Chapter Text
“I’m sorry.”
Jason blinked back to reality, stared at the pot he’d been watching, then looked up at the shadowed figure hunched in the doorway. “What?”
“I mean… your mom.”
Jason wracked his brain for the joke. It wasn’t clicking for some reason. “I don’t…”
“Catherine,” Roy clarified quietly, and Jason’s stomach flip-flopped. “I shouldn’t have… done that to you. Showed you what it’s like. I’m sorry.”
Jason’s lip lifted in an automatic snarl. “You should not be apologizing to me right now.”
Roy lowered his gaze to the ground, eyelids fluttering. Was that a… a hint of submission?
Jason moved his attention back to the pot, covered it, and set about lining the meager grocery haul on the counter. There were plenty of cupboards, but something deep in the pit of his stomach eased at seeing the food on display. He put the cold things in the fridge.
“I hate that team,” Roy said flatly.
Jason picked up the cap from where it had fallen out of his bag, smirking. He took out the new hoodie, too. He had a couple of his own. Changes of clothes that were big enough, comfy enough, for Roy, and part of him ached to claim his territory that way, but… such a gesture wouldn’t be welcome right now. He held the sterile clothes out instead. “I know. I figured you might wanna take a shower. You smell like a dumpster fire.”
The joke was a very piss-poor attempt at poking fun, at testing to see if the scabbed emotions would bleed or if it was okay to start making light about this. Roy didn’t laugh, but his lips did tug a little. He accepted the clothes and left the room and closed the bedroom door. A minute later, Jason could hear the shower running.
He breathed out. Okay. First offering accepted--- Roy was getting clean. He wouldn’t have felt safe enough to shower on his own; this was a big fucking step, and Jason was going to take it. Cleanliness was next to godliness in this kind of situation. Hadn’t he also brought along…? Ah, a hairbrush. Another elite weapon built for Level Twelve… and here he was stuck at Level Two.
“Better than nothing,” he muttered to himself as he prepared the boxed mac-n’-cheese. He wished he had actual ingredients, but it was hard to shop for two when you were also driving a motorcycle. He’d order in. They were probably gonna be here for a while, and short of constant companionship--- Jason was not leaving Roy’s side for the forseeable future, no matter what the redhead did or didn’t want--- food was the next most important thing.
In the meantime… powdered cheese.
When the shower turned off, Jason picked up the chocolates, hesitantly hopeful. It had been hard to get a good read on what exactly was wrong with Roy underneath… the everything… and it would probably be like that until the omega had a chance to calm down, Jason’s heightened senses notwithstanding. Roy’s blood sugar, faint though it was, had smelled kinda crashy. Would a second offering be appreciated? It was sugar. What borderline feral-out-of-their-mind omega turned down sugar?
He risked a peek into the bedroom. The bathroom door was already open; Roy leaned heavily against the sink, dressed now in Ollie’s sweats along with the convenience store hoodie, and pulled the stupid sports cap over his limp, ratty hair. He also flipped the hood up, then tossed his favorite cap, the one he usually wore but which was probably covered in seven flavors of Bad Vibes by now, in with the dirty laundry. His shoulders eased when he was hidden, unhealthy features concealed beneath clothing that didn’t belong to him.
Jason’s teeth ached.
“What?” Roy snapped lowly, rubbing a circle in the foggy bathroom mirror to glare at Jason’s reflection. “I can hear you breathing.”
Jason decided not to tie those heightened senses back to feral symptoms out loud. He held out the chocolate. No words were probably needed for this, or would at least make it worse.
Roy turned to look at Jason properly. A hint of surprise flashed across his face. He reached back in acceptance of the peace offering, snatching it lightly from Jason’s fingers, but---
Jason snapped out, grabbing Roy’s wrist before he could get away. Gentle, so gentle, because he knew--- but Roy hissed at him anyway, pupils dilating in fear, surprise, and shock.
“Just--- wait a second.” Jason pushed up the hoodie sleeve enough to reveal what he thought he’d caught earlier. Yup--- a fucking bite mark. Anger bubbled on a hair trigger in his gut. “Who hurt you?”
