AN: Okay, so this is something that's bothered me for forever, how they handled Roy's addiction and such and how the others reacted to it. I'd have to peg it on the time period they were writing the issue in, as demonizing addiction, even forced, would have been 'the good thing'. So, I've taken it upon myself to fix this shit up. You can't tell me Dick, who was one of Roy's best friends and commonly saw people with forced addictions, wouldn't understand the situation and try to help him. It was just Bad Writing, imho.

Now, it's been a while and my memory is shit, so I might be off about a few things but oh well. This is shorter than usual and cuts off kind of abruptly, sorry. Writing Is Hard lmao

The Call

The worst part is looking back and knowing that I was wrong
Help me find the right way up or let me take the wrong way down
Will you straighten me out or make me take the long way around
I took the low road in, I'll take the high road out

Something had been eating at Dick for quite some time, but no more than it was now. He'd look at Jaye and he couldn't help but think of another dark-haired little girl with a criminal for a mother. How long had it been since he last saw Lian? Roy? After everything that's happened, all those thoughts of just...just ending it, he realized one of his biggest regrets would be leaving that particular bridge burned. The guilt tore at him for how he treated the one he once called a brother in his hour of need. Dick knew he needed to make amends but how? How does one even look into the eyes of someone they hurt so deeply and even apologize? Even now, Dick felt the burn of shame coursing through him as he looked at the cellphone sitting on the counter. It felt as if nothing he could possibly say would even begin to make up for his words, his cold shoulder. Sure, he wasn't the only person to turn his back on Roy during his fight with addiction, but that didn't mean they could share the blame.

For days now, he thought about calling Roy and spilling everything, but he'd always choke when he grabbed the phone. God, what he'd give to have those days back when he was on a team with Roy and they could laugh about nearly everything. Roy, Wally, Garth, and Donna had been his best friends. Sure, they weren't easy times, not by any stretch of the imagination, but damn if they weren't good. Now? Now he spoke to Wally every now and again. Garth was all but out of his life at this point. Hell, he only spoke to Donna as much as he did now because Jason had called her when he was injured. She made sure to stick closer once she found out about Jaye. The heartbreak in her eyes when he woke up from his injuries was painful. But Roy was the worst. He hasn't spoken to the man in years, not that Dick could blame him.

At first, it had been mutual. Dick was young and full of self-righteous indignation over his friend's heroin addiction. Rather than lending a hand, as any good friend would, he left. With time, he realized just how horribly he had handled it. How could he call himself a hero or a friend when that's how he reacted? It was like Bruce's voice had been echoing in his mind over and over and over. Growing under the tutelage of the Bat gave Dick some very black-and-white perspectives of drugs and those that used them. But nothing was ever truly black and white, was it? He could remember busting human trafficking rings where people had been forcefully given drugs to make them dependent and easier to control. How was Roy any different? He didn't ask for the injection the first time. God, and Dick acted like it was his fault? There was nothing - nothing - Dick could say or do that would justify that.

But that's just it, isn't it? It's not about justifying his actions. He was wrong. It was about admitting it, owning up to his mistakes, and trying to make amends. He couldn't change what he said or did, but he could try and...and what? Make it better? Who was he kidding? Roy deserved better, always had. The odds of him wanting to even hear from Dick were slim to none. Still, doing nothing about it was just as bad. He had to at least try, right? Try and let Roy know that...that he was sorry. Fuck, he was so sorry. Even if Roy cursed him all the way to Hell and back, shut him out for good, he had to at least try.

Thinking it, however, was so much easier than actually doing it. Claiming his mistakes was harder than he'd care to admit. And here he thought any and all of his pride had been washed away with the rain on that rooftop. He sat at on his couch and stared at the phone as if it'd bite him should he try to grab it. Dick was so focused on trying to get up the courage to call Roy, he didn't even notice Jason creep in through the window, per usual.

His brother stood and watched him for a bit, somewhat concerned that Dick was falling back into one of his 'episodes'. He thought Jason didn't notice how he'd stare off sometimes and get lost in the pain of his own memories and torments. It was sad to see that look in his eyes. Sad and fucking terrifying. It was a look he saw before, out on the streets. The look of someone who was debating if life was more painful than death. If they should just take those extra pills or make that next cut a little too deep. Sometimes, Jason was worried he'd come into his apartment one day and find Dick dead. How could he tell Dick that no, death wasn't a release? He'd been there and done that. In his personal opinion, it was nothing to write home about. With a forced leisurely pace, he dropped onto the armchair and startled Dick out of his trance. Ordinarily, that'd be a personal achievement, but it was just another note of worry right now.

"That phone talk shit or something? You're staring like it offended you."

Dick just gave a soft huff that could be taken for amusement, but it seemed about as forced as Jason's ease.

"Yeah, something like that."

That got Jason to lean a little closer. Something was definitely wrong with Dick.

"Bad phone call?"

Personally, he was really hoping it hadn't been Bruce or that bitch. He's already found letters from her trying to get to him. Dick was quiet for a stretch longer, which didn't exactly put Jason's fears to rest. Then, he shook his head slowly and there was that look again.

"No, not yet."

That...was not exactly reassuring and entirely too vague for his liking.

"Well, someone's being cryptic today. You been hangin' around Xanadu's lately?"

The joke fell on deaf ears as Dick just continued to stare at the phone with the look of a man on death row. It was really starting to freak Jason out. Before he could ask just what was wrong, Dick spoke up.

"I need to call Roy."

