Work Text:
“What Is Beauty?”
If you were to ask Jason Todd what he thought beauty was he would more than likely scoff at you. In fact, he would probably ignore you. Though, if he were to answer you, he would tell you that the world is an ugly place and that there isn’t any beauty. He would be lying, though. He did think there was beauty in the world, more specifically beauty in some of the people.
Jason saw the beauty in the Titans whenever he would visit with his brother. There was beauty in how they all deeply cared for each other; how they cared enough to help almost complete strangers, just because they could. He watched how they all talked and joked with each other. He would often cut in with some sort of sarcastic remark. He thought Starfire had the prettiest laugh and often found himself watching the way her fire-like hair would move. He would also catch himself looking at Wonder Girl, the first of the Titans to not treat him like Nightwing’s annoying little brother. He was grateful for her. She was probably one of the only Titans to have a fully functioning brain cell. He definitely thought of Starfire and Wonder Girl when he thought of beauty. In all honesty, he probably had a thing for strong girls who could beat him up. He definitely did. And then there was him: Speedy.
Roy Harper.
Jason certainly saw beauty in him. He never meant to stare, but he found it hard to stop himself, especially at the way Roy’s piercing green eyes would focus in on whatever little invention he was tinkering with. The invention at hand could have been anything, though Jason assumed he was either working on arrows, something fire related, or maybe even both. He watched as Roy tuned out the world. There wasn’t a thing in the world that could distract Roy when he was ‘in the zone’. Kid Flash could be running circles around him, causing a mini tornado and he wouldn’t lose focus for even a split second. Roy stayed fairly still while he was working, most of the movement was in his hands and arms. If Jason really wanted to he could probably count every last freckle on the older male; that’s how still he was. Jason liked Roy for many reasons. For instance when he talked to Roy he felt heard, most people would brush off whatever he had to say or just ignore him, but not Roy. He would listen to him, even give him feedback. Whenever Jason was fighting with his dad, Roy would listen. They could relate to each other. Both of them were street kids who were adopted by billionaires who could never figure out how to handle them. And while yes, Jason saw all the beautiful things in Roy, he couldn't ignore the not so beautiful things, such as the dark eyebags he got from staying up days on end perfecting his inventions, often having to be reminded to eat and drink by his fellow teammates. They had long given up on getting him to sleep. Jason tried to avoid looking at Roy’s arms, specifically the inner elbow. He knew Roy had been an addict like his mom. He knew Roy had hit rock bottom once or twice. He had never witnessed it personally, but he knew it was true by the way Roy’s teammates stared at him. It was subtle, almost impossible to differentiate unless you’ve been on the receiving end of it yourself- unless you knew the judgement and pity you felt crawling on the back of your neck; unless you knew the look. And Jason knew it, intimately. He would bet Roy did, too. He always got defensive when he got that look, telling them all he was better, he wasn’t itching for it, he hadn’t been using. The defensiveness to his tone told Jason otherwise. He always told his brother when he thought Roy was using and unfortunately he was always right. Jason grew up with that kind of stuff, so of course he was always right. It wasn’t a fun thing to confront him about, but it was much better than letting it go unchecked. Roy didn’t have an easy life and he didn’t have healthy coping mechanisms, either. He would drink, smoke, and shoot up. If his friends didn’t look out for him, he probably would’ve been dead by now. He was trying to get better; everyone could tell. He really was trying, which isn’t something that could be said for most heroin addicts. Jason could tell he wasn’t really doing it for himself. Roy was getting clean for the people he loved. He cared. He didn’t want to hurt the people he loved, another beautiful thing about him in Jason’s eyes.
Six months had passed since Jason had died and come back. It had been over a year since he last saw the Titans and now Jason was convinced the world was an ugly place. He had died at the hands of the Joker. His own mother turned him over to that green-haired bastard. She wasn’t lucky enough to come back. The Joker was still at large. He was beyond angry. He had died. He was replaced by a new Robin even. He wanted revenge. The world is a dark ugly place and he was going to start taking out the bad guys permanently. Once his family had found out he was alive, they had tried to explain and reason with him- emphasis on tried. He didn’t ever want to go back. He thought he was making real progress by taking out the bad guys. Fear alone wasn’t enough to stop crime, there had to be bloodshed. That was the only way to get rid of the ugliness in the world.
After a year or two, Jason had mellowed out quite a bit. He was talking to his family again and while they forgave him, Jason struggled to forgive himself. He was brash. He hurt people he cared about. The kid who replaced him (the kid he nearly killed) was a good kid. Jason will never understand how he managed to forgive him. The world was ugly and so was he.
He didn’t see Roy again for another year. Jason thought he was over his childish crush on him, but the second his eyes met Roy’s, it all came flooding back to him. He almost turned around and left. Almost. Jason was happy to see that Roy was clean. Roy had gotten his life together. He looked much more lively. Jason’s heart almost pounded out of his chest when Roy flashed his signature, arrogant smirk. He didn’t show it though. He rolled his eyes at the freckled man. Roy hadn’t changed much. He was still the same warm welcoming presence, and Jason was still drawn to him like a moth to a candle. He had the same beautiful eyes. His hair got longer, though it was tucked into a dark green trucker hat. It was the ugliest hat Jason had even seen, though Roy had never been known for his sense of fashion. Jason and Roy talked for hours catching up on what they had missed in each other’s lives. Jason found himself looking at the new tattoos Roy had gotten. His right arm had a scorpion labeled poison over a skull with a bow and arrow sticking out of its mouth, though Jason’s favorite was the demotic-looking bat with a long thorny vine for a tail that turned into an arrow. That tattoo had the label of “pesadilla”. Jason sat, memorizing every last one of Roy’s features. He memorized his tattoos, his eyes, the peach fuzz on his jawline, his voice, his expressions, his smile, his hand gestures, even his fidgets; anything he could take in because to Jason, Roy was beauty.
Beau·ty
/ˈbyo͞odē/ a combination of qualities, such as shape, color, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight.
Or in Jason’s case, Roy Harper.