Chapter Text
Roy Harper had only been officially, for real alive, for half an hour and he had already gotten his ass handed to him thrice. A punch to the gut courtesy of Oliver, a slap on the face given to him by his daughter, his precious daughter Lian.
“Stop punching me!” he cried, clumsily attempting to throw his hands out to defend himself.
“We thought you were dead!” Dick shouted back, tears streaming down his face. Roy stumbled back, tripping on his feet to try and get away from his furious best friend.
“I’m really sorry! I didn’t want to be dead!” He yelled back, his foot catching on something, sending him sprawling on the ground. Luckily, Dick stopped trying to beat him up once Roy had fallen. Dick halted in front of him, face red and blotchy.
“Roy, we held a funeral for you,” he bit out. Roy’s heart stopped. Oh no. Jason.
Where the fuck was Jason?
“Dick, where the fuck is Jason.” Roy demanded, pushing himself upright on one hand.
“Jason?” Dick asked, pausing. “He’s, uh,” Dick scrubbed his face.
“Where is Jason?” Roy repeated, his throat catching. He flashed back to when Jason died, when he lost their soulbond. It was the most painful, torturous experience he had ever felt and he couldn’t even fucking talk about it because they had hidden their soulmate connection. At least he had some sort of support, even if he couldn’t describe what had happened, but Jason…
He couldn’t quite fathom how Jason must have felt when their soulbond snapped. He was terrified that Jay hadn’t survived their bond breaking. Roy almost didn’t live through the loss of Jason himself. The emotional recoil of their bond breaking couldn’t have been anything short utterly agonizing for Jason. Jason, whose entire support system consisted of Roy and sometimes Barbara on a good day.
“He’s in New York,” Dick finally admitted, not making eye contact with anyone.
“Is- is he okay?” Roy asked, shaky with anticipation.
“He's struggling. For sure. I'm not sure how much of it is due to your death, but he's not doing well. He hasn't messaged me back in a few weeks and I'm worried.”
Roy felt like throwing up.
Surely Jason knew Roy was alive, and there was no way in hell he was in the mental state to deal with the pain of their soulbond reforming.
“Roy? Roy, you need to breathe,” Dick’s voice sounded a little bit like he was underwater.
“Dick–” Roy gasped, eyes wide with panic. Dick rushed over to him, kneeling down.
“You’re okay, take a deep breath,” he heard Dick say.
“No, no, Jason,” Roy heaved, mind too deprived of oxygen to come up with the words to convey just how important Jason was to him.
“Roy, what about him?” He faintly heard Dick ask.
“He– soulmate.”
Roy blacked out.
~~
Roy regained consciousness abruptly, feeling very soggy.
“Are you done playing drama queen?” Dick snapped, tone frantic in the way that Roy recognized as I’m-trying-not-to-freak-out-and-escalate-the-current-situation.
Roy blinked up at him. “Dick. Jason is my soulmate.” He stated firmly, determined to escalate the situation.
“What?” Dick asked, confused. Roy didn't elaborate, instead watching as a look of horror came over the other man's features.
“...Oh my God, that's why he disappeared.”
“He disappeared?” Roy shrieked, attempting to haul himself up to his feet only to trip and sprawl back on the ground.
“Yes, fuck– Roy, stop moving.” Dick instructed. He covered his face with one hand while holding up his other in a pause motion. Roy, despite all his frantic energy in his bones, obeyed.
“Fuck,” Dick murmured quietly.
Roy watched him silently, breath caught in his chest. He needed to see Jason immediately., needed to know if he was okay, if he was harmed. Roy had only had him back for a few years, he hadn't intended to die, let alone leave Jason to deal with his death by himself.
“Dick, please,” Roy begged. “Tell me about him.”
“He quit Red Hood, Roy. Left a note on the bat signal and left town.” Dick explained, finally sitting down beside him. “Didn’t bother fixing loose ends, he just up and disappeared. Barbara found him–”
“Wait, he quit Red Hood?” Roy interrupted. Dick nodded silently.
“Fuck. Dick, where is he? I need, I need to see him.” Roy gasped, finally getting to his feet without falling over. Dick stood too, a sense of frantic energy filling both of their bodies.
“New York. He’s in New York. I’ll send you his address, or,” Dick paced a few steps away, before turning back. “Here.”
Roy barely caught the flip phone lobbed at his face.
“Huh?”
“You’ll find his address there. Or, at least, where he’ll likely be,” Dick said, before gathering him up in a bone crushing hug.
“I’m confused,” Roy replied into Dick’s shoulder.
“Go, dumbass! Go to New York, go find Jason.”
Roy didn’t need any more encouragement. He found himself on a motorcycle not five minutes later. He knew the Batcave had many, many forms of transportation, however he was still blown away by the sheer amount of literally every form of transportation that anyone could possibly need.
When Dick all but shoved Jason towards one particular bike, he knew immediately that it was Jason’s. Not Jason’s personal motorcycle that Roy had many, many memories on, but a sleek, custom bike that he just knew Bruce had made for Jason. There were subtle bat symbols scattered on the bike, not the symbol Roy associated with Batman, but the red bat he was familiar with seeing spread across Jason’s chest.
The helmet Roy was wearing was probably Dick’s, due to the sleek dark blue that covered it. He almost wished it was red, almost wished it was Jason’s. He needed to see him immediately.
Soon, yet not soon enough, Roy burst into the building, uncaring about how he looked or the slightly magic expression he was sure he was wearing. He marched up to the front desk and slapped his JLA badge on the counter much to the horror of the poor woman sitting behind it.
“Where would I find Peter Burke? I was told to ask for him.”
“Uhh, the, the White Collar crimes division, floor twelve–” the woman stuttered. Roy nodded and was off like a shot, scaling the stairs because he felt as if the elevator was too slow. He had never felt such energy before in his life. The thought of seeing Jason again, just making sure he was alive was almost too much to bear and he couldn’t wait to see him.
As soon as he reached the correct floor, he slammed the door open, feet thundering underneath him.
“Where’s Peter Burke?” He demanded.
“Sir, you can’t be here–” One person tried, but Roy held up his JLA badge.
“I’m Arsenal with the Justice League. I was told to find Peter Burke?”
“He’s in his office, but um, now’s a bad time–”
Roy scanned the glass walls quickly, looking for a certain, familiar face. He didn’t spot said face, per se, but it was hard to mistake Jason’s broad shoulders combined with his inky black hair. He ignored everybody trying to stop him, marching forward and kicking the door in.
“Excuse me–” One man, probably Peter Burke, started. There was a woman and another man in the room but Roy’s eyes never left Jason. Jason, who had tear tracks down his face, Jason who’s face was gaunt in ways Roy had never seen before yet knew all too well on a much younger face. Jason, who looked immediately devastated to see Roy, eyes shining so brightly.
Nobody spoke for a long moment, all waiting to see what the others reaction would be.
“Roy–” Jason breathed, oh-so-quietly.
“Hi,” he tried for a grin, but he felt too giddy to contain it. He wasn’t sure what to expect, didn’t know how Jason was going to react. All of Roy’s senses tunneled to Jason, Jason, Jason.
“You–” Jason frowned abruptly. “You fucking bastard!”
Roy smiled harder, even when Jason threw himself at him. Oh, he missed him so much.