A/N: It's Thanksgiving...in January. Yay! The second of four out of place holiday chapters. Enjoy!

Roy's hand came away black after he ran it down his bow. He looked at his sooty palm, working his fingers through the black powder. His face contorted and his body seemed to drape over the bow as he fingered the cracks in the wood. It required no effort at all for him to remove blackened paint chips from the wood. In a couple of places, he thought he could still make out the red paint, but it turned out to be his eyes playing tricks on him.

"What's that?" Bruce asked. He stepped back when Roy jumped to his feet, letting out a startled cry. Whatever was in his lap fell onto the floor. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's fine," Roy answered, but Bruce's attention was already on his bow. His body froze and his chest constricted a little as the man picked it up.

"What is this?"

"My-my bow."

"This is yours?"

"I-I brought it with me the night I left Star."

Searching his memory, Bruce could vaguely remember Roy having it that night. It was so long ago though and he'd been understandably focused on other things at the time. "Where did you get it?"

"Brave Bow made it for me."

"He made it?"

"Yeah. He made it and gave it to me on my 10th birthday."

"What happened to it?"

"The night I refused to kill someone, Ollie…. After my beating, Ollie threw it into the fire."

"He did?!" Bruce did his best to keep his voice measured. Oliver had destroyed a bow that Roy's adopted father, the man who'd raised Roy and who'd died slowly in front of him, had personally made for the boy. Anger started burning in his chest. That's when he noticed the looked Roy was given him. He was staring at the bow in Bruce's hands in fear. The anger started turning to confusion as Bruce tried to figure out why, and then it hit him. He hadn't known this was here. Roy had been hiding it from him. 'Of course, he's hiding it,' Bruce berated himself silently, holding the bow out for Roy to take. He almost flinched when Roy took it slowly like it was a trap. 'It's obviously important to him and Oliver destroyed it.' Roy held the bow close to his body, almost protectively. "Is there any hope of fixing it?"

Roy shook his head. "It's made entirely of wood. It's just too burned."

"I'm sorry, Roy. I'm sure it was really important to you."

"It was my most prized possession."

It honestly surprised Bruce there were still things Oliver could take from Roy. "I wish I could fix it for you."

"…Thanks." Bruce stood there for a moment, before leaving. After he left, Roy stood staring at his bow for a minute, then set it down under the bed. He shivered a little bit, trying to force the images of it burning from his mind. As he walked into the bathroom, he winced as he could hear the wood cracking in the heat. His hands got warm from pulling it out. Standing in front of the mirror, Roy yanked on his hair to pull himself back into reality. His hand hovered in his red hair. The locks were so long they reached down past his knuckles. The fingers ran idly through it. Suddenly frowning, he searched his bedroom until he found a pair of scissors. Without pausing, Roy went straight back into the bathroom

Roy's hands were shaking a little bit, but he lifted a few locks of his with one and pressed an open blade of the scissors against them.

"What're you doing?" Dick asked, causing Roy to jump.

"Jeez, Dick, don't sneak up on people like that!"

"Sorry." The boy was still in his uniform, so he must've just gotten home from school. "What're you doing?"

"Nothing."

"It doesn't look like nothing." He took a few steps forward, feeling as though he would scare Roy by walking too fast. "It looks like you're cutting your hair."

"I am."

"Ok." Dick disappeared back into Roy's bedroom, making the teen stared at the door in confusion. A few seconds later he returned, somehow carrying a chair with his tiny arms. He set it down behind Roy and stood on it. "Give me the scissors."

"Why?"

"I'm cutting your hair." Dick took them from Roy's grasp gently.

"Do you know how to cut hair?"

'Well my mom used to cut mine so….how hard can it be?"

Roy shrugged. "Go for it, I guess."

Dick started cutting Roy's hair, trying to making it as even as possible without anything to actually use. After a minute he stopped. "Is that short enough?"

"Can you grab it?" Dick gently grabbed a smile fistful of Roy's hair.

