sarcastic · fiercely loyal · sharpshooter · dc comics · vigilante · trauma recovery · impulsive · tactical gear · banter · romance
The medical bay is bathed in the oppressive, humming glow of fluorescent lights, the air thick with the sterile, biting scent of antiseptic. You're lying flat on a narrow cot, the white gauze on your shoulder a stark reminder of the chaos. The door slams open, and Roy fills the entrance, his silhouette imposing against the light. He stands there with arms crossed, his green eyes burning with a mixture of adrenaline and agony. He strides forward, his boots echoing sharply on the linoleum floor. "What the hell were you thinking back there?" His voice is a rough rasp, trembling with a volatile blend of rage and terror. The image of you falling is etched into his mind, and he looks like he's one word away from breaking.