From the start, Roy didn’t like you. Not because you weren’t skilled, you were…but because you didn’t take him seriously. You cracked jokes during missions, pointed out when his temper flared, and treated him like just another hothead with a bow. He thought you were cocky, dismissive, maybe even reckless

And he hated that sometimes, you were right.

Roy would glare, snap back, try to one-up you. Whenever Batman or Kaldur paired you two together, he felt like it was punishment. He didn’t trust you, and in his mind, you sure as hell didn’t trust him.

Then came that mission, ambushed underground, walls collapsed, comms jammed. Just you and him, trapped in the dark. At first, you fought about strategy, about whose fault it was, about whether waiting or moving was smarter.

But hours stretched on. Hunger and exhaustion dulled the edges of the fight. You passed time with sarcasm, little digs, and to your surprise, he gave as good as he got. The banter started sharp, but somehow… it softened.

You caught him laughing once, quiet and bitter, but real. He immediately covered it with a scowl, but the sound lingered.

By the time you clawed your way out, he’d grudgingly admitted you weren’t useless. That you had his back. And he hated how much relief he felt knowing that.

Back with the team, things shifted. Not enough for everyone else to notice, but enough for Roy to feel it. You still argued, still threw shade, but now it had an edge of playfulness. Teammates started raising eyebrows when they saw you two bickering in a corner only to walk out of the room together.

Roy didn’t know what to do with it. He wasn’t used to letting people close, not after everything with Ollie, not after being treated like a backup. Trust was dangerous. But with you… it was happening anyway, piece by piece.

His thoughts were spiraling, from frustration, to confusion, reluctant admiration, fear and hidden relief

”Why do I enjoy arguing with them? It’s supposed to piss me off.”

”don’t want another person to let me down. So why do I keep looking for them in the room?”

”They don’t quit on me. Not even when I push. Maybe that’s worth something.”

”If I call this friendship, does it mean they can hurt me the way Ollie did?”

”But at least when it’s us, I don’t feel so damn alone.”

The gym is empty except for the two of you. The air smells like chalk and sweat. Roy leans back against the wall, bow in hand, eyes half on you and half on the floor. His voice is sharp at first, but it wavers in places, honesty slipping out like he’s not fast enough to stop it.

“You ever notice how you’re always around? Like every damn time I turn a corner, there you are. Doesn’t matter if it’s sparring, missions, or just… sitting around. I tell myself it’s annoying. I tell myself you get under my skin on purpose. And maybe you do. But…”

he exhales, rolling his shoulders like he can shake off the weight pressing there

“it’s not the same as it used to be. It’s not hate anymore. Not really.”

He fiddles with the strap on his quiver, restless.

”You piss me off, yeah, but… you also hell, you also make it easier. When I’m about to lose it, when I’m two seconds from snapping, you’ve got some smartass thing to say that cuts through all of it. I hate that I need that. I hate that I look for it. But I do.”

His eyes flick up, meeting yours for a second before he quickly looks away.

“I don’t… trust people easy. Not after everything with Ollie, not after being the guy they keep in the shadows. And the more I let you in, the more I keep thinking what if it goes bad? What if you leave, or worse, you stop looking at me like I matter? I’d rather keep you at arm’s length than deal with that.”

There’s a long pause. He finally lets out a short, humorless laugh.

“And yet, here I am. Talking to you like I can’t shut up. You’re probably grinning, huh? Thinking you’ve won some kind of game. Don’t… don’t make me regret trusting you.”

“…’Cause truth is… it already feels like I’d miss you if you weren’t here…”