"Yes."

"Then it's too long." Dick trimmed it down again.

"How about now?"

"Can you grab it?"

"…..yes."

"Then it's too long." Taking the hint, Dick kept going until he could no longer grab it. Nodding to himself, he made sure it was even all over Roy's head and smiled.

"How does it look?"

Roy studied his reflection as Dick idly brushed pieces of his hair off his shoulders. "It's short."

"Yes."

Roy nodded. "Good."

"Come on, let's go play video games. I'm on vacation so we've got 5 days to play."

When they went down to dinner that night, Bruce and Alfred noticed Roy's haircut immediately. Bruce opened his mouth to say something, preferably about how the boys shouldn't be playing with scissors, but Dick shook his head. He gave Bruce a pleading look to let it go. After a moment, Bruce nodded and Alfred followed his lead, neither saying anything.

— —

In all honesty, Roy didn't know what to expect on Thanksgiving. However, he definitely wasn't expecting to be woken up just after the sun came up. Dick came running into his bedroom, tugging the blankets off the teen with surprising strength. "Roy, wake up! You can't sleep in!"

"Dick," he moaned, pulling his blanket back over his body. "It's 7 am!"

"So?! Come on, get up!"

"Why?"

"Everyone else is up!" As if to illustrate the point Bruce walked into the room, look about as awake as Roy felt.

"Get up Roy," he said. "If I had to get up, so do you."

"We can watch the parade!"

"You like that parade?" Roy asked, voice muffled by the pillow he'd pulled over his head.

"You don't?"

"I've never really watched it."

"You're missing out." Dick slipped off the bed and pulled the blankets off, prompting Roy to curl up into a ball. "Come on!"

"Fine, fine." Roy sat up and stretched. "You're too excited."

"Wait till Christmas," Bruce told him, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Dick loves Christmas."

"Because it's amazing!" Dick smiled.

Roy followed Dick downstairs to the dining room where Alfred, for some reason, already had breakfast ready. 'Alfred is psychic,' Roy decided. 'There's no other explanation. He's just psychic.' It would explain how he always knew they were doing something they weren't supposed to.

"Alfie makes the best Thanksgiving dinners," Dick said as they ate.

"Thank you, Master Dick," Alfred said, "I aim to please."

"What was Thanksgiving like with your adopted dad?"

Roy froze when he realized everyone was looking at him. He swallowed and looked down at his plate. "We'd have dinner with family friends usually. There was always a lot of people and a lot of food. It was a really big event."

"That's cool. What about with Oliver?"

Roy's interest stayed with his plate instead of the other people at the table. "We didn't really celebrate Thanksgiving…"

"Really?" The confusion was evident on Dick's face.

"Yeah. Ollie….Ollie said he didn't want to waste money on a big dinner or anything like that. Thanksgiving was just another day." Another day where he'd had to spend "quality time" with his guardian, trying to keep Oliver from beating him. "I didn't really care anyway."

Bruce wasn't sure if he believed that. 'How could he "not care" if he went from having a huge dinner with family and friends to potentially being starved Thanksgiving night?' Just the thought of Roy going hungry on Thanksgiving, of all days, made Bruce's blood boil. He took a deep breath and got it under control though. "Thanksgiving isn't exactly a huge deal around here, but we are having dinner," he said.

"Alfred, can I still make the pie?" Dick asked hopefully.

"Of course Master Dick," Alfred answered. "As long as we don't have a repeat of last year."

Roy blinked. "What happened last year?"

Alfred gave Dick a look, to which the boy rolled his eyes. "You burn one pie and no one ever lets you forget it."

"If I remember correctly the entire kitchen was filled with smoke."

"Not the entire kitchen…."

"Master Roy, perhaps you'd like to help."

"I-I can't cook," Roy said cautiously.

"Neither can Dick," Bruce assured him.

"Hey!" Dick objected. He looked at Roy with pleading eyes. "Come on, Roy! Please?" Roy sighed. Why was it so hard to resist Dick when he looked like that?

