A/N: Time for a new chapter! Yay!

Roy really didn't want to see the physician. Dick kept insisting that, like everyone else, that she was really nice and wouldn't hurt him. It was starting to make Roy think Dick lived in a deep state of denial. He knew for a fact not everyone was nice and caring; evidenced by what had led him to this situation. Whether this doctor lady was nice or not, Roy didn't want to see her. Despite how nice it sounded to have someone professional look at his injuries, he couldn't risk it. It brought terror to his heart when he thought about how mad Oliver was going to be when he found out other people knew about what had been happening. He didn't try to voice his opposition with Bruce though. So far he hadn't done anything to warrant getting hit, but then again Oliver had waited until Roy had been there for two weeks before slapping him for the first time. Roy wanted to put off the inevitable until some of his older wounds were healed, so he stayed quiet. It didn't make him walk any faster though as Dick all but dragged him down the stairs. They stopped in the foyer and Roy hid behind Dick.

"Don't worry Roy," Dick assured him after watching the teen jump at a knock on the door. "You'll like Dr. Leslie. She's really nice."

Alfred opened the door and stepped aside welcomingly. "Welcome, Dr. Thompkins."

Leslie entered the manor and smiled at him. "Thank you, Alfred."

"Thank you for coming, Leslie," Bruce said shaking her hand.

"Of course Bruce."

"Hi, Dr. Leslie!" Dick beamed.

"Hi, Dick." Leslie's eyes traveled to the teenager who appeared to be trying to hide behind the boy. "You must be Roy." Roy stepped back, but Dick stepped aside, letting Leslie get a better look at him. "I'm Dr. Leslie Thompkins." She could tell just by giving him an external examination that he was in need of medical attention. "Dick, can you take Roy to the bat cave please?"

"Yup!" Dick snagged Roy's hand and led him to Bruce's study.

Leslie turned to Bruce. "I want you to wait up here."

"But-" Bruce protested, but one look for Leslie shut him up.

"Your presence is making him uncomfortable. I need him to relax while I'm treating him."

"Fine."

"Is there anything definitive you can tell me about his condition?"

"His left arm was dislocated and set within the last two weeks. He also has broken ribs."

"Ok. I'll see what I can do for him."

"If he tells about what happened, you will tell me, right?"

"No. Doctor-patient confidentiality." She walked away, leaving Bruce frustrated behind her. When she got down to the Bat cave and found Dick had already made Roy sit on the examination table. "Dick, why don't you go upstairs please?"

"But Roy likes it when I stay," Dick protested.

"He will be fine. Upstairs please."

"Ok." Dick gave Roy one last smile before heading up the stairs.

Roy shifted under the gaze of the doctor. She didn't say anything as she set down her bag and took out some papers. "Roy." Roy looked up at her. "It's ok dear. Can you tell me your full name?"

"Roy Harper Jr."

"How old are you?"

"14."

"Ok." She set her papers aside and stepped up to him. "Look into the light." Roy sat tensely and looked into the light. She took it away and made him follow her pen. It felt unreal. He hadn't been to a doctor since before he'd moved in with Oliver. She looked in his mouth next, but to Roy's surprise didn't ask about his missing tooth. She checked his reflexes and listened to his heartbeat and breathing. Roy thought he saw her frown briefly as she listened to his breathing. When she was done she hung her stethoscope around her neck and made some notes on her paper. "Can I see your hand?" Roy hesitated, hiding his hand behind him slightly. "I'm just looking. I won't ask how you got it." Roy slowly moved his hand out and let her unwrap it. He looked away as she examined it. A second-degree burn covering the entire surface of his palm. She shook her head sadly. "Does it hurt? Don't lie to me, I'm very good at telling when people are lying."

Roy didn't doubt that. "Sometimes."

"Did you ever take medicine for it?" He shook his head. "Did you treat it with something?"

"I-I put antibacterial cream on two times a day and Alfred put aloe on it yesterday."

Leslie nodded. "Good." She looked through a cabinet of medical bottles until she found the one she needed. "I'm going to put this cream on your hand. It should keep it disinfected and help it heal faster. Unfortunately, this will most likely scar given the size and degree." She re-wrapped his hand and set it down gently in his lap. "Bruce told me your shoulder was recently dislocated."

"N-not recently. Over a week ago. It's fine now."

"How long was it dislocated for?"

"Three days…"

Leslie nodded. "After it was set did you use it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"How often and for what?"

"Archery mostly. Almost every day."

Leslie stepped to his side and gently put her hand on his shoulder. She moved Roy's arm in random directions, feeling the joint as it moved. She kept an eye on his face as she did, going the look of pain that would flash across his face in certain positions. "It was set correctly, which is good. However, given the length of time it was dislocated for and how much you used it, you'll need a sling for a few weeks."

