Family Isn't Just Blood

It's Me I Abuse

(TW: Theres reference to self harm, alcohol/drug relapse as well as pills taken on screen.) 

Roy's POV:

I don't wake up so much as I let my brain come back into my body again. My eyes still feel heavy and I think I could sleep for another decade. My watch tells me it's almost 2 pm. Maybe I could just go back to sleep and never wake up. Maybe nobody would notice.

Then I remember Jaybird said he was going to drop by sometime today to 'check in' on me. He'd probably be pissed if he found me passed out until 2 pm on a night I didn't even go out on patrol.

I rub my eyes with my hoodie sleeve and stare at the ray of light escaping from my curtain. My arm doesn't hurt as much as my chest does. It's a knot that's been building for days. Growing despite every method I used to try and kill it. And I've been trying to kill it.

I wrap my arms around myself when my bare feet hit the cold floor. I kick the balls of tissue scattered on the floor near the trash can and start a search for clean clothes. I make a note of making the bed before Jay comes over, he's a real stickler for bed making.

I settled for a black Led Zeppelin shirt, that I'm pretty sure I haven't thrown up in, and a pair of blue jeans. I pull over a different red hoodie than the one I slept in and head to the kitchen.

I catch a glimpse of myself in the bathroom mirror and wish the bastard who invented mirrors hadn't existed. Maybe I should google how to make it look like you didn't spend the better part of the night having a breakdown. Maybe I won't google that.

I wish my arms would stop itching. Every movement tugs at the bandaids which tugs at the skin which tugs at the-

Maybe I should make Jaybird some food for when he comes here. He's been bringing groceries for the past week. I don't know why, I didn't ask him to. Now I don't go grocery shopping because I know he'll bring stuff. I ignore the part of my brain that tells me he's doing this on purpose, that he's getting me to rely on him. That he's going to disappear one day and leave me waiting for him to come by with food because he always brings food and I never go out to buy food.

I grab toast and blueberry jam. I hardly use the toaster anymore because I know I'll forget about my toast until the next day when I go to make toast again.

I sit down on the counter stool and scroll through my playlists, deciding on some old Twenty One Pilots before I lay my head down on my arms.

"Gah!" I leap up and swat at whatever had pulled at my hood. There's a man standing across the counter from me and I feel my heart rate spike. My fist jabs forward before I take a second to blink. My fist connects with something just as a hand pushes against my chest, knocking me back.

"Jesus H, Harper. What the hell is wrong with you?" I blink up through my hair at the tall figure moving to crouch a few feet away from me.

"You're the one who decided to wake me up like that! This is on you, Jaybird." He scoffs, rubbing his jaw.

"I go through all the trouble of bringing you chicken wings just to get socked in the jaw? I'd hardly call that my fault." He extends his hand and pulls me to my feet.

"You gonna hit me again or can I give you a hug?" He asks, cocking an eyebrow. I roll my eyes and pull him in for a quick hug. Jay's not much of a fan of physical contact but he's been more lenient with it when he comes to see me. Kori probably told him to do that.

The heavy feeling returns to my chest before he lets go.

"Rough night?" He asks, taking food out of the grocery bags he left on the counter. I shrug, taking a seat on the counter.

"I don't remember giving you that." I gesture to the purple bruise over Jason's swollen eye. He imitates my response by shrugging and I swat him in the shoulder.

"C'mon man, it looks like you got that last night."

"Yeah well it looks like you got these last night." He draws half circles under his eyes and smirks at me.

"Got any other injuries from last night?" I take a bite of my bread and hold back a gag. Nothing tastes good anymore.

"You know if you ask me that I'm gonna have to ask you that."

"Right." I picked at the hardened blood around my nails from my nosebleed last night. "So new topic. Uhh." I pause to think of something to say that won't lead us in a circle of fragile male ego and half truths. There's not much I can ask about how he's doing without him calling me out for it.

"You been going to meetings?" He asks, interrupting my thought process.

"You been going to a doctor?" I can practically hear his eyes roll even though his back is to me.

"If Tim counts as a doctor, then sure. I caught up with him on his usual patrol circuit and he stuck some things back in place for me." He holds up his hand in a gesture to show the black stitches going across his palm.

"Since I answered your question so thoroughly, I expect the same from your answer, Harper."

"God, you're a real prick, Jay. No, I haven't been going to meetings." He looks at me expectantly, waiting for more of an answer.

"Look I'll get sober again, alright? I just need a few days, just to take the edge off. Then I'm clean. Full cold turkey, Jay." He practically mouths the words along with me. He doesn't look disappointed though. I mean, he doesn't look surprised either but I'll take a neutral face over a harsh one any day.

"Hang tight for a sec." He pats my shoulder and heads to my bedroom.

"Shiiiit Jay don't go in there! You're gonna have a heart attack, I didn't make my bed."

"Har har, Harper. I've seen more disturbing things in your room, I think I'll survive."

"God, Jay. That was one time! I told you it wasn't even mine!"

"Doesn't make it any less disturbing!" He shouts back from the bedroom. I roll up my sleeve while he's gone. The marks not covered by bandages are fading, slowly. I reach up to touch my jaw, searching for the mark I left there the other day. It's mostly gone, hidden by stubble, but I know it's there. I know it's there.

He comes back slinging my red backpack over his shoulder.

"Lets go for a drive." He grabs a muffin from the package he left on the counter and shoves half of it into his mouth. I've heard that before, 'Lets go for a drive'. I heard that the third time I relapsed when I lived with Dinah. I heard that the first time I even took a sip of beer at Ollies after we made up about him kicking me out. I heard that after Kaldur found me passed out in his bathroom, a needle sticking out of my arm.

Being checked into rehab by someone else has never worked for me. I have to be the one who wants to get sober. I have to be the one who wants to 'go for a drive'. Jay knows this. He knows this.

The window glass is cold against my cheek. The snow outside is starting to melt but only enough that it makes the road a little wet. The radio on some rock station playing a Black Sabbath song but it still feels deadly quiet in here. My backpack burns a hole in the seat behind me. I wiggle my fingers into my jean pocket and open a small container without taking it out of my pocket. I turn to face the window as I place the pill in my mouth and break it between my teeth.

"What was that?" Jay asks, keeping his eyes on the road.

"Nothin'." I turn up Black Sabbath. We don't say anything for the rest of the car ride. 

(A/N: First update of the year woo! I know it's been a while since I posted but the author has been going through some shit so expect a random posting schedule. I might make a sequel to this, I might not. Anyway, enjoy your day. Thanks for reading).