Author's Note: Yeah, poor Roy just can't catch a break, can he? XD

Everything happened almost too fast to track for Roy. He cried out and covered his ears as the gun fired, then he heard the man yell in pain and drop the gun. By the time he looked over, Robin had already pinned the first man down and handcuffed him. Red Robin was fighting the other man, and had him on the ground before he could even reach for his own gun.

Trey, Mallory, and the cashier stared in both shock and amazement, but Roy had only one thought on his mind: I have to get out of here.

Before he could move, Red Robin looked straight at him.

"Elroy O'Hara, you're wanted for questioning."

"Like Hell I am." Roy bit back. "I have shit I need to do, if you don't mind." He dropped everything he'd gotten on the checkout counter. "Pardon, I'm apparently wanted for questioning. I'll be back some other day. Have a nice night." He walked out of the store, rolling his eyes as his face began to redden in both anger and embarrassment. The doors opened behind him.

"Roy, I'd appreciate it if you would cooperate." He turned to face Red Robin.

"I'd like for you to leave me the Hell alone. Neither's happened, so cry me a river."

"We're not here so you can just refuse us and walk away." Robin snapped. "So either answer Red Robin's questions willingly, or I'll knock you out, drag you into an abandoned building, and force you to!" There wasn't a single word spoken from the sidekick's mouth that didn't piss Roy off.

"Just try to lay a hand on me!" He replied, turning to face the (slightly) shorter boy. "I dare you."

"Robin, cut it out." Red Robin interrupted. "I can handle this. Go before Batman gets angry or freaks out."

"I don't take orders from you." Robin growled quietly. But he shot his grappling hook to another building and let it swiftly pull him over and up on the roof. Then he was gone.

"Sorry about that, Roy." The brunet scowled.

"Don't talk to me as if we're friends." He responded contemptuously. Red Robin sighed.

"Would you please just-"

"You look exhausted. Are you all right?" At first he had just been changing the subject on purpose, but it was true. He had just noticed it, but over the past couple of times he'd met Red Robin, his posture was more and more...well, tired. Roy didn't know how to explain it, even to himself.

And he looked kind of jumpy. A car passed by them on the road and his gaze snapped over to it as if he expected a gun to point out of the window.

"I'm fine. Can we just-"

"Yeah, okay." He cut the vigilante off again. "Here, or at my house?"

Tim had to say, it was jarring to see the spiteful teen in front of him to switch from being an angry smartass to agreeable and concerned. He was speaking with a much softer tone now, and it didn't take long (maybe half a second) to realize why: he felt guilty.

He really thought Tim not sleeping for over 72 hours was his fault.

It was almost funny. Tim was operating on his regular sleep schedule lately. He slept for four hours every few nights, that was enough....as long as he had plenty of coffee, anyway.

"Uh...your house." He replied, walking in the building's direction.

"The apartment complex. Not where my parents live." Roy said behind him. Tim nodded and slightly changed his direction.

He was kind of glad he wouldn't have to meet Roy's parents. It would've been hard to keep from chewing them out.

When they finally got there, Roy looked at him, his expression unreadable before he fished a key out of his pocket and unlocked the door, walking in.

"Fáilte go dtí mo bhaile." Roy said to him with a small smile. "Welcome to my home. I would've given you a welcome last time you paid a visit, but you kind of broke in."

"Yeah, I really need to break that habit." Tim replied with mild sarcasm. The corners of Roy's mouth twitched upwards, and he turned to face him.

"Alright, I'm listening. Ask away."

Roy shifted from foot to foot nervously as Red Robin spoke.

"What does your meta-gene allow you to do?" Meta what?

"What in the world is that?" Roy asked, frowning. Red Robin looked past him, then lead Roy to the front desk, where he sat on the desk.

"Sit down. This might take a bit." Roy stared for a few seconds, then sat by the vigilante. "The meta-gene is a genetic anomaly that only occurs in about twelve percent of the world's population." Red Robin explained. "It can be passed down through heredity, or it can be spontaneous. For example, you've heard of Black Canary?"