"Ok, fine."

"Yes!" Dick finished his breakfast and ran around the table to grab Roy's hand. "Let's go!"

"Go where?"

"To watch the parade!" Dick flipped over the couch, somersaulted across the cushions, and grabbed the remote. "The parade is starting!"

"You really like this parade, don't you?'

"It's so colorful! There's balloons and dancing and acrobats! It kind of reminds me of the circus."

Roy nodded as he sat next to him. "Ok." Bruce walked in, still holding his coffee.

"Bruce, come watch with us."

"Are you sure you want me to watch with you Dick?" he asked. "You have Roy this year-" He stopped when Dick turned around and gave him a pleading look. "Fine." He caught Roy smiling a little bit from the corner of his eye, but quickly looked away before the teen realized he'd noticed. The three of them watched the parade with Roy and Dick on the couch and Bruce sipping his coffee in an armchair. At one point acrobats were flipping and cartwheeling their way down the street. Dick was excited at first but then started critiquing them.

"That one on the left, with the red hair, she needs to kick her legs up more. That blonde guy should jump a few more inches. His flip would have a much better landing that way."

"What are you, some kind of expert?" Roy asked.

Dick smirked. "Expert? I'm a professional."

"A professional dweeb."

"Hey!" Dick elbowed him in the ribs, then froze when he realized it might not have been the best move. Roy didn't freak out though. He smiled and elbowed Dick back.

"You heard me." Bruce hid his smile behind his coffee mug. It was nice to see Roy relaxed and the boys were friends. Roy needed a friend and Dick obviously loved the company. It gave Bruce some satisfaction that they were so close.

— —

"Ok, you have to cut and peel the apples," Dick said. "I'll mix the filling."

"Why do I have to cut them?" Roy asked, already grabbing a knife.

"I said so."

"Who put you in charge?!"

"This was my idea."

Roy flicked an apple peeling at him, which Dick batted away easily. "Why are you so insistent on making this pie?"

"I want to help Alfred." He added cinnamon, accidentally tipping the bag too far and putting in too much. He looked into the bowl and shrugged. "I used to help my mom cook all the time."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We baked cookies and cooked hot dogs and pasta. Sometimes, if the circus stopped somewhere with nice weather or it was summer, we'd cook outside. Sometimes the whole circus would even have a bonfire!"

"Sounds like fun."

"It was the best." Dick cracked an egg against the side of the bowl, then looked inside to search for possible eggshell fragments. "Sometimes my aunt or my dad would cook with us too. My cousin never wanted to help us though."

Roy frowned and looked up at him, momentarily stopping in his cutting. "You had a cousin?"

"Yeah. He was a couple years older than me. We were so close though, he was more like a brother than a cousin. He-he was your age, actually."

"What was his name?"

"John. He was actually kind of like you. You would've liked him." He was mixing the filling, apparently oblivious to the look he was getting from the teen. It was a little strange for Roy to hear so much about Dick's family. Despite living with him for 9 months, Roy had rarely heard about Dick's family. Beyond their conversation in the gym all those months ago and the rare comment when he was having a nightmare, it had never come up in conversation. Which, when Roy really thought about it, was strange considering how open and talkative Dick was. Dick stopped stirring the filling and looked up, now noticing the look he was getting. "What?"

"Nothing." Roy shook his head and held up the bowl of apples, now peeled and cut. "What's next?" They made the pie crust with their combined efforts. Roy was rolling it out into a thin sheet, completely immersed in his task and oblivious to the mischievous smile on Dick's face. The younger boy took a handful of flour and threw it on Roy. The teen coughed and jumped back. "Hey!" he shouted while Dick cackled. "It's not that funny." Dick simply kept laughing, practically doubled-over. Roy eyed the bag of flower, then grabbed a handful himself, and threw it in the boy's face. Dick coughed and wiped it away from his eyes before he could open them.

