A/N: Hello everyone! I don't think I've said it yet, so thank you to everyone who's reading and supporting this story! I'm so glad so many people are enjoying it! There's some strong language in this chapter, but nothing you probably haven't heard before. Enjoy!

When he first woke up, Roy was really confused. He blinked and looked around bleakly at the room. 'Why am I here?' He sat up and it at all came back to him. Killing that guy. Robin in his room. The arrow in his neck. Running. The arrow in the neck. Watchtower. Blood. Lot's of blood. So red. Like the arrow. Bruce Wayne. Gotham. Lots of blood on his hands. Knocking on his door brought him back to reality. "Uh….come in?"

The door opened and Dick came bounding over to his bed. "Morning!" He launched himself up and landed in front of Roy, starting the teen backward. "Did you sleep well?"

"Uh….." Roy was pretty sure he'd only slept for a couple of hours since he could clearly remember spending hours laying awake; worrying about Oliver finding him. Or if Bruce Wayne was really as nice as Dick kept saying he was. Or if he'd just be like Oliver was because Roy was apparently a terrible person. Well, after last night he was certain he was a terrible person.

"Roy!"

"Huh?"

"You didn't answer. You ok?"

"I- yeah. I'm fine."

"Great! So did you sleep well?"

Roy hesitated. "Uh….sure."

"Great! Come on, breakfast is waiting!" Dick grabbed Roy's hand and led him away. Luckily they walked a slightly leisurely pace. As they walked Roy looked around, trying to get a good look at his new home. They got down to the first floor and Dick led him into a dining room. Roy almost stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Bruce sitting at the head of the table rating a newspaper. "Morning Bruce."

"Good morning Dick. Morning Roy."

"Roy, you sit here." Dick sat Roy down in a chair, next to Bruce much to the anxious teen's surprise, and then sat down across from him.

"How did you sleep, Roy?" Bruce asked. Judging by the dark circles and pale complexion he probably hadn't slept a lot.

"Um…I slept fine Mr. Wayne."

"Mr. Wayne?" Dick asked making a face.

Bruce smiled friendly. "Please, Roy call me Bruce." Roy fidgeted and look down, making Bruce worry that he'd done something to offend him. Luckily he was once again saved by Alfred.

"Here you are sir," Alfred said, placing Bruce's breakfast in front of him.

"No waffles?" Dick asked disappointedly.

"Sorry Master Dick, but we did not have the necessary ingredients. I shall pick some up while I am out today."

"So waffles tomorrow?"

"Of course young sir."

"Yes!" Apparently satisfied, he dug into his eggs.

"Here you are Master Roy." Alfred placed the plate in front of Roy.

"Th-thank you," Roy said reflexively. He slowly picked up his fork and started eating. He took a bite and was taken by surprise. In the two years, he'd live with Oliver he'd never had eggs. He ate quickly, enjoying the delicious taste. Unknown to him, Bruce kept glancing at him as they ate. He made a note of how Roy ate quickly.

"Roy slow down or you'll choke," he advised. Roy froze when Bruce spoke and he cursed himself silently. 'Good job Wayne, way to scare the kid.' He considered his next words carefully. "Don't stop eating, just eat slower."

"Yes, sir."

Bruce decided to let the 'sir' drop for now and settled for keeping an eye on Roy as he ate. He didn't look malnourished, but Bruce had yet to see him without a shirt on so he didn't know how thin Roy was. Judging solely by how he ate, Bruce guessed that food was probably a sore subject. 'No doubt Queen used food, or lack thereof, as a way to manipulate Roy.' The boy couldn't have been that malnourished, or a doctor would've surely noticed. Speaking of which… "Roy after breakfast I want you to come downstairs to the Bat cave with Alfred and I so we can look at your injuries."

"Uh…I don't want-"

"This isn't a choice Roy."

"Sorry, sir."

Dick gave Bruce a look, much to Bruce's confusion. He didn't know what he'd done to deserve the look though. Roy finished soon after that and sat quietly, looking down at the table. "Alfred, we should probably get this done."

"Of course sir," Alfred replied. "Follow me please Master Roy."

"Yes, sir." Dick snorted and Bruce gave him the look for earlier.

"Please call me Alfred."

"Don't laugh at him," Bruce muttered to Dick as he stood up. He followed Roy and Alfred to his study, and then down to the Bat cave.

"Please sit Master Roy," Alfred said, gesturing to the medical table.

Roy hopped onto the table, wrapping his arms around himself. He wished Dick had come with them. 'Just do what they say, and they probably won't hurt you,' he reminded himself mentally. Part of his anxiety turned to confusion when he saw Bruce holding a camera.

