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The loud noises were what made Bruce aware that someone was in the kitchen in the middle of the night. He didn’t think any of his kids could be responsible; they tended to be far more sly in late-night adventures through the manor. Not even Alfred was working that late.
Maybe an intruder? If yes, it needed to be someone who hadn’t gained experience, because who breaks into Wayne Manor when everybody knows that the Bats are on Bruce’s payroll?
Making his way from the study across the hallway in the dark, he saw a glimmering light coming from the open door. This intruder had to be really stupid. Armed with his Batarang, Bruce glanced inside. He didn’t need anyone to see him with the weapon in hand, but if he could just take them out quietly, it would be fine.
But to his surprise, he didn’t see an intruder trying to steal silver from a drawer.
Roy was sitting on the kitchen tiles, knees pulled up to his chest and his face buried deep between his arms. Bruce lowered the Batarang and walked over to the man. On his way, he saw a shattered glass and spilled water on the floor next to the sink. Kneeling down, he asked, “Roy, can you hear me?” He didn’t get a response. It was fine, it wouldn’t be the first time dealing with a panic attack.
“I’m here for you. You are safe. Do you understand?”
A small nod came from the curled-up figure. Bruce let out a sigh, glad that his voice had rung through.
“Put your feet flat on the ground. Feel the tiles. Ground yourself. Roy, you are safe here,” he instructed the man, and Roy managed to place his bare feet on the ground. Hiccups were heard, and Bruce got to see silent tears hitting the floor beneath them.
When he needed to get his kids out of panic attacks, he knew what to do. This was the first time dealing with Roy in such a situation. He couldn’t leave him alone to get Jason to help. Bruce needed to be here for Roy.
Bruce positioned himself next to him so that he didn’t corner the boy too much. Roy needed to see that there was a way out.
“Breathe with me, Roy,” Bruce said, hoping the man would look up and follow his instructions.
It took a few minutes, but Roy managed to lift his head from his arms and look at Bruce.
His eyes were rimmed red, and tears still flowed down his cheeks, but Roy tried to follow Bruce’s breathing technique.
“Deep in through your nose, right,” Bruce instructed. Roy followed, only interrupted by occasional hiccups. “And out through your mouth. Alright, you’re doing good. Just follow me.”
After a while, Roy’s ragged breathing slowed down.
“Good job, son,” Bruce praised him. He tried not to notice the tears, but he couldn’t unsee them falling onto the tiles.
Together they sat in silence; neither of them felt the urge to say anything. Bruce didn’t try to touch him, he didn’t know how Roy would react, and simply sitting there was enough to let Roy know that he would not be left alone.
What felt like ages later, Roy tried to stand up, his legs trembling and unstable. Bruce supported him, holding his shoulder in acknowledgment that he was there. Roy nodded in thanks.
Together, they made their way to the guest room Roy occupied while visiting the manor with Jason, taking a break from their recent case.
But on their way there, Roy’s hands began to tremble more as they walked through the long, dark hallways, and for the first time since Bruce had found him, Roy murmured something under his breath.
“Jay…”
Bruce looked at him. Did he mean Jason? He was confused, why would he want Jason in the middle of the night? But when they passed Jason’s room, Roy started to pull toward the door. Bruce simply followed him, unsure how his son would react to being awakened.
Quietly, Roy opened the door, and to his surprise Jason was sitting awake in his bed. His hair stood up in different directions; Bruce could tell he had just woken up. The redhead pulled away from Bruce’s grip on his shoulder and walked over to the bed. Without any communication, at least none that Bruce could see, Roy crawled under the blanket and pulled it over himself. Jason looked at Bruce and then at Roy, not even slightly surprised by what had just happened.
Bruce didn’t ask further questions. He simply wished them a good night and closed the door again.
Over the next few nights, things repeated themselves. Bruce would hear noises from the kitchen while working late and find Roy sitting either at the table, fidgeting with something he had built, or on the floor while controlling his breathing.
It was never as distressed as it had been that first night. Sometimes they even talked a bit. Mostly, Roy explained what he was working on and how his mechanics functioned. Bruce was interested, so he listened closely. Roy knew his stuff. Bruce made coffee for the two of them whenever it felt like they wouldn’t be going back to bed. They had more in common than one might think.
One night, Roy told him something Bruce couldn’t forget so easily.
“The hallways remind me of the streets at night. Back problems from sleeping on concrete are no fun.”
Bruce didn’t know what to say. He was glad Roy didn’t expect him to respond.
Over time, Roy continued to open up, starting to talk about his night terrors.
“This house reminds me of Oliver. I was kind of glad he kicked me out.”
Bruce didn’t know what had happened exactly. He knew Roy had struggled, but Ollie had never mentioned any of this. Perhaps he hadn’t wanted to ruin his reputation with the League if they found out he had kicked out his ward. Roy looked down at his project while talking.
“I just tried to get some warmth in this big-ass house. I… I don’t know why. I feel so dumb for doing this.” He wiped away another tear. “The first time felt so good…like I wasn’t actually alone anymore.”
Bruce placed a hand on his shoulder, a firm grip to symbolize that he was there.
“Roy, it’s okay. You have people who support you. You can trust us. You can trust me,” Bruce said. Roy nodded.
The more they met, the more Roy opened up about his time on the streets and living with Oliver. Even when Oliver was home, it was only ever training; outside of that, they barely crossed paths in the house. Roy had felt alone, abandoned by the one person who should have cared for him.
On the streets, it was a daily fight to see the sun rise in the morning. Sometimes he questioned whether it was worth it. But Roy told him that Jason and the Outlaws were the best things that had ever happened to him, and that was why he continued to fight.
They didn’t talk about it in the following days. They never did, not about the first night, nor the ones after. But Bruce became more observant of Roy and Jason: the slight hand touches, the looks they exchanged when they thought no one was watching.
One night, Roy told him that the only other person who knew about his night terrors was Jason. Bruce wasn’t surprised. Every time Bruce offered to take Roy back to his room, Roy already knew exactly where they were going.
And even after Roy and Jason were back out in the field, working cases again, Bruce sometimes texted Jason to ask how Roy was doing and whether his sleep was improving. Jason showed those messages to Roy, and they both laughed, because Bruce Wayne had adopted another child.