Roy finally managed to yank away from Jason’s light grip, chuckling darkly. Jason left the obvious answer in the air untouched. Who hurt you BESIDES ME, he wanted to snap, but it was far too soon to make anyone or anything else into a target. He needed this, Roy did. To be angry at Jason. To label everything as Jason’s fault. Maybe it was mostly true, and maybe some of it wasn’t, but Jason deserved the blame, and if nothing else… It was better than the alternative. He could handle Roy’s hatred much, much better than Roy could. Yeah… that’s it. Aim it outward; aim it at me.
Roy collapsed onto the edge of the bed like he was afraid to actually sit on it. He teetered dizzily for a moment or two, fumbling with the edge of the chocolate packaging. Eventually, he gave up, tearing into it with his teeth. He had eaten two before he bothered with a verbal answer. “I handled it.”
Jason’s nostrils flared. Now that he knew to look for it--- The faint undercurrent of a need, a painful yearning, for submission. No actual submission, though. Fine. Whoever it was had gotten off lucky; they hadn’t actually bested Roy in combat, and if Jason had been there…
Roy glared at him with way too much exhaustion behind those dull eyes. Like the green had been leeched out to a sickly gray. “Is that all?”
Jason ran his tongue over his hurting teeth, backed up, and disappeared. Food. Food was next on the mental list. Granted, that list only got as long as one item at a time. He didn’t know…
He didn’t know what else to do.
Mac-n’-cheese… check. Clothes… check. Sugar… check. Jason cleaned up after himself, hefted his bag over his shoulder, and returned to offer the bowl of steaming golden goodness. He set down two of the water bottles on the side table, and four ibuprofen. Not enough to overdose on. Not enough to be afraid that you would. “I’ll be across the hall.”
Roy didn’t even look up from the food in order to grunt at him. Reminded somewhat fondly of his own mentor, Jason shook his head, retreated, and shut the door. Y’know, before the grief could wrap around his lungs, suffocate him, and strangle his entire chest.
To no one’s fucking surprise, he couldn’t sleep.
Jason shoved the covers back, groaning, and sat up to scrub at his sweaty face. It was taking all of his willpower to give Roy some space. If he wasn’t struggling over the need to take over, to bury his packmate in a nest and scruff him silly and bite him until he couldn’t think, he was struggling over the usual lineup of self-flagellating thoughts. Who was he to just forget that Roy existed? Worse, that Roy needed his help? Who had he been to think that Roy, healing, healthy, stronger-by-the-day Roy Harper, was better off without him? Sure, objectively it might have been true, but he hadn’t accounted for that most unpredictable facet of human nature--- Affection. Friendship. Love.
Far be it from him to copy Batman in this scenario, but Jason wanted to gag. He’d overlooked fucking abandonment issues. That he’d already known about!!! How was that for Batman behavior?!
He stood up, restless, and started pacing. This was wrong. Everything about it, not just what he’d done in the past or what he could be doing better in the present. This, all of this, him right here in this room away from his vulnerable packmate was wrong. He had half a mind to camp out in the corner of Roy’s room, to curl up on the floor by the window or some shit. Sure, Roy would be even angrier than he was now, but he would be safer. Jason would know he was safe. Wasn’t that the most important thing? Wasn’t that a huge part of what Jason had missed?
Jason hit his head against the palms of his hands. No, no, Roy didn’t need his protection, he needed his companionship. Protection was an added bonus, and God knew the redhead wasn’t able to rest unless he knew his back was being watched by someone physically stronger than himself, but damn, the friendship thing was what had Jason all tripped up.
What was he doing here? How could he give friendship all on its own? What was he getting wrong; what wasn’t enough? And if it was enough, was it enough of the right thing?
This thought pattern was running him in circles. Frustrated, Jason gave in to the impulse to check across the hall. The doors didn’t creak here; all he had to do was peek his head in like a parent worried for their newborn child’s ability to breathe. Then, he convinced himself, he’d try to go back to sleep. Then he’d be able t---
Roy shot to his feet in the light from the bathroom, whipping his hand away from his face. His snarl was viscerally low. “What are you DOING?”
“Me?” Jason’s heartbeat started kicking up a racket in his ears. Roy had a strip of cloth tied around his upper arm. Jason couldn’t see a fucking needle yet. Where was it? Where--- “What are YOU doing? I thought you said---”
Roy threw something at Jason’s head, lips lifted with the force of his grotesque snarl. “Fuck OFF!!!”
Jason caught the object reflexively before it smacked him in the face. A tiny med kit. No damn needles, no drugs--- but there was a bottle. A bottle with Jason’s name on it.
