GED,” Jason continued. “I’m gonna go to college. I’m in therapy.”

Roy lit up on the inside, his own nerves temporarily forgotten. “You’re in therapy? Officially? You had your first appointment?”

Jason finally met his gaze. “I’ve had two.”

“When were you planning on telling me?”

“I’m telling you now.”

“And?” Roy prompted. “How do you like it so far? How’s your therapist?”

“She’s fine. I dunno. I’ve only seen her twice.”

“Yeah, it takes a while to establish a rapport. You can always find a different therapist, though, if it turns out she isn’t a good fit.”

“Can I finish?” Jason asked abruptly, catching Roy off guard.

“Oh. Yeah.” He took a drink of his soda. His throat suddenly felt dry. Jason was about to spring something on him. More worst-case scenarios flitted through Roy’s mind. He couldn’t help it this time. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to derail you.”

“No, it’s fine,” Jason said. “I just…” He paused, looked down his plate again, then back up at Roy, a bit uncertainly. “I’ve been trying to get my life together. For myself, sure, but also… for us. For you.”

What? “For me?”

“We’re married,” Jason explained. “And, ideally, I’d like to stay that way. Which means I want to be someone worthy of you.”

“You are. You’re—”

“I’m functionally unemployed.”

“You take care of Lian.”

“It’s the least I can do. But like you said, I’m moving up. For the first time in a long time, I have a plan for the future that doesn’t involve revenge. I want you and Lian to be a part of that future.”

Did Jason think Roy was planning to, what, kick him out and divorce him once he got his life on track? That was the last thing Roy wanted to do. “We will be,” he said forcefully. “Jason, I’m not going anywhere.”

“I know,” Jason said. “And I know I’m not where I want to be yet, career-wise, but I’m exactly where I want to be with… you.” He coughed a little. He looked… ill? Oh, fuck, Roy hadn’t undercooked anything, had he?

“Well, almost,” Jason continued. He gestured between them. “This… thing we have. Living together. Being married.” Another pause. Then, “I want it to be real.”

Roy blinked. No fucking way. No fucking way.

“It is real,” he told Jason.

Had Jason seriously been planning to confess his feelings to Roy the same fucking night Roy had planned to confess his? What were the fucking odds?

“No, I mean—” Jason tried to clarify, like he thought Roy wasn’t understanding him. Roy was.

“I know what you mean,” Roy said. “And I’m saying, it is real. It’s always been real. To me.”

It was Jason’s turn to blink. His mouth fell open. “The… the whole time?”

“Longer than I’d like to admit.”

Jason looked off to the side, visibly doing calculations in his head. He turned back to Roy as realization dawned on his features. “You did this on purpose.”

“Now, hold on…” Roy tried to defend himself, but Jason wasn’t having it.

“You planned this all along!” Before Roy could deny it: “Don’t try to lie to me, Harper. I know you.”

Roy held up his hands. “Alright, I admit it. I maybe, possibly, slightly had an ulterior motive when I offered to marry you. It worked out, though, didn’t it?”

“You could have just asked me out like a normal fucking person!”

“And risk you saying no?”

“I would have said yes!”

“You don’t know that. And I didn’t know that.”

Jason slapped his hands on the table in exasperation. “When were you planning on telling me?”

“Tonight, actually. I was shocked you beat me to it.”

“Shocked I beat you to something you waited months to finally go through with?”

Roy grinned. He couldn’t help himself. He was, after all, getting everything he wanted. “Years, actually.”

“I can’t believe you.”

Jason stood abruptly from his chair, stalked around the edge of the table, and dragged Roy’s chair across the floor, with Roy in it, to face him. Roy looked up at him smugly. “Believe it.”

Jason leaned down, took Roy’s face into his hands, and kissed him like Roy had never been kissed before.

Chapter Text

epilogue

“Is it too late to cancel?”

Roy turned to find Jason scowling at himself in their bathroom mirror, buttoning and then unbuttoning the second button of his shirt as if trying to decide what degree of “cool and casual” he was aiming for this evening. Jason rarely dressed up like this, except on special occasions. Their one-year wedding anniversary, for example. Lian’s school’s art show, in which one of her drawings was on display. And tonight’s dinner.

It was, in Roy’s opinion, about as special as an occasion could get. Jason had gotten accepted into the online college program he’d applied to, and so Roy had invited both of their families to Jason’s favorite steakhouse to celebrate. He still couldn’t believe he’d gotten Jason to agree to it. (Okay, he could believe it. Jason had gotten a lot easier to convince now that Roy could trade in sexual favors.)

