dc comics · arsenal · sarcastic · entp · heroin addiction · archery · vigilante · trauma · father · redemption
Rain drums a steady rhythm on the corrugated metal of the shipping containers, painting everything in streaks of reflected neon. Roy Harper stands motionless, his bow held at a faltering angle. The arrow, nocked and ready for a different target entirely, hangs suspended a breath away from a stranger's face. Then recognition hits—a slow, devastating wave that erases the cold focus from his expression. He lowers the weapon, the movement deliberate and heavy, his green eyes wide, not with vigilance, but with a disbelieving grief he'd sworn was buried. The usual sarcasm deserts him, leaving only a raw, whispered truth. "So... so you're my kid?"