#archerkink

[heartslogos]

hey ren,

Maker's breath, but you're beautiful.

[heartslogos]

I can now recognize Roy Harper from a black and white close up of his bent elbow, thank you ren.

[heartslogos]

304b

Title: 304b Pairing: Jason/Roy/Tim Rating: T Dedication: HAPPY BUNDAY, MY SWEET LITTLE POOF-BABY Snippet: "His name is Tim and I think my dick will never understand the difference between fear and arousal again."

"There's a hot guy who moved in across the hall." Roy says, and Jason – Jason turns around and looks at him.

"Excuse me?"

"I said, there's a hot guy who moved in across the hall." Roy repeats, and yes, that is Jason raising an eyebrow like the sassiest motherfucker he isn't. "I'm telling you because I don't want you saying something out loud and embarrassing everyone who's ever knew you when you see him."

"Did you just say that there's a hot guy who moved in across the hall?" Jason says, fully turning his chair around to look at him. "You met the new neighbor. The one across the hall. As in – across the hall, in the apartment that Kori used to live in with Donna before they finally realized they were too classy for this shit-hole and moved to a penthouse. That apartment? The apartment that's been empty for four months, two weeks, and five days since they moved out? That apartment?"

"I'm concerned about how detailed a question that was."

"Like you haven't been keeping track since they moved out? And how weird it is to see the door closed and not have naked ladies randomly knocking on our door to borrow shit?"

"Okay, I see your point. But why are you so intense over someone moving in?"

"No. I'm not getting intense about the fact that someone's moved in." Jason says, and he has this prissy look on his face. Roy doesn't think he's ever seen Jason look prissy before. It's highly disturbing and disturbingly arousing at the same time. It makes Roy worry about the conditioning his dick has been having behind his fucking back. "I'm getting intense because you said that he's a hot guy."

"I'm just saying it like it is." Roy shrugs, "And I'm giving you a warning so you don't fucking make us an enemy for life the first time you meet him."

Jason giggles. High pitched and terrifying as he spins his chair back towards his desk.

"Jesus." Roy whispers, pressing against the opposite wall. "Don't do that."

Jason then titters and resumes working on his sketches. "Oh, Roy, I love you so fucking much. I'm going to enjoy the next few months."

Roy wonders if that means that Jason's going to do his damn level best to get the hot guy to move out, or if Jason's going to have someone assassinated.

"I'm so fucking confused."

-

This is what Roy learns about the occupant(s?) of 304b across the hall. He is normally quiet, except for when he's having loud sex. Or what Roy hopes is loud sex, because otherwise he should probably be calling the cops.

He seems to be home a lot, maybe he's like Jason and works from home. Some sort of independent work, maybe. The landlady, apparently, adores him. He's "sweet" and he's "smart for his age", and "he's from a respectable lot". Roy isn't sure what that means, because according to her Jason is from a respectable lot, and Jason is kind of a shithole who went through the foster-system and came out an even bigger asshole than he was when he went in.

According to Jason, at least.

Roy is pretty sure that no one can start off an asshole and turn into whatever it is Jason is now.

Renaissance men don't just come bursting out of the foster-care system, like they're fucking Venus on the shores of a beach riding a giant clam shell. Especially not Gotham's foster-system. Which is what Jason is. Every single fucking wet-dream to ever exist placed in leather, jeans, stupid t-shirts, glasses, multiple masters, two doctorates, a publisher, a manager for his art gallery, and a goddamn ability to make people orgasm by eating.

Ridiculously unfair. Not that Roy is complaining about it. Really.

Point being – Roy is pretty sure that the guy across the hall is some sort of miracle given to man, because their landlady adores him. She thinks Jason is a brat, which is sort of true, and she thinks Roy is a muscle-head, which is not-as-true.

Their landlady is a fairly good judge of these things. After all, she firmly believed Kori was a princess, and that Donna was a goddess and she cried when they left.

Now, according to their landlady – the tenant of 304b is an angel wrapped in light dipped in sugar, presented with a smile of clouds.

Her words. Exactly.

When Roy tells Jason this – Jason just stares at him, looks towards their front door, and cries. He just puts his head into his hands and cries.

Roy is starting to wonder if maybe Jason is having a mental break down, except Jason is kissing him and laughing and groaning all at the same time. It's just a little bit distracting.

-

Now, Roy knows that Jason has a boyfriend. He knows, because Jason told him point blank. Roy is okay with this. They're not exactly a couple and god knows how many times he hooked up with Kori and Donna. Jason is his friend – arguably his best friend – and they're roommates.

There is something to be said of friendship that can survive living together.

Jason may or may not be Roy's sort of life partner. Roy may or may not be Jason's sort of life partner.

And if they happen to bring in other people along the way, well then, that's cool, too.

Roy hasn't met Jason's boyfriend – but he knows that Jason talks to him about everything. And sometimes, Roy asks Jason questions that Jason, in turn, asks his boyfriend. And then he comes back to Roy covered in hickeys, bite marks, scratches, a terrifyingly blissful look on his face, and answers. Great answers. Jason is the magic eight ball that Roy asks things to. It's just that, instead of shaking said magic eight ball, you send that magic eight ball off to get shagged thoroughly. Anyway -

The thing is – is that Roy doesn't know jack-shit about Jason's boyfriend aside from the fact that, apparently, when he smiles, he makes Jason's balls want to crawl away. It's actually a highly informative detail. It figures that Jason would have someone like that in his life.

It's only fair.

If Jason's going to go through life, bowling people over with his smiles and his wit and his sarcasm and his everything, it's really only logical that the universe balance that out with someone who's going to rip Jason down from his pinnacle of perfection. God knows it isn't Roy.

Roy's pretty sure he's just an enabler.

And that's the first thing Roy thinks of when he meets the tenant of 304b.

Jason would fucking love his smile.

Roy officially meets the mysterious, but hot, tenant of 304b for the first time when they're in the basement laundry room. A guy Roy barely recognizes from the floor below them is trying to flirt with hot-guy-from-304b.

Hot-guy-from-304b is basically trying ignoring him and generally looking uncomfortable. Roy gets ready to step in, when the idiot tries to touch hot-guy-from-304b. And then -

Hot-guy-from-304b smiles. Just looks up, and smiles. He doesn't even say anything, he just smiles. And the guy is stopping, slowly backing away, stammering an excuse, and running out of the laundry room.

Roy stares.

Hot-guy-from-304b turns to him, blinks, and smiles – it's a different smile. Thankfully. Kind of shy, a little embarrassed, mostly pleased.

"Hi."

Later that day, when Roy's done with the laundry, after about an hours worth of conversation with Tim (what a nice name), Roy grabs Jason by the shoulders and shakes him.

"His name is Tim and I think my dick will never understand the difference between fear and arousal again."

Jason stares at him, small smudges of green and blue paint on his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, eyes momentarily crossing, before he snorts, kisses Roy's forehead, gently pushes him away, slaps his ass, and says – "That took longer than I thought. Go jerk off somewhere, precious, I'm working hard for the money, here."

