Chapter Text
Roy Harper didn’t come to Gotham often. He didn’t really have a reason to. His business was in Star City, and Gotham was all the way across the country, on a completely different coast.
But here he was, tracking someone a thousand-plus miles because he was too proud to call in Green Arrow or Flash or Batman for help. Too proud for anyone’s help, really, but that was nothing new.
Roy was going to catch this man because he was a big time guy, selling drugs and killing people. Roy didn’t care about the murders as much as he did the drugs; those were more personal to him.
He was not going to catch this man to prove himself by catching someone even Batman could not. He was past proving himself.
A Gotham crime boss had come all the way to Star City. Not on business or anything—it was like he had come for a quick look around and then left. Nothing important on its own, but he had showed up around the same time Batman visited, which was suspicious to say the least.
The Red Hood, he called himself.
Now, Roy didn’t have as much access to information as Green Arrow or Batman, especially since he struck out on his own as Arsenal. But he still had his smarts, gadgets, and hacking skills.
He got close enough to plant a tracking device on Red Hood’s car, and following him was smooth sailing from there.
The crime lord stopped at a nondescript warehouse. Maybe he had a deal going down? Good. Roy could catch him in the act.
He waited on a rooftop as watched from afar for a while before following Red Hood inside. No one else entered the warehouse as far as he saw, so Roy figured they were already inside.
Though it did strike him as odd that Red Hood was alone. What, no guards? Was he just that arrogant, or was there something else going on here?
Roy didn’t put much thought into that and moved anyway.
He decided to go stealth until he knew the situation, so he entered the warehouse through a window. He had expected to be able to follow the sound of voices to find his target, but the warehouse was unexpectedly quiet.
Too quiet.
This didn’t sound like a meeting of any kind. Had his tracker been found? Was this a set up?
He nocked an arrow and slowly moved towards the middle of the warehouse. It was at times like these he kind of wished he had a partner to watch his back, but he shook that off. He could handle himself against one man.
He walked past a large crate and something swung out at him from nowhere. He dodged purely on instinct, jerking back at the last possible second. He fixed his stance and fired three arrows in quick succession.
The man—the Red Hood—blocked his arrows easily, almost like he had done this before. Weird. Wasn’t he a Gotham-based villain? Why would he have experience with Arrows?
He didn’t have much time to think on it because the Red Hood was charging him again. Guns were on his hips, but he didn’t reach for them.
Roy ducked out of the way again, not sure whether to be relieved or offended. Didn’t this guy see him as a threat? His next arrow grazed the Red Hood’s arm, but he didn’t flinch.
He landed a hit on Ray, hard enough to knock the breath out of him. He turned and fired a smoke arrow, hoping for a chance to regroup.
It didn’t work out that way.
Usually with smoke arrows, they were good because your enemy wasn’t expecting them and you could move around in the smoke without them seeing you. But it also meant that you couldn’t see them, which was dangerous.
Like now.
That ridiculous helmet apparently had fucking infrared or some shit because the Red Hood appeared right in front of him, slammed his forehead into Roy, and swept his feet out from under him. Roy went down and the Red Hood pinned him.
Cold metal pressed against his skull as that cold mask looked down at him. After a moment the remaining smoke cleared and the gun shifted just slightly.
“Speedy?” Red Hood’s voice was distorted by a modulator, adding to the effect.
Roy blinked, too shocked to quip back. Why did the Red Hood know that name? How did the Red Hood recognize him as Speedy? “It’s Arsenal, actually.”
“Why are you here? Gotham isn’t your territory.”
Someone’s defensive. “Followed you. Why were you in Star City a few days ago?”
There was a pause, and then the helmet made a horrific sound that was probably supposed to be a laugh. “Wow. I have a literal gun to your head and you’re asking questions. Dumb bastard.”
He narrowed his eyes, just slightly. “Yeah, it’s part of my charm. Answer the charm.”
“You first.”
Roy almost didn’t, but Red Hood pressed the gun harder against his skin, so he decided to talk. “I don’t really like your drug business. Decided maybe I’d stop it.”
“Speedy, even Batman couldn’t get me. What makes you think you could get someone as good as me?”
He ignored the name and snarked back. “The same thing that makes you think you’re as good as you say you are: arrogance.”
Another demonic chuckle. “If I let you up, will you attack me?”
Roy glared at him. He thought about it— really thought about it—and then said, “No. As long as you put your toys away.”
“Fair enough.” The Red Hood flipped his gun around, slid it back into its holster place, and then stood. He held out a hand to help Roy up, but Roy grabbed his bow and stood on his own. He couldn’t help but notice how the Red Hood’s hand was still on his gun. “Truce?”
Roy rocked back and forth on his heels. He had come here to fight, not to talk. He was definitely better at fighting than talking. “Maybe.”
“I’m not a bad guy, Speedy.”
“You sell drugs and kill people. Those are literally the most morally-gray-at-best things I’ve ever heard.”
The Red Hood shrugged. “True, except I’m not the one who sells the product. I just offer protection to those who do in exchange for a large fee.”
“You enable them. That’s just as bad.”
“I ensure that they don’t sell to children, and I try my best to help the people who are willing to be helped.”
“Right.” This was bullshit. Why was he just standing here, talking? He should knock this guy in his ass right here and now.
“Also—everyone I kill deserves it.”
“Keep justifying yourself, asshole. Fighting you is looking better by the second.”
“Attack me again, and I’ll shoot you in the foot and drop you off in the alley behind a hospital.”
“How considerate, offering to drive me.”
“Anything for you.”
He thought about it. He remembered the statistics from when he read up on the crime lord. Crime was at an all new low in Gotham. Drug use was down, relatively speaking, and Crime Alley was becoming a better place.
Maybe this Red Hood figure was okay. Besides, Roy was convinced he could track him down again if he needed to.
“You won’t need to waste the gas.” He turned to leave and he was almost gone, but then… something was eating at him. Something was off here. Something about this Red Hood was familiar. He turned around and asked, “Do we know each other?”
The Red Hood quietly watched him for a long moment; Roy almost thought he wouldn’t respond. Then—“We used to. A long time ago, in a different life.” Even through the modulator, his voice was soft. It was harsh a moment later. “Now get the fuck out of here before I actually shoot you.”