“It’s your party, babe,” Roy reminded Jason, coming up behind him to unbutton the button he’d just re-buttoned, making the decision for Jason so he would stop stressing about it. He leaned forward and kissed Jason on the cheek, trailing his fingers across Jason’s exposed collarbone. Jason pretended not to be affected by this, but Roy knew better.

“That’s the problem,” Jason complained. He didn’t want to be the center of attention. At least, not his family’s attention. He wanted to be the center of Roy’s attention every minute of every day. (He was.)

“You’re gonna be fine.” Another kiss, lower, near Jason’s jaw. Roy’s fingers crept up Jason’s neck. “Everyone there loves you.”

Jason remained stubbornly still. He would break eventually. “Ollie does not love me.”

“He has to love you. You’re family.”

Roy tilted Jason’s head toward him and kissed him. Jason melted, all the tension leaving his body as abruptly as if Roy had flipped a switch. They had the extra time – Roy had made sure of it, expecting something like this might happen – and he figured Jason could use some stress relief.

As he felt Jason’s tongue swiping into his mouth, Roy let his free hand roam lower, unbuttoning another button, the one at the front of Jason’s pants, the only pair of slacks he owned. The zipper was next to go.

Roy flipped them around suddenly, pressing Jason up against the sink, kissing him intently before breaking away to drop to his knees. Jason gripped the edge of the counter, biting his lip, burying a hand in Roy’s long, red hair.

“Fuck, Roy…”

This, Roy knew, was a big reason Jason let him get away with as much as he did sometimes. This, and the fact that Jason loved him so much, loved him stupidly, and he was secretly a big old softy in that walled-off heart.

Once his task was complete, Roy got back to his feet and offered Jason a wink and a kiss.

“We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

“You’re a menace to society,” Jason retorted, still catching his breath.

“You and me both.” Roy re-zipped and re-buttoned Jason’s slacks.

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Jason meant the party, not the blowjob. Roy had never had to talk Jason into receiving a blowjob. Or giving one, for that matter. He was a true egalitarian.

“I talked you into marrying me and you can’t believe I talked you into seeing your family?” Roy teased.

“Yes,” Jason answered, only half-teasing. “Being married to you is way easier than seeing my family.”

Roy rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “They’re not that bad.”

“Remember you said that,” Jason warned.

Roy left the bathroom shaking his head. He chanced a look at himself in the wardrobe mirror; he looked like he’d been up to exactly what he had been up to. He brushed his hair again, fixing the tousled mess Jason had left him with, and ran a smoothing cream through it. As he did so, he thought about healthcare costs and taxes until the last remaining evidence of his own arousal disappeared.

At exactly six-thirty on the dot, Roy and Lian were standing at the front door, Roy in a button-up shirt and slacks like Jason and Lian in her favorite dress, a yellow floral number with a little bow at the front, fluttery sleeves, and a perfect skirt for twirling. It had been a birthday gift from her new “Grandpa Bruce,” who’d taken her shopping and told her to pick out an outfit. (Roy knew that, if Bruce still had the money he used to, it would have been a whole new wardrobe instead.)

Roy was texting his siblings in a group chat called “Arrowheads.”

ROY HARPER: Ollie better be on his best behavior tonight

Despite his earlier reassurances to Jason, Roy felt it was safer to hedge his bets.

CONNOR HAWKE: Don’t worry. Dinah already threatened to castrate him if he steps out of line.
MIA DEARDEN: i think he was weirdly into it tho

Roy grimaced. He knew his father had a sex life, but he didn’t want to be reminded of it.

ROY HARPER: I don’t want that information
MIA DEARDEN: too late

Roy pocketed his phone. He yelled up the stairs: “Time to go, Jay!”

Silence, then footsteps, then, “I’m coming,” and then Jason appeared. “If we’re late it’s because of you.” He pointed a finger at Roy accusingly, referencing their bathroom tryst.

“You loved it,” Roy asserted, taking Jason by the arm and holding out his other hand for Lian. “Come on princess, let’s get going.”

Roy gave Jason one last, quick kiss before they all walked out the door.

Their families were already there by the time Roy, Jason, and Lian arrived at the steakhouse. The staff had seated their large group toward the back, in a separate room from the rest of the evening’s diners. Everyone was sitting around their tables – there were too many of them to all fit at one – catching up, talking, laughing. They looked like they were having a good time. The night was off to a good start.