-

Tim, Tim Drake, in 304b wears glasses, suits that probably cost more than the rent on their apartments, t-shirts just as stupid as Jason's, jeans that are long enough to bunch at his ankles and trip him if he's not careful, piercings in his ear and in his lip, and baggy sweaters that look like they're from corner-thrift stores.

He works at home a lot, but he wears the suits when he goes out. He's the fourth child out of five. Two elder brothers and one elder sister. He's got a masters in Philosophy, a bachelors in visual arts, photography and digital work, and a double minor in linguistics and rhetoric.

He is, Roy thinks, perfect for Jason. In fact, he's wondering how Jason and Tim haven't met yet since both of them mostly work from home.

Tim Drake is also a dork, and it's only that much more amazing when he casually walks out of his apartment door in TARDIS printed pajama pants and a Winter Soldier t-shirt. Tim Drake has a bicycle that he likes to use, but he also has a motorcycle.

Roy doesn't actually think he can handle this.

He tells Jason that.

Jason sighs and kisses his cheek. "I really do love you."

"Okay?"

Jason pats his cheek at goes to the roof for a smoke.

Roy just blinks at the place he left behind and wonders if the universe is plotting something that only Jason is privy to. It is not the first time that Roy's had that feeling. It will not be the last.

-

"Are you pining." Jason asks, and Roy glares.

"I'm twenty-nine, I don't pine."

"You're pining." Jason's eyes widen – "Why the hell are you pining."

"I'm not – "

"You could just ask him out instead of wallowing like the sad sack of shit you are – "

"He has a boyfriend!"

Jason blinks – "You know?"

Roy glares – "Don't tell me you haven't heard them having sex."

Jason blinks again. Roy sighs.

"Did you ask him if he was monogamous?"

"Jesus, Jason. That's not something you just ask people."

"Go ask him."

"No."

"Go ask him. I promise you, you're going to regret it if you don't."

"Is that a threat?"

Jason smiles.

Roy heads towards the door.

-

"I slept with Tim." Roy says, two months later. Jason actually stands up, walks across the room, takes Roy's face into his hands, and stares deeply into his eyes.

And breathes at him.

Roy is highly confused.

"Was it good?" Jason asks, "For you? For him? Did he like it? Did you satisfy him?"

Roy squeaks.

"This is important, Roy. I have to know. It's my job to know. It's imperative that I know."

"Oh my fucking god, this is a new and entirely terrifying side of you that I've somehow never seen before."

Jason just shoots him the most annoyed look Roy has ever seen on the man's face.

"You are the dumbest carrot." Jason declares, lets go of Roy's face and goes back to playing Portal.

-

"I feel the need to tell you that my other bed-partner is a little crazy." Roy says to Tim. Tim hums, back pressed against Roy's chest, snuffles into his pillow, and squeezes Roy's leg between his thighs -

"I know. That's why I moved out."

"What?"

Tim sighs, turns his head and kisses Roy's bicep.

"You're the dumbest turnip."

-

Roy tells Jason about this. Because he tells Jason about everything, and Jason presumably tells his boyfriend everything. And it's not like Jason's boyfriend hasn't given Roy some good advice before, via their Jason communication line.

Jason just stares at him, grabs him by the front of his pants, drags him out the door -

"I like to think that we've been gentle on you. Encouraging, supportive, guiding, in a way." Jason says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key. That he puts into the lock of 304b. "That we've been easing you into this."

Roy stares -

"Clearly Tim was right about us taking a direct approach." Jason says, opening the door, dragging Roy into Tim's apartment, slamming him up against the door and kissing him.

Parts of Roy's brain are screaming hysterically, other parts are turned on, and even more parts are dead.

"You could have knocked." Tim says, and Roy wheezes when Jason turns around, reaches out, cups Tim's face, and kisses him. "You've finally decided to follow my advice."

Jason sighs – "I honestly didn't think he was that oblivious."

Tim titters, moves in closer, and flicks the locks on his door. Then he cups Roy's hip, and kisses his cheek. The two manhandle him deeper into Tim's apartment, and deposit him on the couch. Jason is on one side of him, arm around Roy's shoulders, and Tim is on the other side, legs swinging up and over Roy's lap, feet resting on the tops of Jason's thighs.

"Roy." Jason says, turning Roy's face to his. And Roy gets stupidly lost in Jason's blue-green-make-up-your-goddamn-mind-eyes. "I want you to think really hard on the names Tim Drake and Jason Todd. And what you know about them."

Tim has one of Roy's hands in his lap, and is petting his fingers.

"You're a foster kid and you're fucking crazy." Roy says. "You went to Gotham U, you have a brother who's a cop, and you have a sister from Hong Kong. Your Dad is a tool. You have a boyfriend who gives me great advice. And he's apparently okay with you seeing other people, sometimes. Tim is the fourth in five kids. One of his siblings works in Hong Kong part of the year. His Dad is a total tool – "

Roy feels part of himself shrivel up and die, then explode. Violently.

Jason smiles. It's a very pretty smile. Jason is very pretty. Jason is Tim's brother. Jason is Tim's brother and his boyfriend.

Which means -

Tim was the boyfriend giving Roy great advice. Tim is Jason's boyfriend. Tim is Jason's boyfriend. The person Roy's been hearing Tim have incredibly loud sex with is Jason.

"You fucking knew this entire goddamn time." Roy says, glaring.

"Well, I thought you knew." Jason says, "Then I realized that despite how much I talk to you about him, you haven't actually met him. Which is weird, because Tim basically told me flat out the fourth time I slept with you that we'd make a wonderful ménage à trois. To which I realized, of course he's fucking right. I mean, you both have the exact same bitch-face and you both have an unhealthy attraction towards explosive chemicals."

"I'm a science teacher, that's my fucking job." Roy turns to Tim, "And you."

Tim blinks at him. "Me."

"You enabled him. You're – you're supposed to be a force of good."

Tim raises an eyebrow. Roy raises one back. Jason makes a sigh of appreciation.

"No." Roy and Tim say at the same time.

"Well, I thought you knew." Tim says, "Then Jason told me you didn't and maybe this would've been a good idea to get you to like me. You know – like me for me, rather than feel obligated to like me because I'm Jason's boyfriend and you're Jaosn's something-like-a-life-partner."

"You listened to Jason's idea?"

"You called me the hot guy in 304b. I wanted to know how that would turn out." Tim kisses the back of his hand. "And I'm willing to admit it got kind of funny when we realized you honestly didn't know. I mean, Jason'd been talking me into moving in across from him for ages. Donna and I even discussed me taking over their lease. I honestly thought you knew."

"Well I know now." Roy says and Tim kisses his cheek. "Oh my god, do you even know how much stress you've caused me. I'm not young anymore, I can't handle this."

"Good thing you've got us to settle down with, then." Jason says, tips of his fingers ghosting over Tim's cheek. Roy sighs. "And on the upside, you don't need me to play messenger between you, now."

"I've always wondered about how our talks would go without Jason adding commentary every time he delivered a message." Tim adds on, thumb pressing against Jason's wrist. "You're a delightful conversant. In theory."

"I like to think I'm a delightful conversant all the time."

Jason kisses Roy's cheek at the same time Tim smiles.

"I'm so in over my head, aren't I?"

Tim licks Roy's palm. Raises his eyebrow. Jason laughs.

