lifeingeneral: Bird in a Cherry Tree (Default)
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Title: A Thoughtful Interlude
Rating: PG-13
Pairings/Characters: Roy Harper
Warnings: I don't think it's triggery but does deal with the aftermath of Roy being stabbed.
Summary: He had always wondered what it would be like to die.

A/N: Short piece I wrote about Roy to try and get a handle on his characterization. As we don't have a whole lot of backstory for the poor boy yet just go with the flow, lol. ;)



Roy clenched his eyes shut, his trembling hands pressed tightly to his side trying his best to stem the blood seeping from the wound. He grasped the gritty concrete wall behind him and slowly hefted himself up into a standing position. A move that sent his entire nervous system into a screaming fit of pain.

"Sonouvabitch." He rasped out, he heard footsteps pounding against the pavement to his left and turned the best he could to watch the darkened figure of the woman he just saved running away. "Sure, yeah, you’re welcome…"

A low groan escaped his chapped lips as he shifted most of his weight to the arm against the wall for support. Roy looked down the darkened road ahead of him and clenched his eyes shut in agony. He wasn’t anywhere near the clinic. He opened his eyes slightly and stared down at the blood still weeping through his fingers and knew he wasn’t going to make it anywhere in time. A dry laugh escaped him. He wanted to say it was ironic that he started out in The Glades as a bad guy stealing from the poor to try and stay afloat and now he was going to die a poor man trying to do some good and help the people he once thought owed him the world.

He hated irony. She was a cruel, heartless bitch if there ever was one. Or bastard, if irony was of the male persuasion. He choked back a chuckle that attempted to bubble out of him. Roy pressed his hand tighter against his side. The blood loss was making him slap happy, he realized. The eighteen year old shook his head to try and clear his thoughts but ended up gripping the wall tighter when the world around him began to tilt and sway.

"Damn it Harper, Focus." Clenching his jaw, Roy shuffled forward a few feet before he had to stop and lean his whole body against the concrete wall, his abdominal muscles were screaming at him to sit the fuck down and relax. And he wanted to so damned badly that he subconsciously sagged against the concrete and slid a few inches down the wall. He’d rest for just a few seconds, long enough to gather the strength he needed to get back up and walk. A wave of lassitude washed over him and Roy blinked sluggishly against the black spots that now crept into his peripheral. Roy slid further down the wall till he was sitting against the cold cement of the sidewalk; worn out, he dropped his forehead against the top of his knees, to tired to even hold his head up.

He could feel something pressing against the space between his shoulder blades, a gentle warmth that left him feeling comforted and able to breath easier. He thought he heard a familiar voice, one he hadn’t heard since he was a kid, but it could have easily been his addled brain seeking a sort of twilight contentment as it began to shut down everything it didn’t need to survive.

He’d always wondered what dying was like. What people went through in those last few moments. If they were afraid of what came after, if they were angry at having their life cut short, or if they just accepted the cold hand of death. It’d always made him curious, it used to creep his foster parents out when he would ask such morbid questions. The nice ones used to tell him that little ones needn’t worry about such things. Others would, well, if he was dying he didn’t want to think about the others.

It was getting harder to keep his eyes open and the warmth spreading across his back wasn’t helping. It made everything more difficult. A few more tired blinks and Roy felt the same warmth from between his shoulders begin to seep into his appendages. It was oddly comfortable. He hummed in contentment before slowly drifting. As he fell into a dreamless sleep he thought he heard the shrill trill of a siren somewhere in the distance.
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LifeInGeneral

August 2017

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