Roy swallowed as she opened a cabinet, looking for something. "Are-are you sure? I-I can use it fine."

"I'm very sure. It causes you pain to use it, I can tell." She turned around with a sling in her hands. "If you don't give the joint proper time to rest, you will risk damaging the tendons."

The word damage made Roy's heart stop. Damage meant permanent and no archery. Roy didn't like the idea of having limited mobility, a sling meant less chance to block a kick or punch, but he didn't want to lose the ability to shoot a bow, so he nodded. "Ok."

"We'll put it on after."

"Ok."

"Can you take your shirt off?"

"Why?"

"You have injuries I need to look at."

Roy hesitated, then remembered that she had yet to ask him how they were caused. Hoping it'd stay that way, he slowly took his shirt off so she could look. "You're just looking, right?"

"And treating what needs to be treated so you can be healthy."

"Ok." Roy sat still but was still kind of tense while she examined him.

"Bruce told me you have broken ribs. For now, you should just take pain medicine and rest. No exercise until further notice." She moved to his back and shook her head sadly. She looked at the welts and gashes on his back. "The good news is these don't need stitches. Some ointment and bandages and it'll be fine. There will probably be more scars back here, unfortunately." She applied the ointment and carefully applied gauze over the worse of them to keep them clean. "You can put your shirt back on."

Roy did so happily. "Are we done?"

Leslie smiled at him. "Not yet. You're doing a really good job though. Barely a fidget out of you." She made a few quick notes on her papers. "I need to look at your leg." Roy moved his pants down so she could look at the arrow wound. "What happened here?" she asked, gently examining a stitched wound.

"Gunshot."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not really."

"Does the other one hurt?"

"….No."

"I'm sure. Looks clean. I'm going to give you some pain medicine that should cover all your injuries."

"Thank you." Roy fixed his pants and sat still again.

"Anytime." Leslie made more notes on her papers again.

"What-what're you writing?"

"Just making notes about the injuries and what the treatment is." She picked up the sling up again. "Time to put this on."

"Ok." Roy reluctantly allowed her to slip the sling over his head and fit his arm inside. She secured it to his body so that he couldn't move it.

"Don't use this arm for three weeks."

"Yes, Dr…."

"Leslie. You can call me Dr. Leslie."

"Dr. Leslie."

"We're almost done, don't worry. I just have a couple more thing to go over."

"O-ok."

"Come over here." Roy hopped carefully off the table and walked over to where she was standing by a scale. Not needing instructions for this part, he stepped on so she could weigh him. After that she had him stand why his back against the wall so she could measure his height. "You can sit down again."

Roy sat back down, somehow feeling that this whole experience wasn't as bad as he thought it was going to be. "Are we done?"

"Almost. I just have a couple of questions for you."

That wasn't something Roy liked the sound of. "Ok."

"How often did you eat?"

"Every day."

Leslie smiled gently. "Roy." Roy raised his head. "You're not going to be in trouble. I'm not here to get anyone in trouble. I just need to know so I can do my job and keep you healthy." Roy looked away again. "I won't tell Bruce either."

"Y-you won't?"

"No, I won't."

Roy fidgeted briefly. "I usually ate every day. Three times day."

"Just three times a day?"

"Yes. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

"How often did you go without meals?"

"Two…or three….times a week."

"Ok. What did you eat?"

"Oatmeal for breakfast. Sandwich, peanut butter usually, for lunch. Whatever Oliver made for dinner."

"How much would you eat when you had dinner?"

"Um….less than half a bowl full."

Leslie nodded. "Thank you, Roy. You did very well today." She gathered her papers and a helped him down from the table. "I'll be back in three weeks to check on your progress. While I'm gone I want you to do two things for me."

"What are they?"

"I want you to tell Bruce, Alfred, or Dick if your inures are causing you pain." Roy nodded slowly. "I also need you to try and eat more. Can you do those two things for me?'

Roy nodded. quickly. "Yes, Dr. Leslie."

"Good." Leslie handed him a couple of pills and Roy swallowed them quickly. She didn't comment on it but gave him a sympathetic look. When they exited the grandfather look they found Bruce was at his desk in the study. "Go find Dick. I'll see you in three weeks."

"Ok Dr. Leslie. Thank you."

"Anytime dear. Don't forget what I said."

"Yes, Dr. Leslie." Roy left the room quickly, trying to avoid making eye contact with Bruce. He wanted to put off Bruce finding out he couldn't properly defend himself.

Once Roy left Bruce turned to Leslie. "Well?" he asked.

