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The phone rang once.
And then silence.
Roy Harper was in bed, resting, nursing a gunshot wound from some time prior. It had been gnarly and the recovery had already been long and arduous and with more time than he would have liked. He was well out of the woods in terms of his life and would be back to strength in some time but resting was, technically, the key. He was stashed away as Oliver and crew battled monsters that took over Star City. It was a whole thing and frankly, he didn’t really know all the details about what all that was happening. Either way, Roy hated being unable to help but he’d probably be more of a hindrance against literal monsters
For a second, Roy considered it being a call - or start of one - from Oliver or Dinah or… The possibilities were endless and the murky ones rattled around his brain were never pleasant. He picked up the phone, his hand scrambling over the screen, scared to look. It wasn’t from Oliver or Dinah.
It was from Dick.
His best friend.
The leader of the Titans.
He was a lot of things.
It had been a while since they talked, really talked. Donna’s death hung over them like a heavy cloak - Dick and Roy especially. It wasn’t that the others didn’t love her but there was something with the three of them that was just different. Something no one could really describe. Dick and Donna were the Wonder Twins, such a relationship akin to best friends and siblings and platonic soulmates - something. Roy and Donna were something too. Something he wasn’t sure he could put a label on either. Dick and Donna had labels thrust upon them but there was an inexplicable element no one could really tell. It was a bit like that with Roy and Donna too. And Dick and Roy? Just another unexplainable thing. Best friends, leader and follower - both ways - confidantes, another set of platonic soulmates. The three of them, he supposed, although it wasn’t always platonic with Roy and Donna. But they were best friends. A bit co-dependant? Possibly. Probably more than a bit. It just made Donna’s death hit harder.
The Titans had disbanded, Dick unable to lead friends and family to their deaths. But Dick began to suffocate. Roy tried to help. He would always try to help. Dick was his best friend. It might not have been the best way but Dick always did better with a team. But Roy couldn’t stay.
And then Dick gave the team away too, retreating to Gotham’s ugly sister city, Bludhaven.
But this phone call - just the one ring - was something. A step. And Roy didn’t want to push but he was worried. It was like Dick wanted to call but thought better of it. He sat there for a moment, propped up by pillows, debating before he called him back. Voicemail.
“It’s me,” he said, not bothering to say his name. Dick would know it was him. Would know his voice. “I saw… look, call me back would ya? I’m doing enough sitting around for the both of us and I’m bored and… well, it’s a long story so call me.”
He waited a day. Called again. Voicemail.
Again.
Again.
Again.
And then…
“I’m coming to you, dumbass.”
He took a ride to Bludhaven and went straight to the address he knew as Dick’s apartment building… only to come face to face with rubble. There was literally nothing left, nothing left standing at all. Roy had no idea when this happened or how or why. But he hardened his eyes and went to work. It didn’t take long for Roy to figure out what happened, at least to some extent. The town was buzzing with information. Dick may be the detective - second only to his father - but he was still Roy’s best friend. He picked up some things in their years on the teams they shared. He wasn’t stupid.
It was near dark and starting to rain when Roy finally found the roof.
There was a dead man on one end, a bullet in his head. It took him a second to identify him but Roy knew some of Dick’s rogues and villains, just like his friend knew some of his. Blockbuster. And now he was dead. Roy swallowed heavily and kept his crossbow at the ready. He wasn’t at enough strength for his usual but there was no way he’d go after his friend with nothing, especially not in Bludhaven. Dick had done wonders in the crime fighting department, no doubt, but the level of crime that Bludhaven had - like Gotham - was hard to defeat.
He looked up. There were two figures at the other end of the roof. A woman was zipping up her front before dragging a limp body upright. Roy recognized him immediately and he took a few steps forward, trying to ignore the dull roar of pain exploding from his still healing wound. He wasn’t entirely sure who this woman was or what he was doing, and he didn’t particularly care to find out. Not when his friend was there.
“Let him go!” he yelled above the rain.
The woman spun around, Dick’s body slumping to the side. Roy mostly kept his eyes on her, in case of any movement, but he allowed his gaze to glimpse at his best friend. His suit was bloody and torn from what he could tell and although technically awake, far, far out of it. He could barely keep his eyes open but at least he was breathing. Roy would take care of everything else.
“Who are you?” the woman demanded.
“Let. Nightwing. Go!”
“I’m not his enemy.”
“Did you kill this guy?” he asked, gesturing to Blockbuster with his foot.
“Blockbuster?” she snorted. “He deserved it.”
So, yes.
“I stopped him from continuing to hurt Richard,” she continued.
“Let him go!” Roy yelled, stronger this time. He did not let his voice tremble. If Dick had any idea what was going on, he didn’t show it. A tell tale sign. Shock, drugs, the possibilities were endless and nothing good. She knew his name, she had been around a while and he knew there was plenty wrong with this scenario and anything surrounding it. “I will not ask again!”
He would shoot her. He would absolutely shoot her.
The rage was building up in his chest.
“Or what? You’ll kill me?” she sneered, lip curling as she tightened her ponytail, black hair slick with rain. “Richard is my lover. I have no idea who you are. You were never important.”
It wasn’t because she tried to rile him up.
It wasn’t.
He let the arrow fly.
He missed.
Well, not exactly. The arrow did embed itself in her leg. He didn’t flinch as she cried out and stumbled away from his friend. He moved as quickly as he could before hauling her away. She had her hand wrapped around her leg tightly, trying to stop the bleeding. It wouldn’t do much but it would probably be enough, at least for now. “Who are you?”
Roy snarled, his shoulders tense, the healing wounds flaring in pain and his eyes bursting with fire. “His best friend.”
She just stared.
If she knew anything about what that term meant when it came to him or Dick, she didn’t say anything about it. He didn’t really care either. If he never saw her again, alive, it would probably be too soon. “You better go before I put an arrow between your eyes.”
“He’ll come after me.”
“I doubt it,” he snorted, pointing the end of the crossbow arrow at her again. “Trust me, if he has to choose between us, it won’t be you.” She paused, pondering and looked almost ready to pounce but she thought better of it. It was moments after she disappeared, limping over the edge, that Roy turned back to Nightwing. “N?” Roy asked gently, kneeling by his friend. His knees scraped the concrete lightly and his patched wounds jostled. He ignored it. “D, buddy? It’s Roy. I’m gonna-”
“Stop… stop….” Dick was whispering the word like a mantra. “Stop…stop.”
“Stop, what, buddy?” Roy asked, quietly.
“Stop… don’t… don’t touch me. I don’t…poison,” he muttered, still entirely out of it, eyes blurring with tears, letting out a half choked sob. The acrobat sighed and closed his eyes, defeated, growing limp again. He tried again, but there was little fight. “Stop. Please.”
Roy wasn’t touching him but he could practically feel his blood go cold. He looked around, trying to find any answers. Dick’s uniform was askew in a way Roy had never seen it before, like he hadn’t bothered to secure it. Like someone put it on for him. He had to bite his tongue and he could taste blood bursting in his mouth. Just a bit, enough. He remembered the girl, zipping up her top, so close to him. Tears clouded his vision far more than the rain ever could. “Rob,” he whispered, trying not to choke. “Robin, I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
Dick blinked, opening his eyes for a moment with something of bare recognition. There was something else there, something that he prayed with all he had that was hope. He blinked again, and it grew stronger with every passing second. He stared at his best friend like there was nothing else that mattered, that it was all going to end up okay. There was relief there. “R-Roy?”
“Yeah, buddy. It’s me. I’m gonna get you out of here.”
Dick just cried.