"Roy, I need to document the injuries Oliver gave you." He didn't think Roy could get any paler, but he was wrong. "I'm sorry Roy. I'm sure this makes you uncomfortable, but it has to be done." Roy was going to protest, then quickly shut his mouth. The last thing he wanted was for Mr. Wayne to get mad at him for questioning him or talking back. He wrapped his arms tighter and put his head down. Bruce sighed internally. He caught Alfred's eye and Alfred gave him a nod of encouragement. "Let's start with something easy. Can you look up please?" Roy looked at him and Bruce took a picture of his face.

"Turn your head Master Roy," Alfred said. He held Roy's chin gently with his hand, despite the flinch it got from the teen. He gently guided Roy's head to the side so Bruce could document that too. He turned Roy's head to the other side. On this side, he could see Roy's eyes and his heart broke at how terrified they were. Bruce gently tapped his neck and Alfred nodded. "Lift your head please." He gently helped Roy tip his head back so Bruce could clearly see his neck. Both men were angered when they saw the dark, hand shaped bruises that wrapped around Roy's neck. "You're doing very good young sir."

"Alfred, can you unwrap his hand please?"

Roy barely blinked as Alfred lifted up his burned hand and unwrapped the bandages. "My word," Alfred gasped when he saw the second-degree burn. He held the hand gently so Bruce could take a picture. "How did this happen?" Roy looked away and the two men guessed they wouldn't be getting an answer. "It looks like it's been taken care of nicely, but perhaps we should have Dr. Thompkins take a look just in case."

"Did Oliver take you to a doctor after that happened?" Bruce asked gently. He could only imagine what stay they would've had to make up.

"He-he didn't," Roy answered quietly.

"He didn't take you to a doctor?" Roy shook his head. Of course not. "Can take your shirt off please?" Roy once again reminded himself that if he wanted to avoid more bruises he needed to listen and do what he was told. He gently took off his shirt and balled it up in his hands.

"My word," Alfred whispered. Roy's torso was covered in black and blue. Mixed in were bruises in different stages of healing, but they were overshadowed by the newer ones. Bruce took several pictures, then moved to the side. Alfred gently raised Roy's arm so Bruce could get a shot of his side, which was just as bruised as the front. While he held Roy's arm he noticed something. "Master Bruce." He gestured to the handprint on Roy's upper arm and the fingertips on his wrist. Bruce sighed and took pictures of them both. They moved to the other side and repeated the process. The bruising on the left shoulder was particularly bad, and Bruce remembered it was the one Clark had said had been recently dislocated. There were also multiple handprints on this arm and more fingertip bruises. "Turn this way, Master Roy." Roy turned so his feet were hanging off the side and Bruce could see his back.

"God fucking dammit," Bruce breathed, momentarily stunned.

"I'm sorry!" Roy apologized quickly.

"No, no it's not your fault Roy. You didn't do anything." He didn't mean to scare the teen, but the state of his back was….horrifying. He'd seen the video of Oliver whipping Roy with a belt, but now he could see just how damaging it had been. The welts on his back were deep, probably due to the immense arm upper body strength the archer possessed. Even worse there were place scars under and around the welts, telling Bruce that this had happened semi-frequently. There was also bruising and cuts making it impossible to see even an inch of untouched skin. Bruce took a couple of pictures. "Roy, I know you have an arrow wound on your leg, I need to see it." He could tell by the look on Roy's face this was making him deeply unhappy. It was a truer testament to how well Oliver had scared Roy that he still moved his pants down. As much as Bruce hated to make Roy feel like this, he knew they had to document the evidence. Roy still refused to look him in the eye as Bruce took a picture of the arrow wound on his thigh. "Ok, I think we're done." Alfred tried to get Roy comfortable while Bruce set the camera aside. He paused for a moment. There was a sneaking suspicion of something that he didn't like. "Roy, when was the last time you saw a doctor?"

"Two years ago."

"Two years? Oliver didn't take you to a doctor at all in the two years you lived with him?"

"No."

That explained a lot. Bruce gestured to Alfred and the two of them stepped away for a moment. "Explains how he got away with this. Any doctor who took one look at Roy would've reported Oliver to CPS."

"Money can buy a lot of silence Master Bruce."

Unfortunately, he knew Alfred was probably right. "Can you fix him up?"

"Of course sir, but I would suggest we have Dr. Thompkins do it. Master Roy is clearly in need of a professional."

"And a check-up. I'll give Leslie a call and explain the situation. Hopefully, she can come see him tomorrow."

"Very good sir. I shall patch him up until Dr. Thompkins is able to come."