"You have your work cut out for you. There's nothing I can do for the bruises. I've prescribed an ointment to help that burn and pain medication, both of which you have downstairs. I put his left arm in a sling, and he's not to use it for three weeks. Other than that, only time can heal his wounds. The most pressing issue of his health is his weight."

"His weight?"

"Yes. He's not extremely malnourished, but he is underweight for his height and age."

"How underweight?"

"30 pounds. From what he told me, I think Oliver Queen was perpetually starving him. Not starving him to the point of dying, but enough that he wasn't eating enough or as often as he should've been. You and Alfred need to get him to eat more."

"Understood."

"Physically he's not in amazing health, but he could be worse off. Mentally however….I'm no psychologist Bruce, but judging by the marks on his body he's been through a traumatic ordeal. You need to be careful with him."

"I will."

"I mean it. Don't force to do things he isn't ready for."

"I won't."

"Good. I'll be back in three weeks to check his progress."

"Thank you for coming today, Leslie."

"It's my pleasure, Bruce. He's going to need all the pep he can get."

"I shall accompany you out," Alfred informed her. The left the room, leaving Bruce to think about the task that lay ahead.

— —

Roy went back to his room and sat on his bed. It didn't take Dick long to find him. "Hey, Roy!" He hopped onto the bed and sat across from his friend. "How was your visit from Dr. Leslie?"

"Fine, I guess."

"She's nice, right?"

"I-I guess."

Dick smiled. "Told you. So, what'd you want to do?"

"I don't know. I can't really do a lot right now." He gestured to his sling.

"True. We could go down to the kitchen and sneak a snack."

"Uh…" Roy shifted and pulled away from Dick, pushing himself against his headboard. "I don't think so"

"Come on, you're so thin! My mom would say you're nothing but skin and bones. One snack won't hurt." He grabbed Roy's non-injured arm and pulled his off the bed.

"Dick, I really don't think we should do this-"

"It's fine. Come on!" Dick ran down to the kitchen dragging an anxious Roy behind him. No matter what Roy said, it didn't seem to make any difference to Dick. He was still being taken downstairs, to what he assumed would be a trip that would end badly for both of them. Dick poked his head into the kitchen. "Good, it's empty." He pulled Roy in, ignoring the teen's protests.

"Dick we should go back upstairs."

"It's fine Roy."

"We-we should go play a game or-"

"We can play a game after." Dick let go of Roy's hand and climbed up on the counter. He sat on it and pulled the cookie jar closer to himself. He took one out and stuffed it in his mouth. "Here." He handed one to Roy, who backed away like it was poisonous.

"I don't want one."

"Come on." Dick waved the cookie up and down. "You know you do."

"I really don't."

"No one's going to notice."

Roy walked closer slowly. "I'm really not hungry-"

"Just eat one. Come on."

Roy saw the pleading, puppy-dog look on Dick's face and sighed. "Ok. One." He took the cookie from Dick and put it in his mouth. Just as he was about to take a bite someone yelled from behind.

"Dick! Roy! What're you two doing?"

Roy spun around in the same moment the cookie jar fell off the counter. It shattered on the ground, seeming to echo in Roy's ears. Panic gripped his insides. "Oh no-" he squeaked.

"Whoops," Dick muttered as he hopped down.

Bruce sighed in agitation. "What are you two doing in here?! Dick you know you're not supposed to be sneaking cookies." He saw the petrified look on Roy's face and guilt flooded him. He reached out for the scared teen. "Roy-"

Roy saw the hand and dropped to the ground. "Sorry!" he gasped, curling into a ball. "Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry."

"Roy-"

"Sorry! It was an accident! I swear it was an accident!" Bruce and Dick both stared at him in shock.

"Roy-" Bruce stopped when he realized Roy wasn't listening.

"I won't do it again! I swear!"

"Roy!" Bruce yelling caused Roy's to very suddenly stop stammering his apologies. It didn't stop his shaking or the look of absolute petrification in his eyes.

Alfred came in and took in the scene in front of him. "Sir, what's wrong?"

"I upset him," Bruce said. "I yelled at the boys and caused him to have a panic attack."

"You need to comfort him, sir."

"I think I'm the last person he wants to be near right now."

Alfred sighed and look down at Dick. "Master Dick, it is you Master Roy trusts more than anyone."

Dick frowned. "But I don't know what to do."

"Just do what you usually do," Bruce suggested.

"Ok. I'll try." Dick walked towards slowly Roy, trying not to scare him more. "Roy. Roy, it's me, Dick." He carefully avoided the pieces of the shattered cookie jar and crouched down so he and Roy were at eye level. "Come on Roy. It's Dick, you know me."