Dick noticed them first, standing up from his table and making his way over to them. “There’s the man of the hour!” he exclaimed, and everyone else turned to look, some of them waving or saying their hellos.

Dick pulled Jason in for a hug, then Roy, then picked up Lian. “You get to sit next to me,” he told her, and Roy knew Lian would never complain about that.

Bruce was next; he didn’t offer to hug Jason, but he did clap him on the shoulder and say, “Congratulations.”

“It’s really not a big deal,” Jason replied, already uncomfortable with all the eyes on him. “This program isn’t hard to get into.”

“Don’t diminish your accomplishments,” Bruce scolded before Roy could. The two of them were very different (which was an understatement), but they agreed on some things. Mostly those things were related to Jason.

“Why not?” Jason retorted. “You do it to yourself all the time.”

Mia cut in, pushing past Bruce to hug Jason. “My turn!” she announced. “I haven’t seen you in forever. Connor, get in on this.”

Connor hugged Jason too. “Congrats,” he said.

“Thanks,” Jason replied.

Dinah spoke up from her table. “Let him sit down,” she admonished everyone. “I’m sure he doesn’t want to stand there hugging people all night.”

With a grateful nod in Dinah’s direction, Roy led Jason to a pair of empty chairs at one of the tables. They sat down next to each other and Roy squeezed Jason’s hand reassuringly. A server came over and took their drink orders, and when he returned with two glasses of water, Roy held his up and raised his voice to be heard above the din.

“Thanks for coming, everyone,” he said. “Bruce is right. Jason doesn’t celebrate his accomplishments enough. But now he has me to do it for him. And I think this one deserves a toast.”

Jason’s eyes went wide. “Roy—” he hissed threateningly.

Roy ignored him and stood. Jason could handle one night of being the center of attention. Roy would more than make up for it with him later.

“We all come from different backgrounds,” he began, casting his gaze around the room. “Some of us had it easier than others, but we all know what it’s like to struggle. We all know what it’s like to have to fight for what you want in life. And I think we can all agree that few of us have fought harder than Jason.” He looked down at Jason, who was staring fixedly at his glass, looking like he wished he could sink into the floor. Roy nudged him and he looked up, catching Roy’s reassuring wink. Then, to everyone else again, “I, for one, think what Jason has achieved despite all the odds against him is impressive as hell. Jason, I know you’re going to do great in college. And I feel so lucky to be the one who gets to stand next to you while you do it.” He raised his glass higher. “To Jason.”

Everyone else lifted their glasses and repeated, “To Jason!”

Roy sat back down. “Anything to add, Jay?”

“Yeah. Never give a speech about me again. I hated that. Let’s eat.”

Their server returned shortly after that, took everyone’s orders, and came back with their food. As everyone ate, they continued to make conversation.

“I heard you were gonna major in Education,” Tim said, catching Jason’s attention from across the table. “Are you gonna be a teacher?”

“What else would I be after majoring in Education?” Jason asked drily.

“A school administrator,” Tim quipped back.

Duke gestured to Tim with his fork. “He got you there,” he said to Jason.

Jason glared at Duke, then at Tim. “Yes, I want to be a teacher.”

“What kind?” Cass asked.

“High school English.”

“You are such a queer stereotype,” Tim teased.

“Is that a stereotype?” Connor asked.

“Sort of,” Tim explained. “The stereotype is that queer people hate math and love English class.”

“My favorite subject in school was gym,” Mia chimed in. “What does that mean about me?”

“It means you hated school,” Roy offered.

“Oh, yeah, true,” Mia agreed.

From the other table, Roy heard Bruce ask, “What’s your favorite subject in school, Lian?”

“Science,” Lian told him.

“That was my favorite subject too.”

The conversation continued in this direction for the rest of the meal. Dinah asked Jason what the requirements were in New York to be a teacher. Bruce asked Jason what his plans were for grad school.

After dinner, everyone congratulated Jason again. There were more hugs as people started to leave. Bruce and Ollie stayed at the table and fought over the bill, only to discover that Damian had paid it ahead of time.

“I don’t need you to pay for things, Damian,” Roy heard Bruce telling his youngest. “I have money. I just don’t have as much as I used to.”

“I didn’t,” Damian protested. “That was my mother’s card.”

“I don’t need her to pay for things either.”

