Dick wondered how he kept reuniting with people like this, and why they always seemed to save his life when a gun was pointed at his head. At least this time Dick was coherent enough to move the moment the arrow hit the gun and knocked it from the crook's hand. He leapt forward, sending the guy into unconsciousness with an ecrisma stick.

Dick tied him to a light pole, and the moment he stood up, Roy was ziplining towards him. When he dropped down next to him, it was all Dick could do not to sigh.

Man, he was so not ready for this conversation. He hadn't even had time to talk to Kaldur, yet.

"Thanks, for the help," Dick said with a small smile.

Roy shrugged. "Hey, I was in the neighborhood and I thought you could use a hand."

"In the neighborhood?" Dick asked, is eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Roy, we're in Gotham."

"So?"

Dick shook his head. "Did you need something, Roy?"

Roy looked at him, and it was like he was looking through Dick. To be honest, Dick hadn't had much contact with Roy since June. When Dick had retreated to Gotham, had taken up the Batman mantle once again and let his friends' anger fester without a word, Roy had let him go.

The thing was, though, Roy had texted him, sent him updates about Lian, about Oliver, and Dinah, about his life, but he never asked any questions. Never seemed to expect an answer. He was just there. They weren't often—every couple weeks or so—but sometimes they were this beacon in the darkness of the cowl that usually only Tim and Alfred could manage to be.

"Green Arrow told me Batman was back."

"So you knew."

Roy cleared his throat and looked away. "Yes."

Dick had suspected, but he'd never confirmed anything. Bruce had disappeared on that off-world mission over four months ago, had only been back about a little over a month, and he'd told practically no one. The Justice League had known—at least, the founding members had, and Dick did his part to keep it that way—and Wally storming into the kitchen all that time ago demanding Dick to step up had proved that the Justice League had kept Batman's mission a secret, even from the Team.

Roy, though. Dick had suspected from the very beginning that Roy knew exactly where his head had been at. And Dick could only really figure that Roy knew about Bruce leaving him the responsibility of the cowl.

Dick did sigh this time. "Rooftop?"

"That would probably be a good idea."

"So why are you here?" Dick asked when they settled up on the roof of a nearby building. The chill wasn't too bad, considering it was November, but Dick hoped to make this meeting short. "Did you just come to find out whether I was still Batman?"

Roy sighed. "No," he said, a heaviness to his voice that Dick hadn't been expecting. "No, nothing like that. I talked to Kaldur, actually. He said that you're planning on rejoining the Team."

Dick blinked. "I haven't even talked to Kaldur yet," he said. "The only people I've told are Tim and Barbara, and neither of them would tell when I specifically told them not to. I mean, Bruce doesn't even know."

"It's not like it's hard to figure out, Dick," Roy told him, and he leaned back against the rooftop access building. "You even told Garfield that you were coming back."

"I didn't saw when," Dick argued back weakly.

"You didn't have to," Roy said. He titled his head back and looked at the dark sky. The Gotham sky, ever overcast, was devoid of stars, the moon half-hidden by clouds, and Dick wondered if Roy was just searching for an excuse not to look at him. "I know things have been tough for you."

"Yeah," Dick said, but he didn't elaborate, waiting for Roy to get to the point.

"What are you planning, Dick?"

Dick startled. "Wait, what?"

"You're planning something," Roy said, his words slow and careful, but he still wasn't looking at Dick. "You texted me back for the first time in four months yesterday. You're up to something."

"It's not—I'm not doing anything like before," Dick said, his eyes burning behind his domino mask. "I swear, Roy. I'm not."

"I didn't say you were."

"But you—"

"Dick." Roy finally turned back to him, and even with a mask his gaze was a comfort. It didn't burn like Wally's did, or Bruce's did sometimes, and it brought back images that Dick wasn't sure how to handle.

They'd been really good friends way back when. Six years ago, before they'd formed the Team, before everything had gone to hell, it had been Dick, Wally, Kaldur, and Roy. They'd been really good friends, and Dick had always looked up to Roy, even though it had been Dick that had started this child superhero epidemic. Roy had always seemed to understand how hard everything could be to be the ward of a rich superhero with a lot of issues.

Even when Roy had battled himself during those five years, he'd kept trying to reach his goal. He'd gone about it the wrong way, but he'd been right about the original Roy Harper in the end. And he was still someone that Dick knew he could lean on no matter what.

"I know that you're not planning anything like what you did before," Roy continued. "You're still suffering the consequences of making those hard choices, and I don't think you could ever do that to yourself, to anybody else, ever again. Not in the way you did it before, at least."

Dick didn't know what to say to that, so he kept quiet.

Roy blew out a heavy breath. "Look, I'm going to be real with you. I know I'm not really one to talk, but I don't think you went about things quite right. Still, you had good intentions, and you made a few hard choices. That's fine. So what?"

"Are you mad at me?" Dick asked. "For faking Artemis' death? For sending Kaldur undercover?"

"No," Roy said, and he sounded honest. "I'm mad that you didn't tell me. Maybe I wasn't in the right place at the time, and that's fine. But later, when I got my head on straight, you didn't say a word, Dick."

"I thought I was doing the right thing." Dick felt almost hollow inside. Bruce had berated him, too, but he hadn't sounded this calm about it, or this honest. Bruce hadn't even given him a chance to speak. "I planned and planned, and I couldn't think of another way to stop the Light and the Invasion without putting people in danger."

"We know the risks," Roy said. "Just, trust your friends, next time. Okay?"

Dick sent Roy a shaky smile. "Yeah, I know. I've already gotten yelled at by a few people already."

That seemed to frustrate Roy, though. "Damn it, Dick. You know I don't mean to lecture you about this. I just want you to understand that I'm on your side. I trust you, so will you show a little trust in me and tell me what you're planning?" Roy asked.

Dick was silent for a moment before he said, "Clark told me that I should give everyone a chance. Talk to them and hear out their feelings."

"Well that's stupid."

"Why?" Dick asked. "He's right, isn't he?"

Roy scoffed. "I don't think it's you who should be giving people a chance. I'm not Wally, Dick. I get that you were under a lot of pressure and stress to stop the invasion and stop the Light, but no one stopped to see what it was doing to you. You should have had people there helping you. I should have been there for you, like you've been trying to be there for me."

"Roy, you were having a hard time dealing with—"

"But you were there," Roy cut in. "You were having a hard time, too, but you were still there to try to get me back on track. You were hurting from your own choices, too, and no one took ten minutes to do anything but blame you for it."

Dick let his shoulders slump. Kaldur had something similar. He'd apologized to Dick for not being there to help him. Wounds were wounds, Kaldur had told him. Mental, physical, or emotional, they still mattered. And Kaldur had apologized for not realizing how messed up he'd been.

"Yeah, okay," Dick said. "Sorry for not clueing you in."

Roy let the tension drain from his body and relaxed back against the wall. "It's okay, Dick. Just tell me what you're planning, and I'll see if I can lend a hand, okay?"

Dick smiled. "Yeah. Thanks, Roy."

"No problem."

We're finally getting somewhere.