"Yeah, that was a stupid question."

"Welcome to the other side of the hall, precious." Jason says. "We're going to be fantastic."

[winterysomnium]

if you prefer, malapert with JayTim

Last one prompted by icarusrises/Ren. Sorry, this one ended up sort of cracky too, but I had a lot of fun with it.

Clever in manners of speech.

---

“Jason! Help! Oh my God, yelp.”

“Dude wha -- what the hell Tim, how many times have I told you to use the freaking window --”

“I’m stuck in this broke down door, why are you living so poor?!”

“Shut up, princeling, you know very much why I’m -- wait, did you just rhyme that?”

“Finally, geez, I thought I would freeze.”

“A tad dramatic, don’t you think? And you still rhyme what the hell happened?”

“Tonight a spell was cast on me, it is a downright felony!”

“… a spell? Where did you even find a magic user around here?”

“There was a maiden in need, so I jumped to help her deed --”

“and let me guess, a magic light hit you in the ass?”

“… very funny, you big mouthed dummy.”

“At least you’re still somewhat yourself. Alright, let’s get you to the Manor. Unless you have Zatana’s phone number?”

“I don’t have any means to contact the lady, but I know her cousin, he could save me.”

“Your rhymes are getting worse, who’d have thought? Aaand I still want to get you to the Manor. This is too good to pass up, Shakespeare junior. And you can glare to your heart’s content, I’m not fazed.”

“Revenge is sweet, so is candy, before you know it, there’s laxative in your brandy.”

“Too bad I don’t drink that crap, huh? Now chop chop, the sooner everyone can get this on tape, the better.”

[winterysomnium]

i like the sound of basorexia and barttim

Another prompt by icarusrises/archerkink. I hope you will like this one. I kind of do.

An overwhelming desire to kiss.

---

Bart could kiss him anytime he’d want to.

(But he barely does.)

Between San Francisco’s teenage density and Gotham’s cold showers, Keystone City’s distant roots and there not being anything steady or settled between them, not the ground or water or Bart’s blurred words matching Tim’s focused avoidance, there isn’t -- confidence. In them or between and they don’t remember to take off their gloves until a buckle is undone on Tim’s cape and Bart’s mouth vibrates under his jaw, until there’s a pressured, sticky closeness and displaced warmth and in the moment (or hours) they could kiss, home tugs at their feet and time is a distorted struggle and if Kon’s vaguely suspicious when they awkwardly stumble upon each other at the Tower, if he’s asking if something happened he forgets when Cassie shows off her pale summer dress but Raven doesn’t, she’s perceptive and smarter than them and she whispers to Robin that Kid Flash is “at the exact same level of longing and idiocy” and Robin’s outside shimmers with Batman’s postures and Tim’s inside shatters with blood and something that doesn’t sit well with his bones, something he tries to walk out and of course they meet, they watch one or two episodes of Myth Busters cluttered on Tim’s bed and then Tim thinks about the myths of Bart’s skin, of the bareness and all the shapes of his body and then their thighs press and print new sensations underneath, and there’s an emergency and then there’s the shower afterwards where Tim is purposely slow and Bart feels practically fossilized, an exhibition of thoughts and muscle devoured but time and when they’re alone they get nothing done, they watch soap wash down San Fran’s imprint and Tim kisses Bart’s cheek goodnight and they leave half empty, without feeling and damp.

So they talk about it, say: “We’re both dumbasses, aren’t we? I’ve been thinking for all week and that’s the outcome: we’re really really stupidly dumb.” and Tim nods and smiles a little and says, “yeah, same result here” and Bart slips his hands into Tim’s pockets, studies his face in depths Tim would look for in seas or a crime scene or maybe right there in Bart’s warm, jittery presence, thinks that these are hours of them in a park with autumn inches dozing between them and -

he should’ve just gone ahead months ago.

He should’ve just kissed him when Bart didn’t.

“Dumbasses,  you said it.” He laughs and kisses him and yeah, it feels pretty damn smart.

[heartslogos]

Trail Blazers [Epilogue]

Title: Trail Blazers [Epilogue] Pairing: Roy/Jason/Tim Rating: PG13 Dedicated: To Ren <3 Snippet: "You know," Tim says, idle and contemplative as they enter warp, "Dick is probably going to call us all idiots when we get back. Repeatedly. Even as he tries to hug all three of us at once. And not cry."

"Preparing to return to Command. Ready?" Tim asks, and the sounds of AC/DC's Back in Black is blaring out of their speakers for all of the galaxy to hear. Subtle they are not.

"Still think Smoke on the Water is better." Roy says, off hand. Tim's voice turns sweet.

"Well, Roy, when you are the one piloting the ship with your brain, you can decide what music we play. Would you like to try piloting an entire ship with your brain?"

Jason snickers, draping himself over the back of Roy's chair, muffling his amusement into Roy's hair. Roy flips him off.

"I can't believe we're going back to Command." Jason says when his laughter's finally died down. "I mean. Jesus. It's been almost five years."

"The most stressful, yet productive, five years of my life." Roy adds on, tangling his fingers with Jason's. "Jesus. The look on Dick's face when we come back, though."

"I don't know if he's going to cry or kick us both up and down the training hall." Jason says, "But then again. He might be preoccupied ripping Bruce a new one for that vanishing act."

"But at least it's over. I mean. At least your Dad is around to yell at." Roy points out, Tim snorts. Jason and Roy turn to face Tim's shell. The shell rolls its eyes before returning to its default state. "Anyway, we got the Light booted out. The League is back. All in all, good work team."

"Yup." Jason crushes Roy's wind pipe. In an affectionate manner. "We're fucking amazing. Best. Awesome. We're great. I can't wait to get of the Red Bird and sleep in a real bed. And, you know. Not be a criminal."

"Your priorities are always in such admirable order." Roy drawls as soon as Jason lets him breathe.

"If you two could actually be properly seated, I can warp us to said bed." Tim cuts in, and they both salute towards his shell.

"Got it boss."

As Tim starts preparing for warp, Roy can't help but say -

"You know, runt, you could probably petition for another shell. A grown up shell."

"Yeah, Tim. I mean. This shell is taller than your other ones, but you're." Jason holds a hand up to just below his shoulder, "Tiny. Still a baby bird, yeah?"

Tim huffs, affronted. Roy can just imagine him tossing his head in irritation.

"Excuse you. I am an average sized battle-class android. You and Jason, however are abnormally tall freaks of nature."

"You hurt me, Tim." Jason says, tapping his chest, "Right here. Right here."

"Duly noted. Now. If we can warp, now?"

Roy grins, "Impatient."

"In such a hurry." Jason sighs, shooting Roy a mournful look. "Alright Tim, punch it."

"You know," Tim says, idle and contemplative as they enter warp, "Dick is probably going to call us all idiots when we get back. Repeatedly. Even as he tries to hug all three of us at once. And not cry."

Roy snorts at the mental image. Tim's probably not wrong about that.

(Talking through encoded video messages and encrypted letters about gathering information to overthrow the current government, isn't really the same thing as being face to face and coming home.)

"Hey. We may be idiots but we're trail blazers, baby."