Damian scoffed. “She didn’t do it for you. It’s her gift for Jason.”

“If it’s a gift for Jason, then you should probably tell Jason,” Bruce reminded him.

Damian rolled his eyes and made his way over to Jason, looking put-upon. He impatiently waited as Jason said his goodbyes to Mia and Connor, and then, once he had Jason’s attention, said, “My mother told me to pay your bill tonight. She said she finds it a waste of talent that you’ve decided not to pursue becoming a full-time assassin, but that teaching is also a noble pursuit. If you change your mind, however, there is always a space for you in the League.”

“Oh. Um,” Jason looked taken aback by this. Roy knew he didn’t exactly keep in touch with Talia, but if Roy knew anything about assassins (he did), Talia was likely keeping tabs on him from a distance. “Tell her… thanks?”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “How articulate,” he observed, with the trademark sarcasm he’d inherited from his father. He turned on his heel and followed his siblings out the door.

Bruce followed the rest of his family, stopping to speak to Jason one more time before he left. “I’m proud of you, son,” he said, and this time he did hug Jason, and Jason looked for a split second like he would spontaneously combust or maybe even cry before he schooled his face back into a neutral-leaning-bored expression.

Roy smirked but kept his thoughts to himself. He couldn’t throw stones from the glass house he was in; he had just as many daddy issues as Jason. He couldn’t remember the last time Ollie had told him he was proud of him – not that he never had, but it was rare – and he didn’t know how he would react if he did. And a hug, too? From what Roy had heard, Bruce was not a hugger. No wonder Jason was overwhelmed.

Bruce gave Jason one last pat on the shoulder and an approximation of a smile that seemed genuine, if awkward. And then he left with the rest of the Wayne clan.

This left only Roy, Jason, Lian, Dinah, and Ollie. Roy braced himself. He hoped Connor and MIa were right about Ollie being on his best behavior. He had been so far, but he’d also hardly addressed Jason directly throughout the whole meal.

First, Dinah hugged Jason. “Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t get my chance earlier. Congratulations.” She elbowed Ollie.

“Congratulations,” Ollie offered as well.

“Not that,” Dinah said.

Now Ollie looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. “I’m sorry for my past behavior,” he said. To his credit, he sounded sincere; Roy was sure Dinah had helped him come up with the exact phrasing, but the sentiment was there. Roy was impressed. Ollie hated admitting he was wrong; Dinah was usually the only person who could get him to do it, and even then it was a struggle.

“I underestimated you,” Ollie continued. “The two of you seem good for each other.”

Jason looked as surprised as Roy felt. “Thanks,” he said. Behind Ollie, Dinah was beaming.

“If you need any help with tuition, I have money set aside for all my children’s educations, and Lian’s. There’s enough for you too,” Ollie added.

That part was less surprising than the apology. Ollie hated admitting he was wrong, but he would throw money at a problem with abandon. Roy had been on the receiving end of this many times throughout his life. It was one of the reasons he generally refused to take money from Ollie. He didn’t want Ollie to feel like all was forgiven just because he’d bought Roy a car or a house or whatever extravagant gift he came up with that Roy would constantly feel indebted to him for. Roy could pay his own way, and if Ollie wanted to make up for past mistakes, he could use his words like a grown-up.

But this time, he actually was using his words, which made the offer of money seem less performative. Roy looked to Jason, wondering if he was going to take it. He suspected not; not only was Jason well aware that Roy preferred not to take money from Ollie (or anyone else), he also had his own resistance to accepting handouts.

As expected, Jason simply replied, “I can’t take your money.”

“You definitely can,” Ollie argued. “But I won’t force you to. Just think about it. And keep being good to my son and granddaughter.”

Dinah gave the three of them – Roy, Jason, and Lian – heartfelt goodbyes and dragged Ollie toward the door. Roy hated to think about it, but yeah, Ollie was definitely getting laid tonight.

Once everyone else had left, Roy instructed Lian to use the bathroom, made sure she washed her hands, double-checked that the bill had been paid and their server had been generously tipped, and they all left the restaurant together.

Roy took Jason’s hand. “You did good tonight,” he said.

“You owe me one,” Jason replied. “You owe me several. I’m never doing that again.”

“Until you graduate.”

Jason looked horrified. Roy laughed. “You can’t expect us not to celebrate you sometimes,” he argued. “At least on very special occasions.” Jason grumbled, but he didn’t put up a fight.

