A/N: Been a while since I updated. Jumping on it right now. I built this off the first chapter rather than canon, so I'm sorry, but I didn't want to change it after I'd written the first chapter.

Disclaimer: No, I really don't own. Bite me.

Two

The door hissed open, leaving two people, one in the same, staring eye-to-eye through the tense air. One was thin, lean, and certainly older. The other, over the years, had remained strong in stasis and was missing one arm.

On one side, behind the original, stood three heroes, all of them good and true. Wally West. Dick Grayson. Kaldur'ahm. Each wore a smile, thin and wan. None had thought they'd see the day when the two would meet. Truly, they'd thought the younger was dead all this time.

The older (at least in physical years) stood tall. His arms were scrawny, his eyes dull and lifeless. Everything about him was weak and exhausted. For five years, he'd been searching for this kid, this poor little thing who he'd stolen life from; now, he'd finally found peace. The search for Speedy was over.

The smaller grinned, and it was a positively elated smile. No regret hid in his blue eyes, no sorrow lingering on his features. He didn't seem bothered in the slightest, just excited, honest. Surprisingly enough, he was the first to move forward, showing no fear. After all, this man was just him. An older version of himself, and eight years could change someone, but not after all he- they- had been through.

Wally was the first one to make a whispered joke. He jabbed Dick in the ribs and murmured, "Five bucks says one of 'em cries." Silent agreement was held in a nod.

"How's life treated you?" asked the original, looking up to his elder with bright blue eyes, innocent and pure. "Just so I know what I'm up against. A lot's changed, but maybe I can at least scrape up a few pointers."

Hollowed eyes, sunken features, and tired mind analyzed this new form, this fresh body, this simple child. No words would come. He was too awestruck by the fact that this one had a do-over. He could live a free life, no burdens or boundaries. He was free to be the Roy Harper that Red Arrow could never be. This was a fresh start, one he hoped his counterpart wouldn't screw up. Not the way he had.

He was so sweet, even. Roy couldn't remember being like that. Had he ever been so small and kind? Probably not. Programming and all. But maybe in his memories, the implanted ones, maybe there was some sense of who he was before in those… Maybe some kindness of heart existed there, before he was a cruel marauder…

"Clones can talk, right?" laughed the younger Harper, his head cocked to one side in a questioning way. "I've already met Conner and he could talk." His brows furrowed for a moment before he added on, "Well, he grunted and sighed more than anything, but I think he said a few words at one point…"

Childlike. Soft. Fragile, yet stronger than him in every way. Morally correct, boundaries intact, laughter in his eyes…

God, he'd stolen Roy Harper's life.

Yes, he was a cheap knockoff. Yes, he was a weapon. Yes, he'd betrayed his friends and the League. Yes, he was a rude, selfish bastard with absolutely no moral code. Yes, he was all of that and plenty more. Even after all these years of wanting to be the original, he'd grown worse, darker, more dangerous. And where was he now? The realization sunk in that he shouldn't be mad that he was something volatile and repulsive: he should be mad because he stole a precious life from someone who really and truly deserved it.

"Is- Is he okay?" asked Roy, looking over his shoulder at his two saviors, two of the men who had actually come to his rescue. On the clone's orders, but they were the first to pull him out, to get him to safety, to patch him up. A bit of concern laced his cerulean orbs and the teen felt uncomfortable in his clone's presence all of a sudden, like this man couldn't fathom the fact that he wasn't real.

When he was. He was real. Completely real.

Just not the original.

The clone finally broke, his psyche finally shattering. He fell to his knees and grabbed Roy about the waist in a tight, unbreakable hug. "I'm sorry," he whispered, leaning into the teen. Tears escaped, no domino mask to hide them here. "I'm so sorry, Roy."

Smiling, the younger just looked down softly at his duplicate. "It's not your fault," he said with a sad sort of laugh. "You didn't do this to me. They did. Cadmus." His new friends had sort of explained everything that had happened to make him the way he was. "It's not your fault, Roy."

Eyes squeezed shut, he began to breathe words. "Thank you for giving me my friends and and my family and my daughter and this incredible… this incredible life…" Roy had never asked for it, never even wanted it, but he'd been given the greatest gift of all and had wasted five years of it trying to regain a past life. Had it been worth it? "Thank you. For everything you've allowed me to have."

He laughed. Laughed. (Even beyond the Roys, Wally and Dick shared a look, wondering when in the world Roy had ever been so carefree… Dick also handed over five bucks.) "I didn't give it to you, but I'm glad you get to enjoy yourself outside of a pod." When the clone looked up at him with the most heartbroken, pitiful eyes, the teen just said, "Now seriously, I want some pointers. They said you went pretty nuts in the last five years, so what should I not do?"

Forcing a smile, the easy answer came. "Date assassins. They're bad news."

A/N: Fin.

Review and thanks for reading!

~Sky