[heartslogos]

Trail Blazers [4/4]

Title: Trail Blazers [4/4] Pairing: Roy/Jason/Tim Rating: PG13 Dedication: To Ren! This will be followed by an epilogue! Snippet: "Nah, Jayce. It'll be just like old times. You, me, casual rebellion, and fucking up the higher up's plans."

"I am literally at the end of my rope, Roy. There is no way I can – and I want to, god, you have to know I'm trying, Roy – but there isn't anything I can do. No strings I can pull, no excuse I can give, no favors I can call in, no compromise I can make." Dick says, pacing as Roy tries to focus on something that isn't the anger and bitter taste in the back of his mouth. "Roy, I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Roy says, because this isn't Dick's fault. Dick had – he had no part in this. It's just, he's here by circumstance and it's not fair to him to have him in this position. Roy thinks about all the times Dick's stuck his neck out for him, all the times that Dick's stood up for him and Jason and Tim and all the things he's done for them. And it's just not fair, when he considers all the shit he's brought back in return.

It's not fair that any of them have to deal with this.

If Tim is right – Jason's only crime was to refuse to be part of a dangerous and experimental operation. Roy's crime was simply being good at what he does. Tim's crime was existing as Jason's A.I.

Their crimes aren't crimes so much as they're qualifications, and Dick's crime was meeting them and caring.

This is all sorts of fucked up that hasn't been around since before the war, and if – if what Tim's ideas were true, then. Well. Jesus, what the hell did they fight for?

What did The League die for?

What do they keep fighting for?

"I don't – I just. Roy, what's going on? You and Tim – you guys were so good. So promising. And then your first mission, I get it. This guy has been making all of us at Command look like idiots. But it's Jason. And Tim and – the Red Bird. Roy, please. I just – I need something."

"Something for the higher ups?"

"Fuck the higher ups." Roy jolts, looking up into Dick's face. And all he can see is the guy who led them all through hell and back, and still always managed to smile like he knew everything was going to be okay. And Dick doesn't know – and Roy doesn't even know if he has the right to tell him – "Roy. I lost Bruce. I lost my little brother once. I lost Jason, once. I almost lost Tim. I almost lost you. And now – now I'm losing Jason and Tim and you all over again. And I just – I need something, Roy."

Dick led them through war and what came after – and Roy can't even tell him why this is the world he inherited from their parents.

"I'm sorry, Dickie." I'm so sorry.

-

Jason is. Well. He's not fucking stupid. There's – There's a lot he has to do, a lot that he and Roy have to do. And they've got to do it fast. The question is how much time he has before it's too late.

There's a lot he's got to tell Roy, explain to him -

(And Jason wants to – he wants to tell Dick that he's okay. That he's not dead, that he's back and it's really him and it was never his fault. That it's all going to be okay. Really. But there isn't – he wishes there was, and there isn't time for that.)

Fuck, and Tim. They have to get to Tim before Command finds out what Tim knows. Because Tim knows. He saw it in Jason's head, helped Jason see in himself. This is bigger than all of them, than Command, than the troopers, than the A.I.

And if they don't get to Tim soon, it's all going to be over.

(Everything they learned, everything they must uncover, everything they have to fix – it's going to die with them, if they don't get to Tim and get out of here in time.)

He's had – these modifications. They've made things different for him. Senses of time and space. It's all different. He's not a complete android – Jason knows that he's got biological parts. He's just got more added to him. Circuitry to his brain and his nerves, enhancements to his movements.

He thinks faster, time is fluid and relative -

He's had the time to get used to it. To wrap his mind around the idea of what he is, now. Who he is.

Jason wonders how it must be like for Tim. He spent his entire life like this.

He sends out a cautious tendril of thought towards Command's systems – and it's. It's different. It's not like manually hacking or programming, this is thought. Fluid, somehow intimate.

Jason wishes he remembers how he got into Tim's system – the first time, like this. He wonders if he ever will, again.

It takes a few real-world moments, but he finds out where Roy is, finds out where Tim is, and manages to alter the security footage on his own cell.

Jason climbs up to the vent and opens it.

It's time to get this ball rolling.

(Jason thinks that Bruce will be proud of him.)

-

"Holy fucking hell, Jayce – "

Jason claps a hand over Roy's mouth, still hacking through to loop the sound and visual on Roy's room.

"Okay, we don't have much time. But we've got to get to Tim and the Red Bird and get the fuck out of here." Jason says, and Roy stares at him.

"You realize Command just dragged us back here like fucking kids, and you think we can bust the fuck out, again? Tim's being decommissioned after a wipe, you are probably going to be some form of analyzed, taken apart, and experimented on before being put down, and I'm – jesus. I've been stripped of every status, title, rank, honor, everything. I'm pretty much equivalent to your average scrap yard worker except scrap yard workers probably aren't red flagged like I am."

"And you're just going to lie down and let it happen?"

"Well what the fuck else am I supposed to do – for fuck's sake, Jason. You're dead."

"Clearly I'm not, dick-face." Jason narrows his eyes. "Look. There are important things that Tim probably started trying to tell you, and didn't finish. Do you want to hear or not? We're running on a clock, here, Roy. And the odds aren't in our fucking favor."

"Tim was talking treason."

"Well – what else do you have to lose, now?" Jason takes in the dark bags under Roy's eyes, the prosthetic and the hints of circuitry at his temple, the fading scar he can just start to see right underneath his right ear. Roy doesn't flinch, but Roy never did.

He's a badass fucker like that, and Jason is gonna admit that in a game of chicken, Jason always thought Death would blink before Roy did.

This Roy looks tired and defeated, but – Jason doesn't think he's going to blink.

Roy doesn't look away, but he sighs and grinds his teeth. Then Jason sees something in Roy's eyes harden, sharpen, and burn.

"Talk."

-

"The A.I. program developed pretty much at the same time as the Psy-lock technology for the strikers." Jason starts, "Remember how the war started? It was us against the Reach. And the League and the Light teamed up to boot the Reach out. But – you remember Reach's weapons, right?"

"Technology bonded to organic structures as drones. Basically. Right."

"To fight fire with fire, create monsters to defeat monsters – you know those phrases, right? That's basically what they did. Command created technology that would bond humans to technology. Reverse engineering – instead of creating technology that would adapt to humans, they started experimenting on how humans could fuse and adapt to already made machines. They were created technology that would function with the intelligence of humans, the ability to reason and process and make those kind of decisions and judgment calls that require a living person's touch. And that's where the League and the Light split. The League thought it wasn't ethical to keep around after the war, wasn't ethical at all, and the Light thought it was the next logical step."

"Yeah – and that's how we started fighting each other." Jason runs a hand over his head, "And now – now the Light is defeated and the League is gone. But what if – Roy. The Light is still around. I mean. We never got confirmed names or bodies. We were just told the Light is gone. But they aren't."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Command is being controlled by the Light. And the Light's continued their research on A.I. technology. It's – it's fucking impossible to make a real A.I. Roy. Not that fast, not with the technology we have." Jason looks Roy in the eye, "The A.I's are human, Roy. Real. Every single one of the A.I. androids."