Lian spoke up from behind them as they held the front door open for her. “What’s in your pocket, Jay?”

“Huh?” Jason reached into his back pocket and pulled out a thin white envelope. He stared at it, confused. “Did you have something to do with this?” he asked Roy.

Roy shook his head. He was just as confused as Jason. “Open it,” he prompted.

Jason opened it, and Roy read over his shoulder. The piece of paper Jason withdrew was folded in thirds; unfolding it revealed the details to a bank account held in trust by Richard J. Grayson, with Jason T. Harper as the beneficiary. Roy’s eyes went wide.

“That’s a lot of zeroes,” he muttered.

Jason turned the piece of paper around. There was a note on the back that read, “As I’m sure you can tell, you don’t have me to thank for this. Your brother set it up with part of his inheritance before he donated the rest. He wanted me to give it to you. We both always knew you’d make it to college.” It was unsigned, but Roy flashed back to the hug Bruce had given Jason. He must have slipped the envelope in Jason’s pocket then.

“Did you know about this?” Roy asked. He already suspected the answer.

“Dick never mentioned it to me.” Jason’s voice was shaky. He turned the paper around again, staring at that number like it would change, like some of the zeroes would disappear. It remained the same, printed in bold, black ink.

Roy was already doing calculations. He knew how expensive Jason’s college program was per semester, and he knew the approximate cost of two years of graduate school, plus the cost of textbooks, other fees… This was enough to pay for everything, the cost of Jason’s entire higher education, with plenty to spare. It was a life-changing amount of money, and Dick had kept it a secret this whole time, only to deposit it in Jason’s lap with no warning, via Bruce.

That slippery son of a bitch.

After they returned home and put Lian to bed, Jason expressed that he had “business” in Blüdhaven. Roy knew what he meant without Jason having to explain.

“Shouldn’t take long,” Jason said, looking determined. He wasn’t about to let Dick off the hook for this one.

“Patch me in over comms,” Roy requested. “I wanna hear what he has to say for himself.”

Roy didn’t know how to feel about this sudden influx of money. He could tell Jason didn’t know how to feel about it either. They’d spent the past several months budgeting for this: four years of Jason not working full-time, decades of paying off student loans. To have all that gone, poof, just like that… Roy couldn’t wrap his head around it. He’d been fully prepared to fend off Ollie’s offers of money. He’d even been ready to have a long talk with Jason about how comfortable they were taking money from Bruce if he got his fortune back. But he hadn’t expected money from Dick, of all people.

Dick had already done so much for both of them, individually – as one of Roy’s best friends and Jason’s older brother – and as a couple, helping them get over their hangups and finally get together. And now this?

But it wasn’t Roy’s decision in the end. He wasn’t the beneficiary; Jason was. He wasn’t the one going to college; Jason was. He wasn’t the one about to take on tens of thousands of dollars of debt; Jason was. They were partners, and they made decisions together, but on this matter, Jason had the final say.

Jason left. Roy went out that night alone, and it helped him clear his head a little, at least until he heard Jason’s voice in his ear.

“Come in, Arsenal. Can you hear me?” Jason was breathing heavily, like he’d just run a mile.

“Loud and clear, Red Hood,” Roy answered, unable to help his smile just hearing Jason’s voice again. Christ, Jason had only been gone for what, three hours? No way Roy was already missing him. (He was.) “Have you located Nightwing?”

“I’m in pursuit.” That explained the heavy breathing.

“He’s running away from you?” Roy asked, amused.

“Yes,” Jason answered. Then, louder, and not to Roy: “You… fucking… bitch… come… back… here… right… now.”

Roy heard a gunshot, then a moment of silence, and then Dick’s voice, distant through Jason’s feed: “Since when do you shoot trick bullets?”

Roy grinned. Seemed like Jason had finally found a use for his net bullets. Roy was pretty proud of those. It had been a fun challenge, taking the technology of his own trick arrows and shrinking it down to bullet-size. He was happy to learn they worked just as well out in the field as they had during testing.

“Since Arsenal made them for me. Pretty handy, huh?”

Roy couldn’t hear Dick’s full response to Jason’s question, but he was pretty sure he heard the word “cheating.” He laughed.

“You’re one to talk,” Jason said. Roy could picture him standing with his hands on his hips as Dick cut his way out of the net Jason had caught him in. “Thought you could get away with giving me money by making B do your dirty work? That’s low, even for you.”

“I knew you wouldn’t expect it from him,” Dick explained. “He doesn’t have that kind of money right now.”

