A/N: Here's the next chapter! Enjoy and leave a review to let me know what you think!

"Good news," Roy said cheerfully as he served Mia breakfast. "I think I found a school for you guys." When he didn't get a response, he kept going. "It's a private, charter school called Star City Charter Academy. I'm going to meet with one of their counselors to get an idea of their views on keeping you in the 8th grade. I'll be a few hours, so don't burn the place down while I'm gone. OK?" He only got a nod in response. "Connor's still sleeping, so let him be."

"You two have a busy night?" Mia asked, a hint of bitterness to her voice.

Roy sighed and resisted the urge to wrap his arms around himself. "I know you're disappointed in my repose, Mia, but I'm trying to protect you."

"And not Connor?"

"I didn't even want to let Connor be a vigilante. It's so dangerous to do this stuff Mia, and I don't want to be responsible if something happens to you guys."

Mia glared at her omelet. "I'm more than capable of taking care of myself."

"I'm not saying you're not. I just want you to understand why I said no."

'Because you like Connor more than me.' Mia shrugged and started stabbing her omelet with her fork.

When Mia didn't say anything else, Roy nodded to himself. "Ok. I'll see you in a few hours. There's another omelet in the fridge for Connor, he can warm it up on the stove when he wakes up." No response. "Alright then, see you in a few." He grabbed his work bag, which had copies of Connor and Mia's school and DHS files, and left.

As soon as the door closed, Mia stopped killing her omelet and started eating it. 'There has to be a way to become a vigilante,' she thought. She could always force Roy to let her become a vigilante like Connor did. But the thought made her stomach clench. 'But he's been so nice to me. Even if it is a façade, doing something like that might push him too far.' She sighed and took another harsh bite of her breakfast, 'There has to be a way.' Mia looked around as she thought and her eye happened to catch the eye of the clock. "Huh…. It's almost 10 and Connor is still in bed?" That was so uncharacteristic for him, even if he and Roy had been out extra late. Usually, Connor was up by sunrise for his first meditation of the day.

Feeling suspicious, Mia got up and made her way over to the bedroom. She opened the door, expecting to see Connor still sleeping in bed. Instead, he was awake and sitting by the window. At first, Mia thought he was meditating, but then she noticed how he sat. His knees were drawn up to his chest and even from the door, Mia could tell he was tense. "Uh…Connor?" Mia asked tentatively. "Are you busy?" There was no verbal response, but Connor did shrug his shoulders. "Ok…" She hesitated in the doorway for a few moments, looking around as if the solution to this situation was written on the walls somewhere. "Is…everything ok?" Another shoulder shrug. Mia took a few steps into the room. She looked around but stopped when she got to the bookshelf. "Hey, Connor, the picture of you and your mom is gone. Did it fall, or-" Mia stopped when a quiet sob came from Connor. "Connor?"

" 'm fine, Mia…" Connor whispered, his voice tense and wet. "Jus' go…"

'Yeah, he sounds completely fine.' Mia took a few steps closer. "Come on, Connor. If something's wrong you can tell me." She waited but didn't get a response. 'Ok, so he got even more upset when I mentioned the picture.' Maybe it had something to do with that. "Did the picture frame break? Because we could fix it or Roy would buy you a new one, I'm sure…" Her voice trailed off when Connor shook his head. 'Not that. Then what? It has to be something with that picture.' Mia frowned a little more as she crept closer and saw Connor's arms were closed in front of his chest awkwardly like he was holding something. Was Connor hiding the picture? But why would he be holding the picture of him and his mom while he cried… Mia's eyes widened as it hit her. "Connor… Your mom…when did she like…die?"

"Today…last year…"

'Oh shit…' Mia shifted on her feet uncomfortably. "Uh…" She ventured closer, then knelt down on the floor beside him. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Connor shrugged. "Nothin' to talk about. My mom was in an accident, she died, and I never saw her again…" He started crying over the photo.

"Uh… Oh God, I don't know what I'm doing." Mia thought for a moment. How was she supposed to react? "Talk to me." Connor shook his head. "No? Ok…" Not knowing what else to do, she put her arm around Connor. It was awkward and weirdly informal given the lack of familiarity between them. But Mia held fast, feeling more awkward not doing anything than sitting here with her arm over Connor's shoulder. "If this gets too weird…I can stop." Connor shook his head. "Ok then." Mia held him close while he cited for a while.