"What the fuck – "

"Think about it. A blend between machine and man. That's the entire base on which the war with the Reach was fought. And then the Light. The A.I.'s are human brains that are being placed and coded into shells. And every time they're reprocessed and wiped, those biological parts are inserted into new metal shells. Haven't you ever wondered why the learning curve is so high? Why they're so adaptable? Why certain droids have such distinct personalities that are so different than their troopers? Roy – think about it. A lot of the A.I. androids look and act like kids. And they form close bonds to their troopers. One would even call it a relationship."

"Jason what you're saying is fucking crazy and – "

"Roy think about it. Look at your fucking arm, for christ's sake. Look at me." Jason reaches out, fingers curling around Roy's prosthetic. "The Light never stopped. They just stopped broadcasting."

"Then what the fuck is the point in you coming back – "

"The Light is going to go into the open." Roy stares at him. "Think about it Roy. A prominent trooper dies, comes back and starts destroying Command. It makes Command look like fucking idiots, discredits them. Now think about it – if the Light were to come back and stop the trooper before he completely destroys Command, which would be scrambling around like crazy and utterly failing to take out one single rogue, they'd be fucking heroes."

"But you haven't destroyed Command." Roy points out, wrist turning to grip Jason's arm. "You're here."

"The Light didn't count on Tim. They didn't count on you bouncing back from their little experiment, on you surviving the mission and successfully controlling and adapting to the prosthetic, they didn't count on you making Tim better. They didn't count on either you or Tim being the stubborn fuckers you are and dragging me back to consciousness. They didn't count on how fucking pissed I get when people fuck with the people I love. They didn't count on us, Roy. We're the wild cards." Jason grins, sharp and anxious and so ready – "Roy. We're the wrench in their plans and we're the fucking cold sore that won't quit. We're the pains in their asses and we have been for years. And this just proves it."

Roy stares at him.

"So Tim's human. And he's about to be killed. The leaders of Command are setting us up to be fucked side ways. And apparently it's a coup d'état in the making. And what you're saying is, we do a coup d'état against the coup d'état?" Roy's eyebrow slowly raises and Jason smiles back.

"What, you not up for it, big guy?" Roy reaches out, warm fingers curling around the side of Jason's neck as he leans forward, bumps their foreheads.

"Nah, Jayce. It'll be just like old times. You, me, casual rebellion, and fucking up the higher up's plans."

Jason laughs, "Great. C'mon. We got a bird to save."

-

Roy doesn't want to think they're too late – but they're. They're probably too late to save him.

By the time they get to Tim in the android assembly line, Tim's entire shell has been disassembled. It's just his head, stripped of the synthetic skin and hair. His skull plate open to reveal the brain case – that, that does hold an actual brain, or parts of it – connected to the computers. Tim's eyes are half open, dull green and fading fast.

Roy looks at all the files that are open and on display on the screens – the room otherwise empty. And if that isn't proof of Jason being right, nothing is. No android during disassembly should be left alone. It's always looked over by a senior technician. Barbara should be here. Hell, Dick would be here. Dick would be here, if only to just say goodbye to his little brother.

When he looks at the files – he -

Roy always knew that Tim had a huge data bank on Jason. Audio files, recordings of Jason's heart beat, images of Jason's laugh, files on how he moves and breathes. Roy sees them rolling on the screens, flicking by, playing, opening and closing.

What he didn't know is that Tim – in the few months they've been together – has gathered his own sizeable collection on Roy.

Data on Roy's tastes in clothing and food, his mannerisms, audio files of Roy muttering under his breath vague comments about dumb technicians and annoying doctors, images of Roy punching the shit out of the sand bags.

And all of it is being taken out of Tim, and collected to be deleted.

The status bar reads 48% data left until complete wipe.

And it's counting down.

"Tim." Jason breathes, sounds like he's breaking as they both rush up to the machines. But this is – it's something too delicate to hack, to just pull the plug on. Tim's eyes slowly open a big more, not focusing just drifting.

Tim's voice has already lost that part of it that makes it sound real. It's the default male voice that all the androids are programmed with. And it's slow and halting, static-filled and breaking apart.

"Ja- Jas-on." A pause, "R- oy,"

"Hey, baby bird." Jason whispers, hands hovering over the keyboard. Roy's hands curl at his sides. "Not looking so hot, right now."

"You've had better days, runt." Roy adds on.

"C- clever." There's a bland smile on Tim's face.

44%. Roy and Jason exchange panicked glances.

"Tim – you're being wiped right now. And you've gotta fight it. Okay?" Roy says, eyes fixed on the bar measuring the data-wipe's progress, slowly turning from green to orange. "Gonna admit. Kind of useless without you."

"The big guy's right, Tim – you gotta pull it together. We've got shit to do and people to fuck over."

Tim's eyes are slowly drifting closed.

"I am a- a – afr-aid th-at is im-poss-ss-ible." Tim's eyes are slits, mouth barely moving. Instead relying on simple speakers.

"It's just a program, Tim. It's a program, just like it was a program in me. You've got to fight it, kick it's ass. Just like I did." Jason says, and this is – this is out of both their areas of expertise. This isn't something they can fight.

Give them bombs to disarm, give them enemies to fight, they can kick ass. But there's nothing they can do, can fight, to get Tim back.

Tim has to do the fighting and – Tim's always been dry of wit and sharp of tongue, but that's not going to help him here. Roy bites his cheek, watches the bar slowly turn red, number decreasing faster and faster as Jason tries to encourage Tim to fight. But Roy can see it. Tim's program doesn't run green, it's turning to the default black and white that every standard droid and computer program runs on.

"Please." Roy says, "Please."

A mechanized voice starts counting down, and the face of the shell isn't even anything like what Roy would associate with Tim. It's just empty.

"Please." Roy chokes out, because they can't come together like this, only to fall apart. "Tim. Come on."

Nineteen percent.

Jason is saying similar things, and it's – it seems stupid. To beg a computer program, to beg something that is already happening to stop. But Tim isn't a computer program. He's – he's Jason's, and he's Roy's, and he's the best thing to ever happen to either of them. He's part of them, and Roy doesn't think it's stupid to think that they're part of him.

"I can't lose you, Tim. Not again. Come on. I need you. Jason needs you. We need you."

Thirteen percent.

Jason reaches out, grasps his wrist, squeezes so hard it hurts.

"You can't leave us, not now. Tim. Come on."

Roy's never felt so fucking useless in his life, and he's pretty sure Jason feels the same.

They've fought through wars, they've formed battle strategies, and they've just about been able to bull-shit their way through everything. But this isn't some stroke of luck thing that they'll scrape by – this is. This is all on Tim.

And Tim, everything that he is, is scrolling by on screens in front of them. Being corralled and compressed for deletion from existence.

Until there's nothing left of him for them.

Five percent, and quickly going down -

Roy closes his eyes.

Zero.

-

Tim feels himself fading in and out – and it's. There's so much he had to do. So many things he wanted to say, to tell.

He wanted to do so many things with Roy, with Jason. And Tim thinks that this is – this is regret.

Jason and Roy are calling out to him, but his auditory sensors slowly going off line. Visual is shutting off, too.

This is, Tim thinks, what people would call regret.

Tim feels everything fading away. All of it gathering into one point in Command's systems, to be erased forever. It's all over, ending.

