Roy heard something, someone, coming up to the rooftop too, and there was a part of him that took a second to be relieved it wasn't anybody who'd arrest him anyway. At least there were no sirens or anything going off, so he'd assumed it wasn't that. And then, out of some instinct, honed from the dreams he'd been watching the last couple of nights, or maybe from the fact he had been trained to do it the last several years, he whipped an arrow from his quiver, had it nocked, in case he needed it, and pressed a little further in the shadows, waiting and watching to see who had come up here too.
Some kind of suicide? He'd been vaguely aware that people did that sort of thing here, there'd been a story not that long ago, but probably not, given the glimpses of movement that he noticed. And not any kind of threat, clearly, so...he went ahead and let the arrow drop back into his hand, where he'd still have it if he needed it (and where had that thought come from? He'd never actually shot at moving people targets before), and instead took a second to watch the guy who'd joined him here, trying to still his breathing in the dark.