Eventually, Connor stopped and wiped his eyes. "I miss her so much, Mia…" he muttered. "When I was at the monastery I'd write her a letter every week."

"What was in the letters?"

"How my studies were. My Aikido. My archery. Things that happened."

"Sounds…nice. Did she write back?"

"Every week. She always told me how proud she was of my progress and how much she missed me."

"It was…probably hard for her to be away from you." Mia winced at how callous it sounded. "Sorry. I don't exactly have experience with loving parents so I'm not sure what to say here." Connor kept crying and she looked around again. "You know what, let's get out of here."

Connor frowned at her. "Where?"

"Uh….The Quiver! We can shoot or…fight. Whatever you want. We just need to get your mind off everything."

"I don't know…"

"It'll be fun. We don't even have to get dressed. We can go in our pajamas." Mia waited for a response, but Connor just stared at the floor listlessly. "Come on, Connor." She grabbed his arm gently and pulled him to his feet with little effort. "It'll be great." She pulled him toward the door but stopped to carefully remove the picture from his hands and set it on his bed. "Get your shoes on. I'll write a note for Roy so he doesn't freak when we're not here later." Without wilting to see if Connor would respond, she dashed into the kitchen, tossed out the rest of her omelet, then scribbled a quick note to Roy about where they were. She grabbed her shoes and slipped them on, then found Connor sitting on the couch. He still looked horribly depressed, but now he had his shoes on. "Good. Let's go." Mia grabbed Connor by the hand, then dragged him out the door.

— —

They made it to the Quiver without incident— although a few people did give them odd looks— and let themselves in. As soon as they were downstairs, Mia looked around, then at Connor. "Ok, what do you want to do first?" she asked.

"…Nothing…" Connor muttered, looking at the ground.

"Come on, Connor. I know you're sad, but it'll feel better to get your mind off it. I promise."

"…Fine." Connor glanced around, then sighed. "Let's just shoot."

"Shooting. Cool." Mia led him over to the arsenal and grabbed the bow she'd been shooting with a few days prior. She eyed the quivers on their pegs before selecting one and slipping it over her body. It sagged from being too big, so she tried to fix the strap.

Connor saw her struggling while in the middle of putting on his own quiver, so he finished quickly and walked over to her. "You do it like this…" He moved her hands away, then fixed the strap.

"Thanks." Mia stayed still until he was done, then look closely at the strap to see how it was supposed to fit. "Ok, let's do this." She walked up to one of the targets and awkwardly pulled an arrow from her quiver. Tongue on the edge of her teeth, she knocked the arrow to her bow, then aimed at the target and pulled back the bowstring. Her hand and arm shook from the strain, but she powered through and fired. The arrow missed the target by a few inches. "Damn it!" She looked over at Connor, who was driving bullseye after bullseye into the target. 'Of course.'

"…It takes practice…"

"Huh?"

Connor lowered his bow and scuffed his toe on the ground. "Shooting. It takes practice to get good. It's only your second time so, you know, patience."

"I'm sure you weren't this bad."

"I was. Even when I first met Roy, I could only hit the middle once in a while. He made me practice a lot to get consistent."

"At least he trained you."

Connor didn't say anything as he shot another arrow. "You could try talking to him…"

"Roy?" Mia snorted and she shot another arrow. This one was closer to the target. "Yeah right."

"He's reasonable."

"With you. And for course he is. You're a patient monk and I'm literally a gremlin of the streets."

Now it was Connor's turn to snort. "Really? You think he'll be more reasonable with the son of the man who traumatized him than the innocent victim he bonded with over that trauma?"

"I'm not a victim." Mia's arrow hit the farthest ring of the target.

"Why?"

"Because…I chose to become a prostitute."

Connor frowned as he lined up another bullseye. "So it was your idea?"

"Well…no, it was Richard's. But I agreed. I could've said no."

"What would've happened if you had? Would he still have let you live with him? Fed you and took care of you?"

"Probably…"

"Is that why he hit you?"