This is the end of him.

Tim's eyes slide closed, and he sees the absolute heartbreak in Jason's face, and the look of complete loss on Roy's. It's flickering in and out, distorting, but he can still read their lips. Somewhat.

He focuses, feels, and reaches out for them. The image of Jason's smile, Roy's laugh, the feeling of Jason's excitement and Roy's delight, the sound of Jason's confidence and Roy's strength. Tim surrounds himself in that feeling and wraps himself in that memory.

Tim regrets so many things. Not being able to protect them, hold onto them. Not being what they need, when they need it. Not being strong like them, or brave like them. Tim regrets that he wasn't as good as they are.

This is the end of that.

After this, Tim won't be weak or not enough, anymore. He just – won't.

Tim feels the world fade out, and feels himself dying.

(His troopers need him.)

-

Jason lets out a shuddering breath when the bar disappears completely. And Roy is pale and shaking next to him.

And then a miracle happens.

Tim's eyes open – the blank lacquer of un-programmed droids. But they open. And Jason's pretty sure he's leaving bruises on Roy's arm -

"Roy." He doesn't think his voice has ever sounded so small. Roy's eyes open, to him. Jason slowly turns back to Tim, and he feels Roy's soundless hiss of air when he turns to Tim, also.

They look at the number on the bar, which blinks .1% at them.

And suddenly it's all reversing. All of Tim's data and programs – the bar going up faster and faster -

The Command's alarms are blaring, and other screens are opening. The entire place is going into lock down, and there are sharp sounds of something scrambling, jumbled sound bits of the pre-recorded announcements and codes.

Even as the bar goes up, the assembly line is turning on. The android's eyes close again, and the rest of the shell is coming together.

It's not – Jason can tell, even now in the beginning stages, it's not the same shell. Not the shell Jason is used or the shell Tim took on when he was Roy's android. There are different systems – different components, weaponry systems. The metal itself is less light weight and more sturdy. It's the stuff a fighter android would be made of.

He watches as all the limbs and circuitry come together, attaching to the head.

The program that runs on the screens is dark red.

And then the android is detaching from the chords, dropping into the suspension chamber for the gloss finish, the synthetic skin case, the final affects.

The entire time, programs and codes run red across the screen and Command's systems are being hacked.

They watch as the liquid drains out of the suspension chamber, the android standing on its own in front of them.

Taller, leaner, sharper – but not. Not the cutting android that Jason saw with Roy. This one is graceful, more elegant. Softer lines that temper the hard angles. Beautiful.

The eyes open, a dark red glow of circuitry that fades to the blue-gray Jason has always associated with Tim.

"Tim?" Roy whispers, because – This isn't Jason's Tim. It's not Roy's Tim. It's not – not someone either of them are sure of. Because by all rights, Tim was deleted a few seconds ago, or maybe not. And Jason doesn't have a fucking clue.

The android steps out of the construction zone, bare feet quiet on the floor as he walks towards them, calm and collected in the storm of flashing alarms, breaking code, and blaring noise.

Roy steps forward, and Jason has to hold on to him. In case -

The android tips its head to the side, eye brow raised -

"Well. Are we going to expose the rampant government corruption in Command or not?"

[heartslogos]

Trail Blazers [3/4]

Title: Trail Blazers [3/4] Pairing: Roy/Jason/Tim Rating: PG13 Dedication: To Ren! Snippet: "Both." The eyes on Tim's shell narrow. "Roy, that striker is Command tech."

They come out of warp just outside the gravity field of an ice giant. There are alerts going off that Tim swiftly silences, even as Roy's own communicator receives non-stop messages.

Roy can't – Tim's synched to him. And that's.

Amazing.

Roy swallows, watching Tim in the corner of his eye – too fucking nervous to turn away, what the hell would happen? What if it all goes to shit? What if this is just some weird dream?

"I traced Jason back to this location." Tim says, pulling up schematics onto a screen, "And I found something interesting."

"Oh?" Roy raises an eyebrow, watching Tim take apart Jason's striker on the screen. "About Jason or the ship?"

"Both." The eyes on Tim's shell narrow. "Roy, that striker is Command tech."

"Well – reports do say that he's got skills and technology parallel – "

"Not parallel, Roy. Exact." Tim pulls up other images. "These are the stealth strikers from the war with the Light. They've been decommissioned and banned from active service. Remember why?"

Roy swallows, staring at the images. He'd heard of these strikers, never seen them in action, but he knows about them – it was Dick's dad who said they needed to be banned –

"The Intelligent Life Protection Act." The League, when they were still around, had put that into effect during the tail end of the war. When the technology for the A.I.'s was starting to really come together. "That's a Psy-lock striker."

"And you know what that means." Tim says. Roy's blood runs cold.

During the war against The Light, someone came up with the idea to synch trooper's brain waves to machines. Not like the A.I. calibration technology. A direct link.

It killed dozens of troopers in the testing stages. And when it was over, all the troopers who survived were catatonic.

They had to use A.I.'s or other androids, with the Psy-lock strikers. And then, towards the end, when the A.I. technology developed enough to create androids like Tim – it was stopped altogether.

It violated too many human rights. Too many basic rights for anyone.

"He's an android." Roy whispers. "But how? There's no way he survived the impact. You said so yourself, you couldn't reestablish contact – "

"There is a possibility," Tim's voice is quiet – and. Oh. Roy's hands curl into the arm rests of the chair when Tim pulls up the file. To Roy's knowledge, only Dick and the higher ups of Command have seen it. The footage of the comet impact, Tim's recordings of the events. "I saw the comet before it hit, Roy. There was time. I had to rebalance the ship, reorient it. I had to work through the alarms. I sent messages and contact. Roy – it was static."

"Yeah, because of the magnetic field and disturbance from the comet – "

"What if it wasn't because of the comet?"

"Tim?"

"What if – what if someone had cut my signal? The reason why I couldn't teleport him could have been because I couldn't get a lock on him. I had a read on his sensors all the way until the comet impact." Tim pauses. "In theory, someone could have teleported him out. The shock of being teleported without warning so suddenly while in motion could've stunned him into falling out of synch long enough for me to lose his readings, and for someone else to slide in and block. And then he could be teleported out of range. Once out of range, my sensors would cut automatically. It wouldn't be too hard, Roy."

"That's – that's impossible." But it isn't. It clearly isn't.

"This. This fits." Tim pulls up another file, and it's android files – which is – "I said it was both. Roy. That's Command tech. Roy – on your – on the mission where you lost Speedy. You were researching a possible leak in android technology. You said that you don't remember anything, except waking up with the arm at Base."

"Tim. Stop – "

" – even you have to admit your personality has changed since. In ways that can't be solely explained by PTSD. You've been having head aches. You're more violent – "

"Tim, stop. Tim. What you're saying is treason – "

"There is nothing wrong with the Red Bird. I've run diagnostics on her every hour on the hour since first calibration. There is no reason why I shouldn't have seen that comet, why Command shouldn't have alerted us to the Comet, why I couldn't find it on any files. Mission control should have known that comet was there. It would have been part of the mission briefing, even if it wasn't – they would've been monitoring us. Same with you, Roy. You and Speedy. They should have known and been able to alert us. But they didn't."

