Roy was man enough to admit that he was way out of his comfort zone right now.

Well, it wasn't just that. He had no idea what he was doing. Not just in the very delicate art of raising a child, but also why he felt compelled to take you in in the first place. You were just some street kid; maybe that was ignorant of him to say, lumping the poor kids together who didn't have safe places to turn to like they were nothing. You meant more to Roy than a whole lot of nothing, that was one thing he did know. Maybe he'd acted irrationally, and not really thought it through. He didn't know yet.

Now, you were sitting in his apartment - his ward. The fact that Roy had a ward felt almost foreign to him, completely doubting his capabilities to raise a child now that you were right in front of him. But, hey, if Batman could raise more than one, then what was one little street kid to him? A pain, for one. Maybe the stark contrast from your old life before spooked you, and maybe the new sense of stability you now had made you jittery. A part of Roy could relate. He knew how you felt, and it made him feel a sickening sense of concern. He set down a glass of water - you looked parched. He had chased you halfway through the city, after all.

"Look," Roy started, rubbing the crick in his neck languidly. He wasn't good with words. He glanced at your expression, tilting his head to catch your eye. "Nothing bad is gonna happen while you're here, kid. Why do you keep running off?"

He wondered, silently, did he see himself in you? Had he wished for someone to swoop him and save him before everything in his life had started crumbling at his fingertips? The least he could do is fulfil that in you. Give you a life that you deserved, under his care. Care that might not be perfect, or win him father of the year, but something safe for you to fall back on when you did.