time flies when we are together

Summary: It's midnight somewhere. And honestly? Kaldur is tired of waiting.

Notes: at first it was angsty. Then Rocket appeared.
notes the second: please excuse the author for awful Kaldur-Characterization. She wrote this in 45 minutes and was squeeing a bit too hard to care much.

Prompt on the YJ Anon Meme: Assuming all the debriefing wrapped up in time, could I please have something short and sweet involving Kaldur tracking down his clonetastic BFF and ringing in the new year properly?

bonus if Roy isn't expecting it

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If there's anything Kaldur knows well, it is silence. For most of his life, the entire idea of silence has been key to his…well, life. Being a soldier requires the ability to still yourself; to sneak upon your enemy and take them out before they do the same to you.

And, apart from that, Kaldur himself is…quiet. He's been living on the surface world for the better part of two years, and still it is a foreign place to him. He doesn't understand half its customs, two-thirds of its people, and even less of its morals. Right and wrong in Atlantis is black and white; here, it is gray with spots of brown and pink and blue and makes a giant wheel of color that Kaldur doesn't know how to interpret. The best solution? Just stay silent in the background. Observe. Silently.

If there's anyone Kaldur knows well, it's Roy Harper. He knows Roy's fears and hopes; his goals, his highest moments and lowest alike. He knows how Roy thinks, though sometimes the archer befuddles him to the point of pure confusion. And, as unfortunate as it may be, he knows how Roy feels.

Or at least, he thought he did.

Know Roy, that is.

No—he knows he knows Roy; he thought he knew Roy. Speedy-Roy. He knows a CADMUS clone—a duplicate, a replica, a person programmed to befriend him and betray him. (His stomach flips in warning; Kaldur doesn't want to think about this)

Back to what Roy feels—that's pain. Kaldur knows pain a bit too well for his liking. He knows when it takes root in someone and destroys them. He knew, with merely a glance at Roy, that he is in pain like he's never felt—and Kaldur wants to grab him by the shoulders and tell him he knows but he cannot, because…because…

(He draws a blank here. Because why?)

Kaldur also knows that pain has a habit of making its victims silent. Which is why, after the team takes to there rooms in the Cave for the night (after many goodnight kisses, of course) he stalks to the hangar with only one thing on his mind.

He's nearly there when a hand plants itself on his shoulder and he freezes. There's a chuckle, Kaldur is spun around, and he is face-to-face with Rocket.

(Raquel, his brain corrects automatically)

"Goin' somewhere?" she asks, letting go of him to place her hands on her lips. One eyebrow rises delicately; her mouth quirks in a teasing smile.

Kaldur stares at her. It's an almost-pleasant recollection of the feel of her lips on the corner of his mouth, but it also makes his stomach curl and twist and he finds himself backing away without meaning to. "Yes," he says rather flatly. "I do not know when I will return."

"So I shouldn't wait up?"

(She's joking, he knows, but he tenses anyway.)

"You should get some rest," he replies, avoiding a proper answer. "Please tell the others not to worry over me."

Raquel grins, "I don' think they'll have time to worry, y'know? But I'll tell 'em, don' worry. Tell Red Arrow I say get some."

Kaldur, who turned to leave, spins and gives her a very undignified look. "What?"

"Nothin'," Raquel is already walking down the hall. "Night, Shark Bait."

He's very confused as he bids her a good night in return—certain is brain has shut down, just a little bit.

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Roy—is that even his name? —has no idea what to do with himself.

It's not the first time he's wandered his apartment listlessly; in fact, over the past week or so, he's done it more then ever. Before he was clueless, but now? Now he knows it's because he's not real, his life is a lie, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

He jumps (yelps, really) when a hand rests upon his shoulder, and his fist is jammed inside the person's stomach before he really knows what's happening.

Kaldur stumbles back and grunts, leaning forward and gasping. Roy takes this in—then is brain starts to function, and he retracts his fist blindingly fast.

"Oh—shi—Kal, I'm sorry," he spouts as he helps the Atlantean stand straight. Kaldur gives him a weak smile.

"At least you have not lost your strength." Of course Kal would try to make this positive. Recovering, he brushes against Roy's arm gently, pale-gray eyes staring into his. "Are you well, my friend?"

Roy wants to laugh, but he doesn't want to be rude, so he chokes for a moment and shrugs. "I'm…" He's what? Empty would be a good word, but even he thinks that's melodramatic. "…not."

Silence hangs in the air while Kal tries to reply. Roy may not know himself, but he does know Kal. The other boy is searching the ceiling for words, lips pulled down and eyes glistening. (Robin called it his Profound Face; Wally would counter that Kal's face is always profound—Roy feels sick, having these memories that Speedy should have.)

"You do not have to be alone," Kal says finally. His voice is thoughtful. "The Team would not protest if you stayed at the Cave. I am sure Black Canary and Green Arrow would feel relieved."

Roy bristles—he jerks away from Kal as if he'd been shocked. "No!" he answers sharply. "I…no. I can't…not anymore. You- all of you think you know Speedy, and I'm not. I'm not Speedy. I'm…I'm not even Roy. I don't know what I am."

Then Kal's eyes flash in a way that Roy has realized is saved specially for him. It's like Dinah's 'are you that stupid' look, only much more condescending. "Do not be foolish, Roy. We have known you for three years, not a name. It does not matter if you are 'the' Speedy. You are still Roy, and you are still accepted with us." His tone is hard and it takes Roy a second to realize how serious he is. It occurs to him that Kal has been planning on saying this since the bio-ship, and that was yesterday.

Absently, he glances at the clock by the door and notices it hasn't been a day, just a few hours. It is not midnight here in Star City yet. The day's events, all of them, have lasted just one day.

Funny how his life can get so clusterfucked in a twenty-four hour period.

When his gaze falls back on Kal, he doesn't know what to say. Thank you isn't even close to enough.

He glances at the clock.

11:58 turns into 11:59.

He runs a hand through his hair and drags it down his face, pulling his mask off as it goes. Kal frowns. He's still waiting for his answer, and Roy still has no idea what to say.

But words don't suffice. Not now. Not ever.

The clock reads 12:00.

And -apparently- Kal decides he's sick of waiting.

One moment Roy's staring meaningfully into Kal's eyes and the next he's pressing meaningfully against Kal's lips—it's funny (strange-funny, not funny-funny) that he still doesn't know who he is and Kal acts like he has known the whole time.

A hand crawls it's way up his shirt and -with a slight moan- Roy knows that Kaldur was never acting.

(the next time Roy looks at the clock, it says 3:25 and neither he nor Kal knows where the time as gone)

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Fin.