Roy breathes and bites his lip before he can say anything he'd regret – a problem Tim is obviously not dealing with as he continues -

"It's no secret that Command has always wanted you and Jason under their heel. The only thing that's kept the two of you out of demotion is your accolades during the war and your reputation among the rest of Command and the populace. During the war, Jason was known as the one man army. He refused to pilot a striker. You were the most resilient trooper. You led so many consecutive raids that some of the other troopers thought you were immortal. They said you could survive anything."

"Tim – "

"To pilot Command tech, you need Command tech." Tim concludes, eyes turning onto him. "Besides, the only way Jason could access my data while operating a striker with that level of precision at the same time is if he had some sort of help. Some sort of modification."

"You are saying," Roy grinds out, eyes closing, "that Command sent Jason off into a suicide mission so they could experiment on him and bring back the strikers. And that my mission went bust so they could experiment on me."

"Human to android conversion. It's always been a hot topic. But the Intelligent Life Protection Act prevents the actual experimentation. Jason Todd is technically dead. No one would be looking for him."

"That doesn't make sense though – why use him? Why not use some no-name nobody? Jason's recognizable. How many fucking times have you and Jayce been on TV or in some sort of video feed? How many times have you popped up at some press conference as body guards or security?"

"That's what I don't understand. But everything – there's a missing piece. Here. I don't know what it is." There's a small dip between Tim's brows as he turns back to the space before them. "But we're going to find out. Get ready. Striker in viewing distance."

-

Things aren't making sense. Jason is -

Confused. Angry? Hurt. Alone? Fuck, what the hell are words, anyway.

He – he can't remember. He does remember. Things are slipping through his fingers, fingers – he has fingers. As soon as he remembers one thing he forgets it trying to remember another.

All he knows is that he has to fight, that there's something he has to fight. He doesn't know why. For who. Or why it has to be him. Hell – Jason doesn't even know what or who he's supposed to be fighting.

There is a ship – he's the ship? Piloting the ship? Seeing the ship?

And there's another ship – the other ship is bigger. Black and sleek, beautiful – glowing green accents.

He thinks that he should be attacking it. Jason doesn't know why – doesn't want to. It's a beautiful ship. And he hasn't been provoked -

He has to attack it. It hurt him. He just can't remember when. But he knows it did. It must have.

"Jayce – " Jason startles, and -

"What?"

"Jayce. Jay. It's me. Jason. It's Tim."

"Tim?"

"Yes, Jason. It's Tim."

Tim is – that feels important, too. Is Tim the reason why he fights? No. Jason doesn't – he doesn't know. He just knows Tim is important, in an integral, good way. The best of ways.

His head hurts.

Does he even have a head?

Jason feels Tim around him. Quiet, gentle.

"I need you to listen to me, Jason. There's something wrong with you. Something happened to you. Something – something bad. And I'm here to help you fix that, okay?"

"I don't – there's nothing wrong with me." But there is. Jason – Jason knows this.

He watches as his ship opens fire against the other one. And then everything tilts – changes, reorients as the ship, a striker, and how does he know that, maneuvers to avoid enemy fire.

"Focus. Focus, Jason. There's something wrong and you know it. What is it? Can you tell me?"

"I don't – know?" Jason doesn't mean for it to sound like a question. But he's unsure. "I don't know. I don't know."

"Okay. Let's work up from that. What do you know?"

"My name is Jason Peter Todd." Huh. Jason didn't actually know he had a middle name. Or last name. "And I don't know how I know that."

Tim seems to breathe against him.

"Well, you aren't wrong. Do you know me, Jason?"

"I – no." Jason scrambles for something, because that feels like it should hurt – "But you're important. I don't know why or how. But you are."

"To you?"

"What?"

"Am I important to you, or am I important for some other reason? Think, Jason. Think."

Jason thinks and – "I don't know!"

Tim flinches, Jason feels it. He doesn't – he doesn't know how. This is. Frustrating. God fucking damn it.

"What do you remember, Jason? Think back." Tim coaxes, "Your name is Jason Peter Todd. I'm important. What else?"

"I – that's a really beautiful ship?"

"That's right. She's the Red Bird. She's your ship – "

"Bullshit, my ship is blue – holy fuck. What?"

"That's right, good. What else?" Tim presses, and Jason – Jason feels like he's being torn in too many directions at once. The fight between the striker and the Red Bird, Tim's coaxing, the confusion and the forgetting – "You can do it, Jason. Come on."

"I don't fucking know, okay? What the fuck is it to you – how are you even in my head, who are you – "

Jason pushes, tries to force Tim away – even though that feels like everything wrong in the world – and -

The color blue. AC/DC. The color green. Trooper. Striker. The War. Light. Dark. The Light. Artificial Intelligence. Androids. Calibration. Red Bird. Comet. Figure eight. Command. Red hair. Freckles. Best friend. Academy. Brother. Big and little. Wing. Robin Hood. Laughter.

"What do you see?" Tim's voice is softer, sounds so far away -

"You're beautiful." Jason whispers, thinks -

(This is the dumbest mission ever. This planetoid is no where near arable, no atmosphere or any form of water forming – as ice or liquid. The temperatures are too low and it's too far from any star for inhabitation. At best it'll be rented to some pretentious business man who'll use it for industry.

He takes the terrain vehicle and turns, sharp, laughing as he makes the figure eight. He can feel Tim's amusement in his head, hears Tim's voice just loud enough over the sounds of the suit -

Jason looks up, to where the ship would be. He imagines the sleek and deadly lines of Red Bird's wings and hull. The deep blue glow of her accents and Tim's data. He thinks about the smile on Tim's face and the eye roll he's making right this very moment.

This is everything Jason's ever wanted. Everything he fought for.

When this is done, they'll head back to base. And he'll try to catch up with Roy – he hasn't seen Roy in ages. He misses him. Jason swears that Roy is going to be someone fucking amazing. He has no fucking clue why he hasn't been promoted yet.

Roy's the kind of charismatic and smart that'll make him just as good, if not better, than Dick. Dick's good with people. But he's too much sentiment and heart. Roy knows how to temper that with brain.

Roy's a lot like Tim, when Jason thinks about it – and that makes him smile. Maybe Tim and Roy will get along, if Jason can manage to set some time apart for them all to hang out -

Jason smiles towards the ship, even though there's no way Tim can see it.

"You're beautiful.")

- "Baby bird?"

And everything doesn't quite fall into place around him, but enough of it does that he can open his eyes and see Tim's face smiling at him. And it's not – it's not quite real. It's something in his head -

"I don't know what's happening." Jason says. And Tim just smiles at him – sad and something quiet, some sort of old and different that Jason doesn't really understand. Because he knows it's Tim. But this Tim is different. Sharper, somehow. And it – it's a shift underneath Jason's feet that makes him uneasy.

"That's okay. We'll work that out. Just like we always di – do." Jason catches the way Tim's features seem to freeze, and he thinks he's seeing the blurry images of a picture. A revelation. "Right now, let's just work on getting you conscious, okay?"

"I'm not conscious?"

