Behind The Arrow ➳ Oliver Queen [COMPLETED]

Chapter 5 | Multiple Murders Same Pain

A/N: new cover by allisonsargent :)

"Oliver, I really need to leave," I argue, slowly attempting to grab a throwing knife, but ultimately failing to do so.

"Sam, you've got these amazing powers," he begins, "Let me help you control them, and teach you how to use them."

"Answer this," I come close to him, "Would you work with Satan if you had the chance?"

"What, now I'm the devil?"

"No, you're getting me wrong," I chuckle, "You're just Satan Jr., the actual Lucifer was your father. Boy, do I dislike him—."

"Watch your tone," he snaps.

"But, Oliver," I continue, "I don't hate your father as much as I hate you. I have special and renowned hatred for you and your 'pretty boy' ways. At the end, you're just the same rich kid that everyone wants to be, that throws his money to rent whole football stadiums, that goes on private jets to places just because their coffee is better than the one across the street."

"I'm not who you think I am, Sam," he corrects.

"That island has done nothing to change you, Oliver Queen," I growl at him, "You may be a wannabe superhero running around the streets trying to change this city, but the only thing that's changed is that the man that used to rob this city is dead and now his son is is here to continue where his father left off."

"Sam, you don't know what you're talking about," he warns, wrapping his hand around my arm.

"I do know what I'm talking about!," I scoff, "I know that your deadbeat dad got my father killed!"

"I'm trying to fix my father's mistakes."

"Well, you trying won't resurrect my father, will it?!," I push his chest.

"I can't do that, but I can try avoiding the death of someone else's mother or father, as the Hood," he holds my hand, "And after seeing what you can do, I would like it for you to work with me."

"You're seriously asking me to work for you?," I scoff, "The son of the man that murdered my father."

"I'm not asking you to work for me, I'm asking you to work with me," he lets go of me, stepping back.

"You're asking more than you bargained for," I grit my teeth, "Now, what have you done to me?"

"Diluted hydrogen peroxide, although completely harmless, weakens your powers for a good four days, apparently," he finds a syringe full of the liquid.

"I've been out for four days?," I exclaim.

He nods, agreeing. My heart sinks. What's happened to Nate?

"M-My brother?," I ask, voice shaky, "Where is he?"

"He's waiting at your house, presumably," Oliver pulls up a camera's live footage of our house. I sit down next to Oliver as we gaze at the computer monitor. Suddenly, I see Nate show up on the screen, talking to someone on the phone:

"What the hell do you mean that you can't find her?!," he yells, then his facial expression turns more serious, "Whatever you do, please find her." And then he puts the phone down and takes a seat on the dining table, head in his hands.

"I need to go to him," I touch the screen, tracing the silhouette of my brother, then walking towards the exit.

"I'll let you go," he mutters, "On one condition."