"Thank you, Alfred." Bruce turned back to Roy, only to find his head was down.

"Give me your hand please Master Roy," Alfred said. He picked up Roy's hand and gently spread some aloe cream on it and re-wrapped it with a clean bandage.

"Roy," Bruce said, leaning down to try and look Roy in the eyes. "You did really good." Roy looked away and shifted again. Bruce put his hand on Roy's shoulder, only to have the teen pull away. He stepped back, suddenly hit with the gravity of the situation. Roy was covered, nearly head to toe, in injuries. He was terrified of them and couldn't stand anyone touching him. Two years of living with Oliver and this is what the outcome was. Bruce reached out and gently set his hand on Roy's knee. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Yes, sir?"

"Stop calling me- never mind. If that makes you more comfortable, then go ahead. I hope though that you'll start calling me Bruce. I want you to know that neither I nor Alfred, would ever, ever hit you. I would not hit if I was mad at you, or because I want to punish you in any way." Judging by the look on Roy's face he didn't believe that. "I also want you to know that you are safe here. Oliver doesn't know where you are and he can't reach you here. You don't have to worry about him." Again, Roy didn't look like he believed that at all. Bruce didn't blame him. If he was in Roy's position he didn't think he'd believe himself either. "Tomorrow I'm getting you checked out by a physician because you really need it. Today I want you to take it easy, which is better said than done with Dick around. Alfred will get you some clothes." He looked at Alfred who nodded in confirmation.

"Indeed. Are there any clothes, in particular, you desire Master Roy?"

Roy shook his head quickly. "No sir."

"Just….standard stuff Alfred. Take Dick with you, I'm sure he can help." Roy's head shot up, but neither man was looking at him, so they didn't notice. He didn't want to be left alone with Mr. Wayne. "Roy I want you to write down your sizes and give them to Dick."

"Yes, sir."

"Ok. I can….give you a tour while Alfred and Dick are gone if you want-"

"No! I mean, thank you Mr. Wayne, but I was wondering if I could take a nap, please sir?"

Bruce nodded, taken aback slightly by how Roy acted like he half-expected to be refused. "Of course. Did you have trouble sleeping last night?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's ok, it was….a very big night."

"Thank you. Can I go?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Thank you." Roy hopped down off the table and headed up the stairs. He was pretty sure he could find his way back to his bedroom. If not he could always find Dick and ask him for directions.

Bruce watched Roy go with a heavy heart. He sighed and pressed his hands against the table. "Murder is illegal. Murder is illegal. I shouldn't kill people….no matter how much they deserve it."

"Just keep telling yourself that Master Bruce," Alfred told him. "I dare say the news is only going to get worse from here."

"Unfortunately." He felt the guilt drowning him. Two years. Almost two years he knew that Oliver was a danger to Roy and he'd done nothing. "Good luck trying to keep Dick focused."

Alfred smiled. "I'm sure Master Dick shall enjoy his job immensely."

Meanwhile, upstairs, Roy managed to find his room, as well as a pen and paper inside the desk. He was writing down what Mr. Wayne had told him to when Dick knocked on his door. "Hi, Roy!"

"Hi, Dick."

"Alfie says I get to go with him to pick out your clothes."

"I know." He handed the paper to Dick. "Here. My clothes sizes."

"Got it!" Dick folded the paper up and put it in his pocket. "I'll see you when I get back!"

"Have fun." He watched Dick go, then quickly got up and shut the door behind him; hand hovered over the lock for a second. In the end, he decided against it and went over to his bed so he could crawl under the covers. He curled up into a ball and tried to relax. 'It's ok,' he thought. 'It's ok. It's ok.'

— —

"Roy!"

Roy bolted up and looked around in confusion. "Wha-"

"We're back!" Dick came running up to Roy's bed and climbed up on it. "Look!" He held up the bag he was holding.

"Dick," Bruce said, coming in with two more bags. "I told you not to wake him."

"He's awake."

"It's ok Mr. Wayne," Roy said quickly, not wanting Dick to get in trouble.

"Look what I got you!" Dick pulled out a black shirt with the Batman symbol on it. "Cool huh?"

"Master Dick was very proud of that," Alfred said, coming in with two more bags.

"I said I'd get those Alfred," Bruce said taking them.

"Master Bruce I'm more than capable of carrying two bags."

"Roy look!" Dick insisted. Roy blinked and realized Dick was waving another shirt in front of his face. This one had the S thing that he'd seen Superman wearing the night before.

"Thanks," Roy said.

"Master Dick took his job very seriously," Alfred assured him.