"We're off-topic." Mia's eyes narrowed as her arrow missed again. "Roy still won't let me become a vigilante. I'm just not good enough for him."

Connor sighed as he shot another arrow. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?"

Connor heisted, then lowered his ow as he talked. "…Roy had a friend— more like a brother, who was a vigilante and he died." His words also caused Mia to stop her shooting. "That's why Roy didn't want me to be a vigilante and why he doesn't want you to become one either. It's dangerous and he's responsible for our safety."

"Do you think it's worth the risk?" Mia aimed another arrow at the target.

"I do. It's crazy dangerous, but there's nothing like it in the world. You'll never find a better hobby."

"Must be nice." Mia fired another arrow, which also hit the target. "I've never had anything worthwhile like that in my life."

Connor's hand loosened a bit and he moved his bow down. 'Ugh…man. Why do I feel like I have to help her?' It was definitely something a hero would do. He sighed again, then walked over to Mia. "You're too tense."

"What?"

"Your stance is too tense and you grip the arrow too hard. It's making your shooting difficult. Loosen your back and hand a bit."

"…You're helping me?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

"…I honestly don't know. But even if you can't convince Roy, I'll teach you to shoot."

Mia was quiet as she tried to loosen her muscles and keep her aim on the target at the same time. "Do you really think I can convince him?"

"I do."

— —

Connor kept helping Mia shoot for several hours and didn't even notice the time slipping by. Eventually, though, his stomach audibly growled and his cheeks heated.

"Hungry?" Mia smirked.

"A little…"

"Stay here. I bet Roy has food somewhere in his office."

A small smile appeared on Connor's face as he watched her go. As soon as he realized it was there though, he replaced it with a frown. "Why am I smiling? It's a sad day. Mom is gone and the only person I have for company is Mia." Who wasn't completely uninteresting. She had a lot of tenacity. It made Connor feel bad to be so adamantly against her living with him and Roy. 'She's a nice person…but I don't want to be replaced.'

"Jackpot!" Mia yelled as she came back down the stairs. "Found a container of pasta in a mini-fridge. No forks though, so we'll have to use our hands."

Connor shrugged as he sat on the ground next to her, the pasta container balanced on their knees. He picked a cold piece of pasta from the container and popped it into his mouth. "Weird texture…"

"I've lived off cup of noodles for two weeks." Mia took two pieces of pasta and ate them. "This isn't so bad."

"Why?"

"Where we were living had a microwave and I was honestly tired of fast food. Plus clients really prefer us to look a certain way."

"Preferred."

"Huh?"

Connor swallowed his bite. "Preferred. You- You said prefer— you know, present tense— and it should be in the past tense."

"…Right." Mia was quiet for a few minutes as she picked through the pasta. "Can I be honest with you, Connor?"

"Mhm."

"I don't always know if I want to leave the life behind me…exactly. Like, obviously I like living with Roy. It's nice having a normal person schedule instead of a nocturnal one. And not having to sleep with a bunch of gross men twice my age, obviously. I'm kind of enjoying this slightly more normal teen life. Not that my life has been normal from the beginning." She ate another cold piece of pasta. "But, Richard, being with him is the safest I've ever felt."

"What about Roy?"

"I don't know. He's too nice. It's just so…unnerving."

Connor pulled two more pieces of pasta from the container. "I don't know what to say."

"Thanks."

"But…you didn't know what to say earlier, so I'll give it my best shot." He quickly ate his pasta. "I know to you it seems like everything was ok, but from the outside— you know objectively— it wasn't ok. You were in danger, which is why Roy wanted to help you. Even if you don't fully trust Roy, he's doing everything he can to help you."

"…Well, you're not horrible. Maybe I'll feel better once I start therapy next week."

"I think that's what therapy is for."

"Hmm."

Connor looked at the floor as he ate another few pieces of pasta. "How badly do you want to be a vigilante?"

"Why?"

"…Truthfully? Because I kind of don't want you to, but if it's important to you, then I'll help you."

"Why don't you want me to become a vigilante?"

"Roy already connects to you more than he does me. If you become a vigilante then he might decide he doesn't want me anymore. And I don't want to leave. I can't go back to my old foster home so I don't have anywhere else to go."

