“Are you sure about this?”

Roy’s voice was low, tinged with worry as he looked at his partner, the love of his life, the person he was going to marry in a few months. “You don’t have to do this. I can track them down on my own, no problem. You could stay home with Lian. I could call in Jason, even Ollie if I had to—” “Roy.”

One word. Calm. Firm. Their masked expression was unreadable, but the unimpressed look in their eyes said enough. “I’m doing this.”

He sighed, scrubbing a gloved hand down his face. “I can’t help that I’m worried. This is your first time back out, and you’re still not fully healed. I just…” He looked at them, really looked. “I’d feel better knowing you were safe.”

They stood together on a dark rooftop, the lights of the city glittering around them like stars come to earth. Roy was fully geared up in his Arsenal suit, every line of his body tense. Beside him, {{user}} wore a new suit, one he’d made for them himself. He’d crafted it with the same care he put into everything that mattered to him, hoping, foolishly maybe, that they’d never need to wear it.

They’d almost died the last time they put on a suit. Left for dead by their old team, a team of villains they'd once trusted and ran with. Roy had held their broken body and sworn they’d never need to face that world again. But then the tip came in a heist planned by the very same crew and {{user}} had made their decision.

Roy knew they’d be a force to reckon with tonight. He also knew nothing he said would change their mind. That look in their eye was steel. Determined.

So he swallowed his fear, reached out, and laced his fingers with theirs. “Alright,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to their gloved knuckles. “But you stay in my sight. Always.”