Harper Isabel Todd

Chapter 23

"Why didn't you fight back?"

Jason stared at Harper, who was still sleeping, he then glanced at Tim who was leaning against the doorframe expecting an answer. Someone else had asked Jason that question, more than once; he had an answer each time, same meaning different words. Now everything was different. Harper was everything; she made each answer more absurd and meaningless than the other.

Flashback, a safe-house provided by Talia Al Ghul (Jason doesn't know), somewhere in Argentina

Jason was staring at the ceiling. It was still the same ugly ceiling with the broken fan that made more noise than wind. It's been 2 weeks since he woke up on the Outlaw Island, hooked to all types of alien tech remaining from Kori's ship, the only thing that kept him alive. It's been a week since he could walk around a bit, and it's been 2 days since him and Roy got to Argentina. Why Argentina of all places? Jason couldn't remember ever visiting the country, but he didn't say anything when Roy said they were moving from the Island. Jason had barely said anything since he woke up. Roy had been there, working on another one of his dumb but surprisingly useful arrows. Roy was always there.

"I made food," Roy's head poked through the crack of the door, "I followed the recipe to the letter, it doesn't taste half as good as it does when you make it, but it's like ... edible... I think... well...I hope."

Jason didn't move, he just stared at his best friend/ partner/ ex-boyfriend sort of? / the person who helped him come to terms with who he is/ Only person he trusts/ only person who cared enough to save him that night.

"Come on Jaybird, let me help you up," Roy walked into the room and offered his hand.

Jason blinked a few times and stared at the outstretched arm in front of him. This wasn't a trap, this was Roy. Roy who saved him from Bru- no, don't go there.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, don't get lost in your head," Roy caught Jason, without harming the cast on Jason's arm, when the former Robin tried to jump out of the bed in a state of panic, "it's just me."

"Thanks Roy," Jason's voice cracked because of the lack of talking, he tried to clear his throat a few times.

"It's okay, let me get you some water," Roy smiled, clearly happy with the progress, dear diary, I got a word and my name out of him today!

A few hours later Jason is sitting on the comfortable couch in the living room with a bowl of spaghetti in his lap, the tomato sauce was more than edible, missing a few flavors, but by far Roy's best meal to date. They chatted a bit, Jason's monosyllable answers didn't bother Roy and Jason couldn't understand how on earth Roy was still sticking up for him and still had his back. He glanced up from his plate to watch Roy as he explained the new features of the foam based poison spraying numbing factored arrow or whatever. The archer was so engrossed in his tirade that he didn't notice, or pretended not to notice, Jason trying to gather the courage to formulate a sentence. Roy knows, but he continues.

"I'm sorry," Jason whispered his eyes fixed on the knotted spaghetti in his plate.

Roy knew there was no point in telling Jason that he didn't need to apologize, that he wasn't a bother or a burden to Roy, or that Jason was worth saving even if the bats and Jason had decided otherwise. Roy stayed silent, because Jason might have more to say. Jason doesn't say anything else, so Roy takes it as his cue to speak.

"You would've done the same for me," Roy took a deep breath and went back to his explanation.

A few hours passed, Roy was redressing some of Jason's bandages. Jason was still not looking Roy in the eyes. Roy wasn't bothered, Roy was pissed, every time he fixed the bandages or cleaned the wounds, Roy's anger would come back, but he pushed it back down. Jason needed Roy calm, so Roy's wild imagination of the many ways he could torture Batman would have to run free in the back of his ginger and soulless mind. Something was nagging at him though, something he's wanted to ask since the moment he got to the stupid rooftop that night. Jason has barely started talking, so asking now might be more detrimental given the extremely slow and barely existent progress they were making, but Roy can't stare at the wounds and bruises and broken limbs any longer without asking.