"Dude!" Roy laughed back at him, causing Dick to throw more flour at him. Roy's hand reached out and found the brown sugar instead, but it didn't matter. He threw a handful at Dick, giving his black hair a light brown coating. "You feeling brave?"

"In front of a little kid?" Roy audibly scoffed, making Dick grin in defiance.

"Who you calling little?" They threw a handful of their respective powders at each other. Dick backflipped away, then dodged to the side. Roy grabbed the entire bag of brown sugar and chased after him. Dick kept throwing handfuls of flour over his shoulder at Roy. This continued for several minutes until they literally ran into Alfred. The old butler stood completely immobile as the two boys fell on the floor from the impact, spilling half the contents of their respective bags. Alfred didn't say anything, merely turning his head slightly to the side and raising one eyebrow in a disapproving way.

"Sorry Alfred," the two boys said in unison. Alfred still said nothing, simply crossing his arms and looking down at them.

"We'll clean it up Alfie," Dick assured him. "Promise."

Roy nodded in agreement. "Absolutely." Alfred still didn't say anything, but simply walked away. Dick and Roy looked at each other as they got up.

"Alfred never looks that mad."

"That was mad?" Dick nodded.

"Alfred isn't like most people. He doesn't yell and stuff when he's mad. He just…gets mad in an Alfred-sort-of-way."

"I can tell."

"We should finish the pie and clean this up before he comes back." Making the rest of the pie went simply and straightforward. They got all the pieces together without creating an even bigger mess. Cleaning up the spilled flour and brown sugar took a while since they'd managed to get it everywhere. Including all over themselves. Once they were done Roy took a shower to get all the powder out of his hair and off his skin. The flour made him look even paler than his normal skin tone. Dick was done before him and was in the study, excitedly telling Bruce about a project he was working on in school. " -which is really weird, because he never makes us present things twice in the same month. I think he's doing it to be mean."

"I'm sure your teachers aren't being mean Dick," Bruce replied idly, looking at something in a folder.

"He says that it's because in middle school they make you give presentations all the time. Is that true? Will I have to do it a lot in middle school?"

"Why would you be nervous about this?" Bruce's back was turned to Roy as he walked in. "You're a performer. You should love being in front of people."

"Maybe he only likes performing in tights." Bruce and Dick both jumped, turning quickly to look at Roy. It took the teen a few seances to realize he'd just said his thoughts out loud and he quickly put his hands over his mouth. "I'm sorry," he mumbled through them. "I'm sorry." Dick scowled, but in a way that made him look like an angry puppy; while Bruce looked shocked, but quickly defaulted back into neutral. Dick stuck his tongue out.

"Says you!" He attacked Roy, trying to wrestle him to the ground. While they were doing that, Bruce took a moment to marvel at the fact that Roy had been able to sneak up on him. It would've impressed him more if he could forget that it was a skill Roy had needed to survive with Oliver.

'Better not to think about that now,' he decided, watching as Dick easily pinned Roy down. 'Roy's here. He's safe and he's happy.' At least, Bruce hoped he was. True, he didn't have any exact proof that Roy was happy in Gotham, but he hoped he was.

"I win!" Dick declared, sitting on Roy's back with the teen's arms pulled behind his back. Roy didn't say anything, but Bruce did notice the slight look of discomfort on Roy's face.

"Dick," he said warningly. "Let him go." Dick got up, somersaulting backward off of Roy's back. Alfred walked in just as the boys were getting to their feet.

"Dinner is ready," he informed them. Dick beamed and grabbed Roy's hand. He pulled him down the hall to the dining room without saying anything. Roy's eyes widened comically when he saw how much food was on the table. Dick looked back at him and laughed.

"That was how I reacted my first year. Come on!" They sat down just as Bruce and Alfred came in. "Are we eating now?"

"Yes, we're eating now," Alfred smiled.

"Alfred, sit next to me!"