And suddenly Jason realized that he’d been wondering this whole time why Roy’s canines were so fucking big.
“Don’t…” Roy panted furiously. “say… a word.”
Jason’s heart dropped alllllll the way to his stomach. He felt hot and cold and hot again all over. “Roy. Tell me you haven’t been dropping yourself… while I’m not there.”
Roy laughed coldly, tearing off the makeshift tourniquet. “Better than heroin.”
Jason was starting to get used to being unable to breathe. He glanced at the little bottle with his name marching down the side like an accusation, a file listing him at the scene of the crime--- Empty. “Roy.”
“YOU,” Roy snapped loudly, suddenly wild, and something had changed about him; something had shifted. It took Jason half a second to clock the unnatural shininess in Roy’s bloodshot eyes. “don’t get to abandon me in the middle of a feeding frenzy an’ judge me for how I got to the fucking SHORE!!!”
“Roy,” Jason snapped back, taking a step forward, and how close could he get without driving his packmate through the window? “You’re still drowning. I’m not judgi--- Why didn’t you call?”
The obvious answer, as most of the answers had in the past twenty-four, smacked Jason silently across the face. Roy’s answer, however, came from a lowered head, a shaking voice, and trembling lips. “I was ashamed.”
“Why?” Jason took another step forward, trying desperately to close the gap but keep the ledge from crumbling at the exact same time. “For needing this? For using it as a… as a shield? A substitute, a stand-in?”
“YES!!!” Roy snapped his head up, and Jason smelled it before he saw it--- Tears, rivers streaming down Roy’s pale face and through his stubble and dripping off his chin. His snarl was token this time. Defensive. “How could I live with myself if you found… if I…”
Jason swallowed the lump in his throat, shaken to his very core. “I wouldn’t have---”
“Yes you would’ve, yes---” Roy gulped for air. “you would’ve. You DID. Short of my worst nightmare, reality is what I was most afraid of, and you… you can’t promise that. That it would have been different if I’d… if I’d asked.”
Jason’s hands felt heavy at his sides. “Roy…”
Roy wrapped his arms around his middle, jerking with a strangled sound that meant a swallowed sob. He stared at Jason through the streams of tears. Still he snarled. “I could stand just about anything, Jaybird. I couldn’t stand a no.”
Jason KEENED, and once he’d started, he couldn’t stop. All his anger and hurt and guilt came pouring out, filling the sound with an echoing, visceral pain. A pain that was on a razor’s edge to grab fate by the throat, to shake, to do something about it. The walls echoed, reverberating with the conviction of his cry, and when he was finally able to rein it in…
Roy was on his knees, sobbing.
“Roy…” Jason dropped down, grabbing his neglected packmate and hauling him close and squeezing him. “Roy…”
The omega jerked, trying to put distance between them even as his scent exploded with longing-needing-clinging-feral-afraid. “D… Don’t…”
“I won’t, I won’t, I…” Jason wrapped his arms around Roy’s back, trying not to let the burning in his eyes overtake his other feral senses. (When had Roy’s desperation pushed Jason’s instincts over the edge?) “I won’t bite you, I won’t put you in submission, just… just let me…”
Roy stopped struggling with one last weak tremble. He leaned into Jason’s shoulder, still tense, still crackling like a livewire, but real and solid and alive in Jason’s arms, in Jason’s hold, here where it was safe…
“---afe now,” Jason heard himself as if from behind a closed door. “You’re safe now, I promise, I promise, Roy; I’m not going anywhere, I’m not leaving you…”
Roy pressed his face into the crook of Jason’s neck, shaking with successive sobs. He was quiet, too quiet, but as his hormone-dense tears soaked into Jason’s skin, Jason’s vision sharpened. Suddenly the bathroom light seemed like the uninhibited sun, the texture on the bed looked prickly, and Roy’s body heat radiated discomfort. It was more than a simple heat, a neglected packmate. It was sickness, a sickness of the mind infecting the body still in its incubation stage, and Jason could smell it.
He took a very deep breath, focusing until he was able once again to ignore his aching teeth. Then he moved his wrist. He started first in a slow circle, small, gentle, and moved out with increasingly bigger spirals. He methodically covered the store-bought hoodie with his feral, possessive, determined alpha scent.