"I got you a Flash one too. Alfie wouldn't let me get you all superhero shirts though."

"You just had to get the Superman one Dick?" Bruce asked, eyeing they shirt with distaste.

"Yup! Roy likes it, right Roy?"

"Uh…" Roy swallowed. "Sure…"

"See?" He turned back to Roy. "Your other shirts are red and yellow cause that's the color of your costume! Socks too. Not all of them though. Alfred said you needed other colors too. Oh! Also-" he hopped off the bed and rummaged through one of the bags. "We got you these too." He handed a shoe box to a very startled Roy. "Open it, open it!" Roy opened the box to find a pair of sneakers. They were white with red arrows on the side. "You didn't give us shoe size, so we just guessed."

"Master Dick is very good at math, so it was probably accurate," Alfred said.

"Do you like them?!" Roy didn't say anything. He just stared at the shoes. His shoes. His first pair of shoes in two years. "Roy?"

"Roy is everything ok?" Bruce asked.

"You got me shoes?" Roy asked quietly.

"Well….yeah…" Dick said, confused. "You can't go outside barefoot. That's just silly."

Roy gingerly picked up one of the sneakers. "They're really mine?"

"…..yes that's why we're giving them to you." Dick looked at Bruce.

"Dick, why don't you go downstairs and get a snack?"

"But I want to keep showing Roy his new clothes!"

"Bring a snack for Roy too, I'm sure he's hungry after his nap."

"Ok."

"I shall assist you, Master Dick," Alfred said following.

"Alfie, I'm not going to mess up the kitchen again."

The two of them left and Bruce stood awkwardly. "Roy," he said. "Did Oliver….did he never give you shoes?"

Roy hesitated, then shook his head. "No. I outgrew the shoes I had when I got there and he never bought me another pair."

"Why?"

"He said that he was my guardian and he knew what was best for me. If he thought I needed shoes he'd get me some."

Bruce didn't quite know why, but that made him angry. "Well, these shoes are yours to keep until you outgrow them. When you do I'll buy you another pair."

'Yeah, sure.'

Dick came back carrying two popsicles. "Here Roy!" He handed one to Roy and started unwrapping his excitedly.

Roy looked up at Bruce as if asking for permission. "Go ahead," Bruce nodded. "Enjoy. Alfred and I will sort out your clothes. You can put them away where you want."

"Thank you, sir." Roy unwrapped his popsicle and took a bite, The cold stung his teeth, but he didn't care. It'd been a long time since he'd had sugar. He couldn't relax as he ate though, expecting Bruce to knock the treat out of his hands and smack him. It didn't happen though and he got to eat his popsicle in peace. 'It's not even lunchtime and I've had a popsicle and gotten shoes.'

"All done. We'll leave you and Dick alone to put your clothes away. I have work to do."

"As do I," Alfred informed them. "Lunch will be at noon."

"Mac and cheese right?!" Dick asked, grinning.

"Of course."

"Yes!" Alfred and Bruce left and Dick stood up. "Come on Roy, let's get your clothes put away."

Roy nodded. "Ok."

— —

Once he was alone in his study, Bruce pulled out his cell phone. "Leslie?"

"Bruce," Leslie answered, "Dick better have all his limbs."

"This isn't about Dick. Or…you know…"

"I do."

"Do you know who Oliver Queen is?"

"I've heard of him. He's one of your rich friends, right?"

"Believe me, he's no friend of mine. Two years ago he took in a boy named Roy. Long story short, Oliver was abusing Roy."

"Was?"

"Batman and Robin….with some assistance from the Justice League," he added in a quieter voice, "removed him from Oliver's care."

"Why didn't the Star City police do that? Why would the Justice League get involved?"

"Oliver Queen is the Green Arrow. Roy is- was Speedy."

"That makes sense then."

"Roy told me that Oliver never took him to a doctor in the two years he lived with him and he has some very bad injuries. I was wondering if you could come to the Manor tomorrow to treat him and give him a check-up?"

"Of course I will. I'll be there first thing in the morning."

"Thank you, Leslie."

"Anytime."

Bruce hung up and sat back in his chair. So far he was one day into taking care of Roy and already he wanted punch Queen from the top of a very tall building. 'No shoes. Not taking him to a doctor. Making him patrol when he's hurt.' He got the feeling he would learn just how deep hatred for a single person could go. Unfortunately, he knew it was only going to get worse from here. He'd told Roy that he'd never hit him, but he could tell the teen didn't believe him. 'Of course, he doesn't. He has no reason to trust me. How can he really know I'm not like Oliver?' Bruce rubbed his eyes briefly. 'I just hope Roy will believe me eventually.'