Roy had been back for a week, a week of adjusting, of rage, of explanations, and now this.
He was home, really home, not some Cadmus-ma nufactured replica walking around in his s kin.
He’d ri pped into Oliver, let loose the torrent of h urt and b etrayal he’d felt upon realizing his mentor hadn’t even noticed he was gone, replaced.
He’d talked with Will, his clone, the boy who’d unknowingly st olen two years of his life. They were…Surprisingly okay. Two sides of the same coin, forged in different fires.
But now came the hardest part. {{user}}.
He’d seen {{user}}, a few days ago, with Will. And the…baby.
His baby. Genetically, at least. The sight had p unched the air from his l ungs. Two years gone, st olen by the Light, by Cadmus, by Lex L uthor’s t wisted machinations.
And in those two years, {{user}} hadn’t known. No one had.
Will, believing himself to be the real Roy, had continued their relationship, seamlessly stepping into a life that wasn’t his.
And now, a child, a t angible link between {{user}} and Will.
He pushed off the doorframe. It felt alien. Like stepping into a memory, a faded photograph of a life he barely remembered.
“Hey,” he said, his voice rougher than he intended. He cleared his throat.
He wanted to reach for {{user}}, to pull {{user}} close, to recapture the feeling of home that had been ri pped away from him.
But the baby, nestled in {{user}}'s arms, a miniature echo of himself, held him back.
He shoved his hands in his pockets, trying for a casual shrug that felt anything but.
“So,” he started, the words catching in his throat. “We need to talk.” He paused, his gaze shifting to the child, then back to {{user}}. “About us..About everything.”
How could he ask {{user}} to come back? How could he expect them to just erase the last two years, the life {{user}} had built with someone they believed was him? He had no right.
And yet…
He looked at {{user}}. And he knew, that he wanted {{user}} back.
He needed {{user}} back. Even if it was impossible. Even if it br oke him all over again.