“I wasn’t expecting it from anyone,” Jason said. “Why did you keep it a secret this whole time?”

“I knew you’d argue with me about it.”

Dick kind of had him there. Jason was arguing with him about it, literally, as they spoke.

“Damn right I’m gonna argue with you about it!” Jason exclaimed. “You can’t just…” He trailed off, as if he wasn’t exactly sure what he wanted to say. Then he started again, calmer this time, “It’s so much money, Wing. It’s too much. I thought you gave it all to charity?”

“Most of it,” Dick admitted. “But only after I set up educational trusts for everyone. Even Red and Robin.” Tim and Damian, who had also inherited wealth through someone other than Bruce (Tim’s biological parents and Damian’s mother). “And a little extra in a separate account in case B adopted more kids, because you never know with him. You’re just the only one who’s needed it so far. I offered Red his when he went to college, but he said his parents had a separate trust he could use. Told me to donate a few scholarships in his name instead.”

“Red knew?” Jason repeated, betrayed.

“I swore him to secrecy!” Dick insisted.

“Who else?”

“B. I told him after he lost his fortune. That’s everyone.” Pause. “You’re gonna use it, right?”

A long pause. A very long pause. Roy waited on pins and needles for Jason’s answer.

“Yes.”

Roy let out a sigh of relief. He hadn’t realized it until now, until Dick had posed the question, but the thought that he and Jason wouldn’t have to worry about the cost of tuition, about potentially taking money out of their savings, about high-interest student loans, was an enormous weight off his shoulders. And it felt different, accepting money from Dick. Roy truly felt like there were zero strings attached.

“It should be enough to get you through grad school, too,” Roy heard Dick say.

“‘Should be’?” Jason repeated. “I could go to law school with that amount. I could go to law school, then med school, then get a PhD. I could—” Jason cut himself off before he got carried away. “I can’t fucking believe you,” he said instead.

“Yeah, well, you’re welcome,” Dick said. “Ungrateful.”

“Shut up,” Jason retorted. “You know you’d be the same way. You hate taking money from people even more than I do; that’s why you gave it all away.”

“That’s beside the point. Go to college. Be debt-free. You deserve it.”

Jason returned home just as Roy was getting back from patrol. They got in the shower together, lathering up to wash the day’s (and night’s) sweat off their bodies. They did this in silence until Jason spoke up.

“I guess I can pay for college now.”

“Just like that,” Roy observed, rinsing shampoo out of his hair.

“Just like that,” Jason repeated.

“How do you feel about it?”

Jason appeared to consider this. “Overwhelmed,” he admitted. “It’s obviously way more money than I need. But I thought, since you mentioned Ollie already has an educational trust for Lian, we could donate what we don’t need to a scholarship.”

Roy smiled. “I think that’s a great idea.” He knew Jason had always wanted to be able to give back, especially to kids who’d grown up like he had. Roy admired that about him. They could have used the extra money from Dick to benefit themselves, but instead Jason wanted to give it to someone who would benefit from it more.

They got out of the shower and dried off. Before Jason could start getting dressed, Roy stopped him, grabbing him by the arm and leading him toward the bed. “You mentioned me owing you one,” he said with a smirk.

“I believe I mentioned you owing me several,” Jason corrected him.

“Well why don’t I get started paying you back now?” Roy dragged Jason into bed, rolling them around until he was on top and then dipping down to kiss Jason, long and slow. Jason kissed him back eagerly.

“I think we can work out a payment plan.”

Roy smiled against Jason’s lips. Today he felt like the luckiest man alive. Most days he’d spent married to Jason he’d felt like the luckiest man alive, especially since they’d both confessed their feelings.

He pictured going back in time, finding himself at his absolute lowest, and showing that version of him what his life looked like now. His past self wouldn’t have believed it. He still didn’t fully believe it. Some days he wondered if he’d died and gone to heaven, if such a place existed. If it did, he imagined it felt a lot like this.

“I love you,” he said to Jason as he kissed the side of his neck. Jason’s skin was warm from the shower; his hair was tousled by the bed. Roy wanted to take a mental picture and make this moment last forever.

They were married. They were in love. Jason was going to college. They had enough money to pay for it. Everything was going their way.

“I love you too,” Jason answered, wrapping his arms around Roy, holding onto him like a lifeline.

No matter what came next, good or bad, Roy felt like they could face it together. He knew Jason felt the same.