Quentin was surprised to see his daughter walking into the precinct that morning. Her request to see what they had in the police archives regarding the Declan case had confused him, but he granted her request anyway. She didn't come by to see him at work very often, so Quentin took the opportunity when it presented itself.
"Well, I wasn't the lead on this, but from what I recall we had fingerprints, we had blood, we got motive. Everything."
Laurel furrowed her brows in thought.
"Brodeur seems like the type of guy with resources needed to frame someone."
Quentin turned to look his daughter in the eye.
"Laurel, in 24 hours Peter Declan is lying down with a needle in his arm and he's not getting back up. If I thought for a second we didn't have the right guy, do you think there's anything else I'd be doing right now except trying to get at what really happened?" he inquired.
"Declan said his wife went to her supervisor with allegations that Brodeur was dumping toxic waste." Laurel pointed out.
"Yeah, but that supervisor, he said that never happened. Let me see, what was his name?" Quentin replied, flipping through the file in search of the name.
"Here you go. Istook, Matt Istook. He said he didn't even see Camille that day."
He looked back at Laurel.
"Happy now?"
"Yes." she said with a smile before moving to leave.
"You know, I thought it'd be a cold day in hell before you started defending criminals."
Laurel turned back to him briefly with a smirk.
"I'm not so sure Declan's a criminal. Like you said, he's on a clock. Can't leave any stone unturned."
With that, she walked out of the precinct. Quentin simply let out an amused sigh and shook his head. His daughter's dedication was admirable, something he was very proud of. But this time, he couldn't really say he shared her conviction. Still, he wished her the best of luck.
*
John Diggle was feeling frustrated. In great part due to his arm. Oliver and Lydia had managed to clear his body of the poison, and they clearly had enough first aid experience that the injury only needed minimal medical attention and a sling to keep his arm still for a few days, so he could play it off as a minor injury at the hospital. But it still definitely hurt like someone had jabbed a knife in his shoulder. The rest of his frustration came from Oliver Queen's apparent refusal to leave him alone, despite Diggle making it very clear that he wasn't interested in his offer.
And even more frustrating was the fact that, on some strange level, Diggle knew he was right. He did remember that, when he was a kid, people used to help each other, especially in the Glades. Now it felt like everyone was just out for themselves instead of lending a hand to others, be they friends, neighbors or just strangers in need. This city needed help, needed someone to do something. Perhaps that was why he hadn't gone to the police with the vigilantes' identities. Or maybe he just didn't feel like Oliver Queen had the right to bring a seventeen year old girl down along with him.
Diggle let out a sigh and kept walking. He found himself by the docks. And standing by the edge was a blonde girl he recognized. She looked a lot more approachable now than she did in blue leather. The difference was almost shocking. Diggle pondered whether or not to approach. He didn't want to get involved with Oliver's crusade. But he had also seen his fair share of child soldiers in Afghanistan. Kids sent to fight in someone else's place, sacrificed for a cause they didn't understand. He couldn't do anything for the kids overseas, but maybe he could prevent that from happening to Lydia if he could talk to her without Oliver around.
YOU ARE READING
Arrow: the Two Archers
Fanfiction"My name is Lydia Rooke. For five years I was stranded on an island with only one goal. Survive. Now I have returned to my city with a new mission. To save it from those who poison it with crime and corruption. But I can't do that alone. And I can't...
