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"Dick, really, you shouldn't have." Roy tried to argue and sighed when he was completely ignored.
"Come on, help me find somewhere to put this." Dick said, grinning at him. Roy dutifully took the crate from him and put it on the table. Honestly, Roy had no idea what he would do if Dick wasn't there, not that he liked it.
Ever since Cheshire dumped Lian on him, and in a desperation-filled moment he called his old best friend, Dick had been more present in his life than ever .
He never thought Dick would actually answer, nevermind help. He thought all the bridges between them were broken, when he distanced himself from the team to look for non-clone Roy, then Dick distanced himself from the team after the clusterfuck with Artemis, then, after finding non-clone Roy was dead , Roy gave up on the "no-kill" rule all heros had, and then he fell into the hellhole called heroin... Roy didn't think he could ever return to the good graces of any of his former friends.
Of course, he found Jason and Kory, but Jason needed time alone to deal with his shit and Kory couldn't be chained to a place for too long, never mind one planet .
So when Cheshire left two-year-old Lian on him and Jason was occupied planning his next master plan or some shit like that and Kory left earth for some time, he panicked . He panicked and called the only person he knew that had a good way with kids and was into the superhero community. Dick didn't disappoint.
"Come on, open it!" He urged, like a kid on christmas. Roy chuckled and carefully cut the tape, opening the box carefully.
Inside there was a car seat, lined with a white fluffy material. The plastic parts were black and the rest of the visible padding was a dull red. It looked secure, comfortable and big enough that he would use it for quite some time.
The problem?
Roy didn't have a car. He had a bike.
Since details like that weren't something bat kids just forgot, Roy carefully reached inside, where there was an envelope on the seat.
A pair of keys fell out.
Dick squealed with joy.
"Did you like it?!"
Roy took a deep breath, closed his eyes and counted until thirty.
It wasn't Dick's fault, he knew that. Dick just liked to waste Bruce's money on what he considered important - namely, his friends. He wanted nothing in return.
Roy fought the tears and the voice inside his head that kept repeating the his friends part.
Dick was rambling, something about being better to move a baby around in a car and groceries and how he decided to type - a red Citroën C4 - and how he bet Lian would love to look out the window.
“Okay, and how much money did you spend on that thing, Dickie?” Roy asked, interrupting his rambling and adding the nickname as a last though, to show he wasn't actually mad.
Dick seemed to catch that and think he was mad anyways.
"Uh... Does it matter?" He asked, biting his lower lip and carefully taking a step back.
Roy didn't know what hurt more, that Dick would do this for him after everything or that even doing it he thought that Roy may actually lash out physically at him.
"Of cour- No." He cut himself, taking a deep breath. Dick didn't want anything back. Dick didn't want anything back . "I... It's just..." Roy exhaled, all the fight leaving his body and leaving him exhausted . "It doesn't. Thank you." He added, looking up and conjuring a small smile.
Dick's face inflamed again like a goddamn balloon, and he moved as if to hug him, but contained himself. After the first week he got that Roy wasn't as keen on physical contact was he used to be.
"It was nothing, Roy. I'm happy to help you." Dickie smiled softly and almost made Roy cry on the spot. Think about dying puppies, harper. Get a goddamn hold. "Do you want to see it?"
"Sure." He answered, more for the need to move then want to actually see it, and let Dick gingerly take his wrist and guide him outside.