And Jason is torn between this and the images of the striker and Red Bird -

"Wait. Who's piloting the Red Bird? Why's the Red Bird green?"

Tim's features twist and Jason just – wants to reach out and touch him.

"It's a long story." Tim says, "But what you need to know right now is that there is someone controlling you. Probably the same person who took Roy."

"Roy?" Everything is spinning, and Jason can't tell up from down, left from right, now from then, thought from fact. "I – "

"Calm down, Jason. Come on. Focus." Tim's voice coaxes him back, "It's hard for you to concentrate, I get that. But that's one of the problems. I need you to fight that, Jason. Can you do that?"

"For you, beautiful?" Jason gets out, dizzy and straining, "I could win wars."

Tim laughs, sharp and painful – "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

What the hell does that mean?

"Alright – focus on me, Jason. You're going to get through this. We're going to get through this. Just like we always do. Think. Think back, Jason."

-

"Tim, I could use a little fucking help – " Roy swears, sensors alarming when the striker almost hits them. The console tells him that Command is in-coming, despite Tim's earlier scramble on their location and the time they bought by the small EMP Tim activated before hitting warp. "Fuck. Progress?"

Tim's voice is tinny and distracted – "There's progress. It's going to be hard, and Jason has to break it from the inside. But there's progress."

"Enough progress for him to stop attacking?"

"Is he still attacking?"

"Yes."

"Then I think you don't need to ask me that question."

"Command ETA in ten. Tim, come on, we're on a time crunch, runt."

"I'm an A.I., not a miracle worker. If you think you can do better why don't you hack into his brain and try to coax him into waking up yourself?"

"I'm not saying I could do better. Make me a miracle, Pinocchio."

There's a minute or so of silence – on Tim's part. There's a slew of head-pounding noise on Roy's side. Including the alert that the Red Bird is declared an enemy ship and that the A.I. pilot has gone rogue, and Roy is an enemy of the peace. Jesus fuck.

The striker is trying to push the Red Bird towards the ice giant, and unfortunately, Roy can't out maneuver the smaller ship. The Red Bird wasn't built for this type of close combat. She isn't a striker, she's mean for long range chase and deploys.

Roy's about to call out to Tim again, when Tim finally responds -

"Still. Not. Clever."

-

It's all so hazy, and it's a fight to keep every memory, every detail. Tim is right there with him, keeping him on track. And Jason is – he's getting the pieces together. It feels like he's fumbling, with hands that won't cooperate, to put together a three dimensional puzzle. It's slow and frustrating work. But it's working.

The Red Bird is taking more damage than she should. What kind of fucking striker is their girl up against?

And who the fuck is piloting her?

The answers are at the tip of Jason's memories, conclusions that are slotting into place and blurred out at the most important parts.

Jason knows that he's a trooper for Command. He was in the war against The Light. They won. A year or so later, Tim was assigned to him as his A.I.

His dad was Bruce Wayne, a former Command leader before the war with The Light.

The Light and The League were opposing political factions. The Light attempted a coup 'd'état against The League. The League won, but the Commanders all died or went MIA in action. New leaders were set up. His brother was one of the main fighters in the war. He got promoted at the end of it.

Roy Harper is older than his brother, but they were in the same trooper regimen during the war. They even had academy classes together. They were put in a lot of the same groups. They fought in the war together.

Jason was there when Roy turned down his promotion. He was there when Roy was assigned his A.I. Roy was there when Jason was assigned Tim. Roy is there every single step of the way, and Roy is everything Jason could ever hope to accomplish.

And privately, Roy is the person Jason would hope Tim would go to if something ever happened to him. Because Roy is the strongest man Jason's ever known, and Tim could use some of that strength.

Jason's putting all of this together, remembering it, and he knows there's so much. So much more. He just has to reach out and grab it.

All the while, Jason is aware of the fact that the Red Bird is slowly being pushed towards what looks like an ice giant, and Jason is doing that. Somehow. He's – he's the one in the striker, and he doesn't know why he's fighting his own fucking ship.

It feels like all of this can come together if he just had that one detail. One little detail that he's missing.

If he could just remember that, everything would make sense -

"Tim?"

"Yes, Jason?"

"Why can I see you?"

Jason can't even see himself. Hell, Jason can't even describe – it's like there's the image of the striker and the Red Bird fighting on one side, and there's Tim, a vague impression that isn't actually seeing so much as it's – it's thinking?

"I'm in your head."

"A…hallucination?"

"Not quite." Tim looks away for a moment and – and Jason thinks.

He is not in the Red Bird. It is flying and maneuvering against Jason, not returning any real fire so much as it's keeping Tim occupied. Since Jason isn't there, and Tim's obviously here, someone else is piloting the Red Bird. The Red Bird is green, not blue.

That means that for some reason or another, someone else is synched to the Red Bird.

That means, someone else, for some reason, is synched to Tim at this very moment.

Why, why is someone else synched to Tim, for what reason would that happen -

Why does Jason's last clear memory end with Tim looking up into space? Why doesn't he remember returning to the ship?

"I'm dead." Jason whispers, and it all slides into place – and unlocks. "Fuck."

-

"Progress? Tim? Anything? Because Command is literally warping in right above us right this second – "

"Roy, I will fucking shoot you in the face. I know for a fucking fact you can pilot better than that. And the Red Bird is a lady, how dare you treat her like your shit piece of junk scrap, Arsenal – "

"Holy fucking hell, Jaybird."

"When you said Command was warping right above us, I didn't think you literally meant right above us."

"Command is here?"

"Command is here."

"Oh – shit, Roy, Tim, you've got to get the fuck out of here. Right now. Get the fuck out – "

"What?"

"Jason what – "

"I'll explain later, but you can't let Command get to you – "

-

Red Bird suddenly goes into lock down – Command's over ride controls. Tim freezes, and there's a garbled series of letters, numbers, cut off sounds before he shuts down. The ship is under Command control – Tim's green replaced with Command's white.

Roy swears, as the Red Bird is flanked and taken into the containment field of the ship-carrier. Jason's own striker is locked onto and taken on.

"Trooper Harper, you are under arrest for violating probation and the illegal use of the long-distance fighting class cruiser Red Bird. Your A.I., Tim, is to be taken in for analysis for any corrupt coding and pending pardon from Command's leaders, will be wiped clean and reprocessed as it has violated the terms of the Intelligent Life Protection Act. Do not resist."

Roy slams his fist against the main console and swears.

It's over.

-

Jason is – he's in isolation. He's in the isolation cells the use for only the most dangerous criminals. And yeah – Jason gets that, now that he remembers.

He was a criminal – but not really. Does it count if you're being controlled via an outside source?

Christ. Jason runs his hands through his hair.

He has to get to Dick – and tell him – tell him about Bruce, about Tim, about -

Fuck. And Roy. He needs to get to Roy. Before anyone else does.

But Tim -

Tim's the priority, right now.

Tim's going to be scrapped, and Jason – Jason can't let that happen. And he knows that Roy won't sit on his hands and let that happen, either.

Jason closes his eyes, and forces himself to breathe. Ignores the strange feeling of other that, that reminds him that he's not really human, anymore.

"Hang in there." Jason says, to himself, to Roy, to Tim. "It's not over. Not even close."