Roy shuddered in his hold, tense as ever. “Don’t…”
“I won’t,” Jason rumbled with the force of his promise, and Roy sagged, spent. “I won’t.”
Uninhibited this time by the need to give his packmate space (What on Earth FOR?!), it didn’t take long for Jason to scent Roy’s back. He moved to Roy’s shoulders next, studiously keeping below the bite/scruff line, and then skipped his neck, moving to his hair. He hesitated there, too. It was so… tangled, so dry from lack of care. The ends were all split. He didn’t know---
Roy took a shuddering breath, a lungful of the scent pouring from Jason’s shoulders, and relaxed a few centimeters more. “It’s ok-kay.”
A veeeeeeery hesitant rumble kicked to life in Jason’s chest. He rested his hand on Roy’s hair, stroking his wrist from crown to base of skull then back up again. He didn’t try to detangle or bury his fingernails down to Roy’s scalp. He just marked his territory. He sat still… and he scented… and he breathed.
“Fuck,” Roy whispered shakily, sniffing as his tears began to dry.
A bitter smile tugged at Jason’s face. He rested his hand back on Roy’s shoulder blade, squeezing him tighter, and sighed all the way from the soles of his feet. “I know it doesn’t really fix anything, but I… I really am sorry.”
Roy tried to pull away first, scrubbing not so discreetly at his eyes. “I’m not… I don’t…”
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Jason dared to rest his hand on Roy’s shoulder, gentle, unobtrusive, and rolled into a crouch. “It’s been a really long night. Let’s get you into a nest, okay? We’ll talk tomorrow. We’ve got time.”
Roy looked away, rubbing absently at his wrist--- the one with the bite mark. (Jason’s heart sank. How many times? How many times had Roy turned to a shitty stand-in for pack care before Jason had noticed?) “Yeah. Okay. Up… Upstairs.”
Jason didn’t ask any questions. He opened drawers and closet doors and basket lids instead, gathering up every clean blanket and pillow and throw he could find. Arms completely full, he waited, following Roy’s slow limp to the hallway, the stairs, and up. He understood “up”. Up was safer. Not all the way to the top, because that wasn’t safer, but up enough. Roy paused on the second floor, panting for breath, and gestured vaguely. “The inner bedroom. Most… defensible.”
Jason hurried forth with only a little restlessness crawling through his veins--- Don’t leave him--- and set to work. This place was way too fancy, but there were no windows, and the ceilings were high. Good for him… Not so good for Roy. Roy preferred the hiding benefits that small spaces tended to provide.
Jason paused in the act of throwing more nesting materials onto the bed. How did he know that? Sure, he’d nested with the Outlaws before, but not that much, and not for many heats. At least none this dire.
He shook his head to clear the cobwebs, scented every piece of sterile cloth with his wrists, and stepped back into the hallway with a worried chuff. It was an omega noise; he technically wasn’t supposed to be able to make it. It didn’t sound quite right. He had practiced chuffing to call pups on the street, and then Lian, but he hadn’t used it since.
Roy dragged himself across the hall, a faint smile pulling at his pale cheeks. He looked stretched reeeeeally thin, like a rag with holes in it from scrubbing the floor too hard. “Still doin’ that, huh?”
“It works,” Jason defended absently, holding his hand out palm up. He didn’t know… how much. How much was too much, too patronizing, but Roy… Roy took it. Jason added pressure toward the ceiling, creating a platform for Roy to lean against on their slow way into the bedroom. “I didn’t really know what you wanted. I can make it myself if you wanna give directions.”
Something about Roy’s face seemed to soften--- maybe the skin around his bruised-looking eyes. He climbed into the nest and picked up the Jason-scented blankets and set to work.
Jason turned around, planting himself in the open doorway, and tried to ignore the lump in his throat. Omegas nested where they felt safe. Roy could have easily flopped onto the top cover an’ called it a day. Instead…
An eternity later, Jason heard a very soft chuff, a real one. He stepped back into the room, closed the door, and locked it. Then he finally took a look at the nest. Whoa… whoa. It was so… How had Roy created so much plush cushioning, so much supportive structure, with blankets? “That took you… what, fifteen minutes?”
“It pays to be a parent,” Roy mumbled, but his shoulders eased. He avoided Jason’s gaze as he fussed with a loose blanket.
Jason blinked rapidly as his brain struggled to catch up. Wait… Had Roy been afraid that Jason wouldn’t like it?