"It's not I- Dick I knocked the-the thing-"

"No, you didn't. You didn't knock it off. That was me."

Bruce sighed and leaned closer to Alfred. "Can you take Roy upstairs please so I can talk to Dick?"

"Of course sir," Alfred replied. He approached the two boys just as Dick was helping Roy stand.

"Come with me Master Roy and we shall go to your room." Roy blinked, then shrunk back.

"It's ok Roy," Dick assured him, passing off the pale and trembling hand to Alfred. "He won't hurt you."

"This way." Alfred led Roy out. He glanced back, dreading leaving Dick alone with Bruce.

After they left Bruce turned to his younger ward. "You know you're not supposed to take cookies without asking."

"I know. I just wanted to have some fun with Roy."

"Regardless, you shouldn't have been breaking the rules."

"Yes, Bruce."

"I want you to clean this up and apologize to Alfred for breaking the jar and ruining the cookies."

"Yes, Bruce."

"Good."

"Bruce, can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why did Roy react like that? He was really freaked out."

Bruce sighed. "Roy reacted like that because he thought I was going to hit him."

"Why?! You'd never do something like that!"

"I know that, but in the environment Roy's coming from, that's not as true."

Dick looked down sadly. "I wish we could go back and help him."

"We can't. The best we can do is try to help him now."

"I know. How can we make Roy believe us?"

"I don't know Dick, but we'll figure it out."

— —

Once Roy got to his room and Alfred released him, he shut himself inside. Seeking his bow, he got on the ground and joined it under his bed. He held the burned wood to his body. "I messed up," he muttered. "I messed up and now he's going to hit me." Bruce had every reason to hit him. He'd tried to eat between meals and broken something. If it were Oliver he'd have been on the floor in pain right now. He curled up and squeezed his eyes shut. "Please don't hurt me," he whispered to the empty room. "Please don't. I'll behave. I promise." After an inconceivable amount of time, someone knocked on his door.

"Roy," Dick said. "Can I come in?'

"Y-yes."

The door opened and he saw Dick's feet enter the room. "Where are you?"

"Here."

Dick knelt down and peered under the bed. "What're you doing under here?"

Roy's eyes desperately search Dick's face. Confusion hit him when he realized Dick didn't look like he was in pain, nor did he have bruises on his face. "Did-did you get in trouble?"

"Yeah." Dick laid down on his stomach so his head was under the bed. "I had to clean the mess up and Alfred said I need to buy him a new cookie jar."

"Does it hurt a lot?"

"Does what hurt?"

"Getting in trouble."

Dick stared at him in confusion, then realization dawned on him. "No, no Roy that's not what happened. Bruce didn't hit me."

Roy stared at him, conflicted. "You're ok?"

"I'm ok."

Another pair of shoes appeared in the doorway. "Dick," Bruce said, can you leave Roy and I alone for a minute?"

Much to Roy's despair, Dick crawled out and stood up. "Sure," he said.

'Maybe this is for the better,' Roy thought as Dick's feet left. 'I don't want him to see this.'

Bruce's feet moved closer to the bed. "Roy, come out from under there."

Roy gently put his bow down and wiggled his way out. He was tense, expecting to get kicked while he was vulnerable. It didn't happen though and he managed to get himself out and standing. "Yes, sir?"

"I realize that I didn't tell you the rules, and I shouldn't have expected the 10-year-old tell you about them. We don't allow Dick to have snacks without asking, especially Alfred's cookies. I also usually don't allow him to have snacks before lunch. Understand?"

Roy nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Ok. If you want something to eat just ask Alfred."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm not going to punish you since it was Dick's idea and he should know better. I do expect you to remember this for next time."

"Yes, sir."

"Ok then." Bruce stood awkwardly for a minute before leaving.

Roy sat down on his bed. He'd been there too, so part of him felt bad that Dick had taken all the punishment. 'I expect you to remember this for next time.' Roy knew he'd gotten off lucky this time. 'Don't get comfortable,' he thought bitterly, falling back against his pillows. 'Soon he'll figure out that I'm stupid and I aggravate really easily. He won't be able to not do it next time.' Someone knocked on his door again. His heart stopped, thinking that it was Bruce coming back.

"Roy," Dick said from the other side of the door. "It's me! Can I come in?"

"Yeah." Roy sat up as the door opened.

"Wanna play a game?"

"Sure."

"Great! Come on, we can play cards in the library."

"Can-can we play in here?"

Dick saw the unsure look on Roy's face and nodded. "Yeah, we can play in here. I'll go get the cards, ok?"

"Ok." Roy watched Dick go. 'At least here I have him. At least here we can protect each other.'