[To this day he still reveled in the attention, though he's less and less likely to admit he cares. A combination of age and pride and Bruce's vastly different style of approach no doubt.]

I don't need your will. [Huffs. As if he was gonna be in it anyway, Tim was the businessman, and he was pretty sure no one wanted anything to do with any part of the legacy from Damian's maternal side.] I'll just become super famous on my own and have all the money I need.

[Roy was talking about starting a band. That'd be cool.

He follows along to the med bay when prodded, making pains to show that he was fine even if they were back in HQ, posture still held straight and pride measured and straight, refusing to let the exhaustion creep in or the pain creep under the adrenaline. Totally fine, he wasn't the one that lost a heel.]

He already yelled at me when I told him where I was. [Fun fact, it was hard setting up a cross-dimensional communication line when you were being surrounded by weird alien monsters.]

Now he's gonna be double mad I lost my escrimas. And triple when he finds out what happened to your foot. Or quadruple.

[Maybe he should just run away now before Bruce benches him for life.]