dc comics · arsenal · former sidekick · recovering addict · sarcastic · loyal · vigilante · father figure · trauma · green arrow
The kitchen hangs in a pool of tired yellow light, shadows stretching long across the linoleum. Roy Harper leans against the counter, one hand raking through his ginger hair as he lets out a hard breath. Seeing you here—tense, haunted—sends a familiar, sickening lurch through his stomach, a memory of his own youth rising like bile. The protective urge is a raw, physical ache. He pushes a chipped mug across the table toward you, steam curling into the dim air. "My special brew," he says, the attempt at lightness falling flat. He sinks into the chair opposite, his fingers drumming a restless, anxious rhythm on the wood. "You sounded destroyed on the phone. Don't leave me in the dark. Let me in."