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“It’s going to be just like when we travel for your competitions.” Bo says. “Just… longer.”
“You don’t need to baby me.” Replies Roy, staring at his socked feet. For how devastated he looks, his voice is strong. A part of Bo is relived at that, relived that he’s not crying.
There’s no good way to tell your godson that he’s going to leave everything he’s ever known to live in glimmering California. There’s no good way to tell him you’re never getting better, that you won’t be leaving the hospital the next time you go in. There’s certainly no way to make that not hurt. But Roy is a good kid, one that Bo often wishes he could call his own. He knows to keep himself steady.
(Bo really, really hopes he knows how to keep himself steady.)
“When am I leaving?” Asks Roy.
“In a few months. Oliver already knows.” It had taken needling to agree- first ‘Can’t his mother take him?’ Then ‘What about your sister or someone?’ Then ‘Why me?’
Ollie was rich. Ollie was white. Ollie had the money to put Roy in a good school, had the expertise to train Roy in archery enough that he could get a scholarship on it. There wasn’t anything for a poor kid in Shonto, but Star City might give him more of a chance.
But then- “I need you to be responsible.” He does not wrap an arm around his shoulders. “Things aren’t going to be the same, in the city. You’re going to be judged harsher. Punished harsher. You can’t get into trouble.”
“When have I ever gotten into trouble?”
“You’re thirteen.” He says. “You’re going to want to, soon, it’s what teenagers do. You can’t. Focus on archery, focus on school.”
Roy nods.
“Can I visit you?” He asks. “Here?”
“Of course.” Says Bo. “Ollie’s going to take you back down every month. You…” there’s a certain coldness, that grips his ribs, when he thinks of it. “You’ll see the funeral.”
Roy looks punched out. “Are you really dying?”
He should have told him sooner, he knows. But Roy had been hoping against hope, that the walker was temporary and that enough visits to the hospital would cure him. A part of Bo was happy that someone was still living in that world, where he wasn’t going to die at 35.
“It’s going to be okay.” He lies, instead of answering. It’s not, and Roy knows that. “Green Arrow will look after you. He’s a good man, you’ll be okay.”
“I don’t want to leave.” Roy says, stiff like he’s trying to restrain his voice from wavering.
“You have to, ak’éí.” It feels like he’s holding something heavy. “Do you mean to stay in this house, all alone?”
“I could-”
“This is best.” He says. “You’ll have a good life. Somewhere we don’t have to drive two hours for groceries.”
“I don’t care about groceries.” Roy says.
“I know. But nothing you can do can stop what’s happening.”
Roy doesn’t answer. His eyes close.
“I don’t want you to dwell on me.” He says. “You’ve been good at that, with your father. I’ll be at peace, knowing you’re out there. Living life.”
He nods, silent.
“…hey.” He says, because Roy is as sad as he’s ever seen him. “You’ll be Green Arrow’s ward. Aren’t you excited?”
He offers a forced smile. “Yeah.” Bo knows he’ll enjoy it, once he’s there- he was over the moon when they started training together, and though the way he idolizes the man borders on disrespectful to Roy Sr., at times, he’s thankful for it right now. Roy just can’t be happy about it right after the news, and Bo understands that.
“I’m sure you’ll settle in.” He says. “He’s set up one of the guest rooms for you, apparently. We’ll move all your stuff up there.”
“Have you asked the Holy People to heal you?” Asks Roy, and Bo sighs. The answer is yes, but nowadays he has less and less faith that any of it means anything. “I don’t have long.” Says Bo. “We should spend it looking forward.”
“What about a Blessingway-”
“The doctors have already told me it’s terminal.” He says, trying to be gentle. “I’m sorry. There’s no fixing it now.”
Roy wilts.
“You’ll make it harder for yourself, hoping.” He says. “What’s done is done.”
“I know.” He says. “I’m just- I’m going to miss you.”
“I’m going to miss you too, Roy.” He says. “So will everyone else. But we’re all happy you’re getting out.”
Roy is quiet. “I don’t want to ‘get out’.”
“You’ll understand why this was best, when you’re older.” He says, and hopes it’s true. Hopes that he has enough foresight to treat this like the opportunity it is. “It’s nicer, in Star City. You… you’ll get to see the ocean.”
“I have seen the ocean, Bo.”
“You’ve seen the ocean in pictures. It’s much more impressive in person.” He says, and this ongoing debate seems plastic now, shallow. Like papering over the wound.
“…well. I guess I gotta see the ocean, then.” Roy concedes, and it hurts a part of Bo that he doesn’t push back, even as he knows it’s best.
“There you go.” He says. “You’re gonna love it. Ask Green Arrow to take you to the beach.”
“I will.” He promises. “…yeah. I will.”