That wasn't what Jason had been expecting, in all honesty. Roy Harper, that's a name he hasn't thought of in quite some time. Jason had a long, long shitlist and Roy managed to land himself on it back during his short tenure as Robin. The Titans hadn't been the most welcoming crew when they were introduced to the newest Boy Wonder. They treated Jason as if he were trying to replace Dick and they made sure to let it be known that they didn't want a new Robin. Not all had been mean, but Roy hadn't exactly been accepting. It was hurtful to the teenager and Harper still left a bad taste in his mouth when he thought back on it. A little of his irritation for the red head leaked into his voice.

"Why?"

Dick finally tore his eyes from the phone and looked at Jason questioningly. So he managed to pick up on his distaste but not his entrance into the apartment? Something about the archer sure was fucking with him.

"I messed up. Bad. I need to...to apologize."

That was a bit of a surprise. Bats and apologies went together about as well as they did with healthy coping mechanisms and happy families. What in the hell did he do to Roy to have him this bent out of shape? Jason hadn't cared to keep tabs on Harper, or any of the Arrows, really, after his resurrection. Jason made a motion for him to keep going. Dick looked a bit more tormented as he floundered for words. Shit, must be bad.

"I...I abandoned him when he needed me. Fuck, nearly all of us did. He...these guys got him years ago. Got him addicted to heroin and we all just...we treated him like shit for it. Left him to deal with it by himself. I acted like it was his choice. How the hell do I apologize for that?"

At this point, Dick had his head in his hands and it was clear it was tearing him up. Jason was kind of glad it was. He was a first-hand witness to the horrors of addiction. His own mother OD'ed when he was just a kid. Finding her body still haunted him. Much as he might hate the way Harper treated him, he felt for him. To the outside world, heroes were immune to being assholes. But Jason knew otherwise. Knew how hypocritical they were. It disgusted him so deeply.

"Apologize? There is no apologizing for that. How the fuck did you guys even think that was okay? You know what, I don't even want to know. Heroes and hypocrisy go hand-in-hand, it seems. But, I guess doing something is better than doing nothing. Pick up the phone, let him know you want to talk and pray he doesn't kick your ass to the curb."

Dick didn't look any better, not that Jason was aiming for a pep talk. He was just a tad too irritated to be nice. Personally, he wanted to go deeper with his admonishments, but he was already kind of afraid Dick was going to throw himself off a building without a line to catch him as is. There were definitely others to bitch at, though; namely a mister Oliver Queen. Last Jason knew, that was supposed to be Roy's adoptive father. Surprise, another father figure who didn't add up. Huh, looks like they had more in common than he originally thought, not that he planned on inviting Roy over for beers anytime soon.

Making up his mind, Dick snatched the phone and started to pace as he dialed the number given to him by Oracle. Asking her for anything was still beyond painful, but it was unavoidable. She had become the eyes and ears of the hero community. The tension was still strong between the two. Before he could fall down that particular rabbit hole, he hit dial and listened to the ringing with growing uncertainty. Did Roy know it was Dick calling? Did Babs give him a heads up? Was he ignoring the call on purpose? Should he try again? Should he just hang up? Before he could make a decision, Roy's voice filled his ear, nearly giving him a heart attack.

"This is Roy Harper. Sorry I couldn't make it to the phone. Leave a message at the beep."

The beep came sooner than Dick was ready for. He still didn't know quite what to say.

"Hey Roy, this is Dick. Long time, no talk. I uh...I just wanted to see if maybe we could talk. If not, that's cool. I understand. I'm...I want to apologize...Anyway, if you do, this is my number. Bye."

He hung up the phone and realized his hands were shaking like a leaf. It was short and he didn't even talk to Roy, but it still made him feel like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. When did he become such a wreck? Talking was his forte. Everyone would comment on how he was a chatterbox, how he knew what to say and when to say it, how charismatic he was. Now he felt like holding a conversation with anyone was a monumental effort. Everything felt like an effort anymore.

Dick put the phone down as if it were red hot and ran a shaky hand through his hair. Then, he turned on his heel and went to Jaye's room. He found himself doing this anytime things got to be too much. He'd go to his daughter and just talk to her. Even when she was screaming or had a cold or when he was running on fumes, she still managed to calm him. She reminded him why he got up every single day. Was this how it was for Roy? Did Lian keep him going? Was she what kept his head above water? Dick hoped so, because he couldn't imagine how much worse it'd be if he didn't have Jaye, or Jason, to keep him steady. Fuck, he needed to fix things. If they could be fixed.

Jaye was fast asleep, unaware that her father decided to sit on the floor next to her crib. Dick rested his head against the wooden bars and just watched her.

"Daddy might have someone for you to meet, Jaye. If...if he wants to. You'd like him, he's funny. And he has a daughter too. You two could play together. That'd be fun, right?"

His voice bordered on desperate and fell flat of hopeful. Once more he was grateful that she wouldn't be able to pick up on how pathetic her father was. He dreaded the day she realized it. Dick closed his eyes and thought back on 'the good old days'. Shit, when did he get to this point? He wasn't even that old, for christ's sake! Sure felt like he was, though. His bones ached on bad days from constant abuse, getting out of bed was more and more difficult, the prospect of tomorrow was colder than he'd like, and he's seen more in ten years than most see in three lifetimes. Hell, he's been outliving his friends and family. That, in particular, killed him. These good people were dying while he was still here. Where was the fairness? He didn't deserve to keep going while they lay in the dirt. What did he do but ruin? Fail? He was...he was poisonous.

Those invasive thoughts were knocking around his head again. It felt like he was drowning. He squeezed his eyes shut even tighter until white spots danced around the darkness. Deep breath after deep breath, he tried to level himself.

Jason pretended he couldn't hear Dick's voice break over a few words as he made his way out of the apartment. This was a problem Jason's bludgeoning couldn't help fix, and, quite frankly, he didn't think he could handle any more emotions at this point. The reminder of his mother, and he considered Catherine more of a mother than Sheila ever was, was just too much for him right now. He had to get out.