Working With Red

Unexpectedly Expected

"Actually, Oliver, I have a question for you, if you don't mind," you said, reaching up to reposition your ponytail. Oliver nodded, giving her an expectant look. "It's about something that's been on my mind for a while, and I was just wondering. . . Do you know if there are any connections--" 

"This is about the Council of Wings and your mother," Oliver finished, earning a sheepish nod in return. Oliver took full notice of your crestfallen expression. "Sorry kiddo, but I'm under strict orders; League confidentiality." Though you had already been expecting this after your argument with Batman just a few days ago, you couldn't help but let out a frustrated groan, running both hands down your face. 

"Come on, Ollie!" you whined. "I need to know! I read the files I found on the computer at IFLI! I know Jackson and Silus went to Gotham, and I know they've been making trips to Arkham! There's got to be some connection between the Council and my mother! Your resistance the question just proves it!" 

"I can't tell you," Oliver replied firmly, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm sorry, (Y/N), but it's none of my business." 

"It is, too, your business," you muttered, frowning. "I'm her kid, you're my guardian; there's no doubt in my mind that you know things about my mother that the League isn't telling me." 

"You wouldn't be wrong," Oliver confirmed. "That doesn't mean I'm obligated to tell you." 

"Oh, come on!" you exclaimed, fists clenching at your sides. "This is ridiculous! Why can't you just tell me? It's not like the League is ever going to know!" 

"You don't think they'll find out if I tell you?" Oliver replied, shaking his head. "(Y/N), I'm sorry, but this conversation is over." 

"No!" you snapped, a sudden wave of anger washing over you as you stalked up to Oliver, eyes narrowing dangerously at the blonde. "Tell me, Ollie; what is the League keeping from me? What kind of dirt does the League have on Pamela Isley and the Council? Is she really planning an escape? Are they helping her?" 

"(Y/N), for your sake, back off," Oliver hissed, his expression hardening as he sized up the girl in front of him. It wasn't like he could ever tell you, but he was getting apprehensive, having you so close. The color of your irises was fading in and out of their newfound, unnatural peridot-green hue, and while it was definitely a first for the blonde, he began noticing a change in the color of your skin, too. Every few inches or so, a thin patch of your skin would fade from it's normal (S/T) color into a sickly pale green, something he tried not to show any reaction to. 

"(Y/N), listen to me--" 

"No, you listen," you interrupted, the anger bubbling in her body seeping into her voice. "I am tired of everyone treating me differently because of my mother, and I am so sick and tired of following the League's every command without getting anything in return but broken explanations and promises." Oliver's mouth fell open as your eyes held their bright green hue, your face paling and becoming swallowed by the sickly green that was now slowly creeping up your neck in streaks. "All I'm asking is for a little compensation; I just want a simple answer to a simple question!" 

"You know I can't do that," Oliver muttered, his voice wavering the slightest bit. He had to keep his face from contorting as he noticed the anger in your eyes turn to desperation; it was a look he'd seen on multiple occasions, and the same look Poison Ivy had on her face the day you lost her father--helplessness. 

"You have to give me something; anything! Even one piece of information," you snapped, your hand shooting out and grabbing the collar of Oliver's shirt, "because, if you don't, then I. . ." You suddenly trailed off, eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment before opening again. In a matter of seconds, some kind of tremendous weight had been lifted off your shoulders, but where it had come from in the first place, you didn't know. Your eyes suddenly widened when you eventually caught sight of your arm, which was outstretched toward Oliver in front of you. You nearly screamed at the green streaks now staining your skin. 

"W-What's happening to me?" you whispered, raising your other hand. Sure enough, the same pale green hue was now creeping up your forearm toward your hand. Slowly you turned your head to look in the mirror beside you, and this time, you did scream. 

The figure staring back at you was barely recognizable as your own. The sickly green hue taking over your bare skin in obscure patches, the fiery peridot-green eyes, the unnatural tensing of every muscle in your body as you fisted a handful of a frightened Oliver Queen's shirt. 

It wasn't you in the mirror--it was a monster. 

"(Y/N), it's okay." 

You let out a gasp as you whirled around to face Roy, who was now standing in the doorway of the training room, though as soon as you opened your mouth to speak, your eyes narrowed when you noticed Roy was pointing a gun in your direction; the Pantera. 

"R-Roy?" you stuttered, letting out a light moan as the image of the redhead in front of you began to distort. Your vision slipped in and out of focus as your gaze slowly trailed down the length of your body before stopping at the waist. You couldn't help scoffing at the sight of the tranquilizer sticking out of your thigh. 

"(Y/N), I'm sorry," Roy whispered, lowering the gun back to his side, and you lazily glanced back up at Roy, a mixed look of fatigue and disbelief twisting your previous frown. 

"D-Did you seriously. . . shoot me. . . with my own gun?" you slurred, eyes falling shut. However, as you struggled to take a step forward, your hand slipped away from Oliver's shirt, and you collapsed to the ground, face contorting the slightest bit before you finally fell still. 

Both Oliver and Roy remained silent for a moment as the color of your skin slowly faded back to normal, and Roy dropped the Pantera at his feet, sprinting over and throwing himself onto his knees at your side. 

"What the hell happened?" he snapped, but before he could reach for you, Oliver placed a hand on his chest to keep him from moving any closer. Roy shot a scowl at the blonde, who was still more confused than anything. "What happened?!" 

"It's worse than what we thought," Oliver whispered, a look of utter disbelief spreading across his face as he gazed down at your unconscious form. "Roy, it's happening quicker than we anticipated--" 

"No," Roy breathed. It almost pained Oliver to see the horror in Roy's eyes as he looked back down at you, disregarding Oliver's warning and pulling you into his chest. 

Everything he and Dinah had hypothesized this just a couple of weeks ago, everything he and Roy had discussed, everything he wished he would never have to tell Batman; everything he'd hoped was all in his head. He never would have imagined that the growth of your body would happen this rapidly, nor did he expect it to affect you this badly. He always figured you would be stuck with the newly-discovered accelerated healing abilities, and maybe the advanced durability--not that he would openly admit it, but he'd always thought the "changing eye color" thing was pretty cool. 

But, he wasn't ready for you to make this kind of transformation. 

He wasn't ready for you to become like Ivy. 

He wasn't ready to lose you. 

"Ollie, what are we going to do?" Roy muttered barely above a whisper. "S-She's--" 

"Her metagenes are being activated," Oliver muttered, his jaw clenching as he eyed the wheezing girl in the redhead's arms. "There's nothing we can do now, except try to slow down the growth." 

"But, how?!" Roy exclaimed, shaking his head. "If her metagenes have been activated--" 

"They weren't just activated, Roy," Oliver stated. "She's had to have been this way for a while, now. For all we know, her metagenes were activated before she even moved to Star City." 

"So, if her metagenes had already been activated months ago," Roy racked his brain, "then why is the growth continuing so fast? What could have triggered this? The last time this happened was when she fell of the bridge; what's triggering this this kind of reaction?" 

"I don't know," Oliver snapped, a scowl etched deep into his face, "but I'm going to suggest something I would never consider if this were under different circumstances." Roy looked to the blonde, whose unwavering gaze was practically boring a hole into you. 

"What are we going to do?" Oliver licked his lips before letting out a sigh, giving a curt nod in affirmation. 

"We keep this on the down-low, and don't inform the League until we find out what happened."