"Of course Master Dick." Bruce paused as he was about to sit down in his usual seat. Normally he sat at the head of the table and the boys sat on either side of him. At the moment they were sitting at their usual least with Alfred sitting next to Dick. Deciding to try and make Roy feel more included, Bruce chose instead to sit next to him. Roy didn't tense but did look slightly apprehensive. Alfred gave Bruce a subtle nod of approval. Bruce cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Let's dig in before it gets cold," he said. Roy only hesitated for a few seconds before filling his plate, which made Bruce's night.

"Alfred, what're you thankful for?" Dick asked, shoveling a large bite of mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full, Dick."

"I am thankful to have you three," Alfred told Dick, making the boy grin widely. "What are you grateful for, young sir?"

"I'm thankful that there's a new Robin Hood comic coming out next month and that we're all together." He looked across the table. "Bruce?"

Bruce opened his mouth, fully prepared to just dodge the question, but one look from Alfred told him he should rethink that. "I'm um….thankful we can all enjoy this wonderful feast Alfred prepared."

"And the apple pie Roy and I made!"

"And the apple pie."

Dick smiled in satisfaction and looked expectantly at Roy. "What about you Roy?" Roy was looking down at his plate. He'd stopped eating and was playing with his food. "Roy?" Roy swallowed.

"I…, " he said, unsure. "I'm thankful to be safe and that I'm not hungry. I'm really thankful to be here." Bruce felt like maybe he should….put his hand on Roy's shoulder or something, but then decided against it. Luckily, he had Dick and Alfred.

"We're thankful that you're here too Roy."

Alfred nodded in agreement. "We're incredibly thankful you're safe Master Roy and we're happy you're here. Right, Master Bruce?"

"Uh….yes. Of course." Roy looked away again, going back to his food. Truthfully, Bruce was thankful that Roy was away from Oliver. He was happy that Roy felt safe. There was certainly a lot they had to be thankful for this year.

— —

It was later that night when Roy heard it. He was walking to his bedroom after grabbing a book he'd left in the library when he heard someone crying. It was soft and a little hard to make out, but it was definitely there. He stopped in the hall, trying to remember where all the occupants of the Manor were. Alfred finishing up cleaning the kitchen and Bruce had disappeared in the direction of the Batcave. The only person left was Dick. He wandered towards Dick's room and lightly kicked on the door. "Dick?" he asked. There was no response, only more crying. Hesitating for a second, he opened the door cautiously. Dick was sitting on the floor next to his bed. He was curled up in a ball and sobbing quietly. "Dick?" Worry started taking over in Roy's mind. "Are you ok?" He sat down next to the boy, who shook his head and hugged Roy fiercely. Roy wrapped his arms around the small, quivering frame and held him close. "What's wrong?"

"I-I miss them…" Dick whispered, still crying.

"Them?" It took Roy a minute to think of it. "Your family?"

Dick nodded, face pressed into Roy's shoulder. He took a shaky breath. "Sometimes it doesn't hurt so much, but on holidays like today-" He couldn't go on and just kept crying. There was no need for him to go on though. Roy hugged him tight and rested his head on Dick's. He didn't really know what to say, so he said what he wished someone had said to him after Brave Bow died.

"It's ok to feel sad. You'll feel better eventually though. Everything's going to be ok." He wasn't really sure if what he was saying was the best, but apparently, it was since Dick cuddled closer. He kept crying for a few minutes while Roy hugged him. Eventually, though, he was able to calm down a little bit.

"You remind me of him." He looked up at Roy. "My cousin. You're a lot like him. You-You would've liked him." He started crying again, hugging Roy closer. "I'm really happy you're here though."

"You are?" Dick nodded into his shirt.

"I like when you're here. We play games and hang out and when you're here….I feel better." He sniffled. "Like we're a family."

Roy blinked. "I'm glad you like having me around." He hugged Dick closer. Dick kept crying and clinging to Roy like he was a life preserver to the world.

"Please don't go away like them… Please…."

"I'm not going anywhere, Dick. I promise."