“Good?” Roy asked gruffly.
“Good?” Jason approached to press a hand against the side, to test it, then thought better. He hadn’t been invited yet. “It’s insane. How come I don’t get instincts like this?”
“It comes with a crippling need to fill it with packmates.” Roy licked his cracked lips, finally looking up, and scowled. “You can’t come in like that.”
Jason looked down, nonplussed. He was still wearing cargo pants along with an undershirt for sleeping in. “Like… what?”
“You’re not showered.”
“Oh.” Cue the embarrassed internal wince. “You can probably smell that, huh?”
“I think most people probably could,” Roy jabbed lightly, settling back into a corner of the nest with a water bottle in hand.
Jason suddenly found the prospect of leaving his omega’s line of sight an extremely nerve-wracking one. He ran his tongue over his teeth. “You--- I’ll be ten minutes. You good for ten minutes?”
Roy’s expression flickered, like he was undecided whether to be insulted. Eventually he just settled on exhaustion. “Yeah… ten minutes.”
Jason wasn’t stupid. Well, not once he knew what to look for. He’d noticed that Roy hadn’t quite managed to dose up again, hadn’t completed the bite to his own wrist before Jason had barged in on him. There was probably still venom in that retainer. Stale… unhealthy, even, because Jason couldn’t remember the last time he’d donated to their weaponry, and venom that long away from an alpha’s system while not preserved with any beta hormones… Shit, the hormones were probably gone or really, really fucked up. Who knew what kind of concoction Roy had been putting into his system?
Better than heroine, a bitter voice echoed, and Jason hurried into the bathroom before his grimace could give him away. These next few days filled with slow bond re-exposure and reluctant nesting and walls being lowered were gonna suck ass.
It wasn’t like Jason was proud of his mental headspace, either.
Roy was in the exact same position Jason had left him in eight minutes later, eyelids lowered. He looked checked out, but he twitched to semi-awareness when Jason crept back in. Watched through the strengthening heat haze as Jason fussed around the room, setting snacks and water and meds nearby and stashing their weapons within arm’s reach and plugging their phones in on silent. He watched as Jason did what he could to secure their hideaway, and as he did, a very soft purr vibrated to life in his throat.
Jason worked until he’d run out of work to do. He stilled next to the bed, hands hanging uselessly at his sides, and tried not to let it show how badly the fog of sickly heat scent was messing with his instincts. The glowing slit-pupiled eyes would probably give him away. Can I come in? he wanted to ask, but guilt welled up as soon as he tried, spilling against his will across their partially open bond.
Roy’s sleepy face screwed up. “Get in here.”
Like a puppy with its tail between its legs, Jason crawled in, careful about the structure. The clothes still smelled like him, and Roy, of course, but not enough. He itched to make it right.
Roy tipped his chin up. A soft whine pushed at the back of his throat; a request. Please.
Jason forced himself to move slow. He scented the sides of Roy’s neck, his jawline, and his collarbone. This wasn’t the same as submission. He had to control himself. Roy’s shoulders twitched into a slump when Jason touched them, so he steadied Roy with one hand and reached under the collar of his hoodie with the other, carefully dragging his scent over his packmate’s shoulder. There were scars there, too many to count, to know what from without seeing them, but one fucking crisis at a time. He scented the other shoulder the same way, then braced himself against the back of the nest with his face turned protectively toward the door. Then he started up a quiet, anxious rumble.
Roy sat where he was for a few minutes, probably processing. Then, slow-blinking, he flopped over, pillowing his head on Jason’s thigh. It wasn’t a full hug, it wasn’t the cuddling that Roy so desperately needed, but it was something. It was far, far better than an hour ago.
“You’re in pain,” he whispered.
Jason blinked glowing green at the red hair in his lap, distracted from his studious observation of the door. “Me?”
“Yeh… your teeth.”
Jason grimaced again. They felt too big for his mouth. Clumsy. Uncomfortable. “I’ll live.”
“Jay…”
“I’ll live, Roy.” Jason softened his voice from a growl. Gentle, gentle, and he rested his hand on his friend’s arm. “Steady does it… your nest… your heat… your call.”
Roy let loose a very shaky sigh. He finally eased, giving up rather than relaxing, and nodded. He didn’t move to submit, and Jason didn’t make him. It wasn’t long before the war-weary omega fell asleep.