"Yeah, of course." Roy replied. He'd begun to slightly swing his legs off the desk without noticing.

"Her Canary Cry is a result of a spontaneous meta-gene. Around ninety-nine percent of meta humans have mundane powers, such as foretelling the future a few seconds or minutes ahead, maybe weak telekinesis. The other one percent...Black Canary falls into that category." Roy listened with rapt attention, then it dawned on him. His legs stopped swinging.

"You think I have the meta-gene."

"You tell me. Do you have an ability that nobody else you know has? Do your parents have a similar ability?" Roy stayed silent as he fought an internal battle.

He wanted to trust Red Robin. He really did. But could he? He had no earthly idea. All he could think of was all the places he might be sent for having such an ability. Some government lab to test how he uses his vaporization ability? A containment facility for meta humans?

Needless to say, his paranoia quickly won out.

"No." He lied, looking right into Red Robin's eyes to make it more convincing that he was telling the truth. It was easy to do, with the white lenses in the hood. Red Robin stared at him silently before slowly nodding.

"Okay. Thanks anyway, Roy." He slid off of the desk and began to leave, then turned and placed something small and round into Roy's hand. He looked at it.

It was a silver disk, about the diameter of a nickel, but around three centimeters thick with a dark red button on it.

"If you're ever in any trouble, press that and try to hold out. I will come to help." And with that, Red Robin left the building, leaving Roy to his thoughts.

He had to say, he was disappointed. Roy had lied right to his face. It was obvious.

When he'd said no, he had looked Tim right in the eyes. Smart, but he hadn't looked him in the eyes any other time. He'd actively thought it out.

Then there was the tracker glitching out at random intervals. Roy clearly had some sort of meta human ability; for one reason or another, he refused to reveal what it was. Maybe fear? Maybe he didn't trust Tim?

Either way, all he could do for now was continue his research and hope that Roy would use the emergency beacon if he needed to.

His communicator crackled to life in his ear, pulling him out of his thoughts.

"Hey, Red Robin." Dick's voice resounded from the earpiece. Tim sighed.

"Nightwing, long time no see. What do you want?" He couldn't keep out the slightly snappy tone from his voice. "I'm kind of busy."

"Batman said you and Robin are up to something." Dick sounded stern, like a parent scolding a child, and a burst of anger ignited in Tim's chest. "Not that I don't trust you both, but taking on a villain without Batman's help is-"

"How about you butt out?" Tim cut him off. "God forbid you call to ask how I'm doing or to announce a visit." The words were made to cut, and it was all too easy to use that on Dick.

"...I'm just trying to look out for both of you. If you need help, there's no shame in asking for it. You need to know that."

"Oh, for once in your life, spare me the lecture! In case you haven't noticed, I'm not Robin anymore!" Tim tugged the communicator out of his ear, walking the rest of the way to his nearby safehouse with it clutched tightly in his fist.

He was being immature and childish, he knew that. But he'd already started this case alone and he was going to finish it, Bruce and Dick's snooping be damned.

So he ignored the twinge of guilt in his stomach, pushed away the thoughts asking him why he lost his temper like that, and made his way to one of his safehouses.

Roy had no idea how long he just sat there, turning the disc over and over in his hand, inspecting it. No brand name (figured, but somehow it still kind of bothered him), no initials, no insignia of any kind...this thing didn't seem to have any way to possibly be traced back to Red Robin.

He still wasn't sure he could trust Red Robin. Hero or not, people changed, often for the worse. His own parents had been his heroes for a long time, hadn't they? And look at them now.

Even so, as he stared down at the small red button in the middle of the disc, he remembered Red Robin's final words.

'If you're ever in any trouble, press that and try to hold out. I will come to help'. A warm feeling spread through Roy's chest, one he hadn't felt in a long time.

"He trusts me..." He whispered with a smile.

Probably not much, if he really did at all. But the thought that he might, or that he trusted Roy enough to give him this, brought a smile to the teenager's face.

He slept better that night than he had in years.