"He won't kick you out. Roy doesn't seem like that kind of person."

"My father traumatized him when he was young. Why would he keep me?"

Mia gave him a look. "You're a weird kid."

"You didn't answer my question."

"…I really want to do this. I have to do this."

Connor sighed and pushed the container toward Mia so she could take the last piece. "Come on," he said. "I'll teach you how to fight."

"Why?"

"Because when you convince Roy to let you become a vigilante, it'll help if you can tell him you already know some basics."

Mia nodded as she ate the last piece of pasta, then set the container aside. "Let's do it then. And I promise, if he lets me become a vigilante, I won't let him get rid of you."

"Thanks. Come on, we can start with punches and blocks."

"I can already throw a pretty good right hook."

Connor smirked a little. "I'll keep that in mind."

— —

By the time Roy made his way down the stairs, Connor had taught Mia how to both throw and block a solid punch. The two teens were taking turns blocking and punching when their guardians found them.

"Having fun?" Roy asked.

"Oh yeah, I'm about to knock out Connor's teeth," Mia replied.

"I wouldn't say that," Connor almost laughed as he blocked her punch. "But she is surprisingly strong."

"Well, let's keep all our teeth in our mouths please."

"How did the school thing go?" Mia asked. She flinched a little as she blocked Connor's punch, he was a lot stronger than her but stood her ground.

"It went great actually. You'll have to take a couple of summer classes, and a couple of online classes, but they put together a plan so you can start 8th grade in the fall."

"That's…great. Thanks."

"No problem. Let's go home, it's almost dinnertime."

Connor gave Mia a nod in Roy's direction, then slipped past Roy and up the stairs.

Mia hesitated for a moment, then clear her throat. "Hey, Roy…" she said.

"Yeah?"

"I want to be a vigilante."

Roy tried not to sigh. "Mia-"

"Don't, Mia, me. I know you want to protect me, but I've been homeless at the age of 12. Trust me, I'll be fine."

"You could be killed-"

"I could also be killed just walking down the street tomorrow! The world is like that sometimes." Mia crossed her arms. "I've never done anything for myself. When I hit that target for the first time, I've never had pride like that. I have to do this. No one's ever allowed me to do something like this before. I want to do more; be more. And it's not like my life is perfectly safe as it is. I literally have HIV. I want to do this. Please, Roy?"

'Damn, why is this kid so sincere?' Roy wondered as he rubbed the back of his neck. 'I really, really don't want to put another teenager in danger…but it means this much to her, then how can I say no? What if being a vigilante can help her? I know she's been struggling, even if she's still too closed off to talk about it.' Which, unfortunately, he could completely understand. "I'll tell you the same thing I told Connor. If you do this, you have to do exactly what I tell you. You have to go to school and get good grades. You can also stop at any time. You don't have to be a vigilante to live here."

"But I can be a vigilante?"

"…Yes, you can. I'll start training you next week."

"Yes! Thank you, Roy!" Mia smiled broadly and practically bounce don her heels. "I'm going to be the most badass vigilante you've ever seen."

Roy smiled wryly. "I'm sure. Come on, let's go catch up with Connor so we can have dinner."

"Ok." Mia started walking toward the stairs, then stopped and looked back at Roy. "And I want a cape."

"No capes. We're archers, we don't have capes."

"We can, just use your imagination."

"Let's just go have dinner."

"This isn't over."

'I'm sure,' Roy thought as he followed Mia up the stairs. 'Oh boy… Two proteges. I don't know what I'm getting myself into. Hopefully, nothing too overwhelming because I'm not sure I'm qualified to do this.'

— —

That night, Mia looked through a pamphlet Roy had given her about her new school before bedtime. She glanced up as Connor finished his bedtime meditation and stood. She glanced back down at the pamphlet.

"Thanks…" Connor said quietly as he laid down in the bottom bunk.

"Thanks?" Mia frowned, lowering her pamphlet again.

"For today. It…really helped to get my mind off things. I appreciate it."

"Oh. Well, you're welcome. We are…roommates, soon to be teammates. Gotta have each others' backs. Right?"

"…Right. Roomie."

Mia snorted and went back to her pamphlet. "Good. Roomie."