THE SAVITAR CHRONICLES
The First Book of Arrow
Chapter 1:Verse 1
Star City, 2017
Oliver stood in the elevator door to the bunker. Someone sat in the chair on the landing—Felicity's chair—and he knew he should be shocked, angry, frightened, asking who they were and what they were doing. All he could feel was numb. Almost everyone in the world he loved had been on Lian Yu when it exploded two days ago and he still didn't know if any of them survived. All he could do was wait for A.R.G.U.S. to finish canvassing the water where the island used to be and try not to think.
So he stood there, staring at a vaguely familiar head of brown hair, feeling none of the things he should have been feeling. Finally, all that came out was, "Uh. Hi."
The chair swiveled. Barry Allen looked back at him, but his face was burned, one eye beginning to film over with damage. His remaining eye carried a reflection of what Oliver should have felt.
"Barry. What—"
"Iris is dead."
Oliver stepped forward just enough to let the elevator door close and lowered his head. "God, Barry, I'm sorry."
"No, I'm sorry." Barry's face twitched, then settled. The burns must have been agony. "I heard about Lian Yu." He gestured to the multiple screens showing all four of the local stations covering the story. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help."
"You had your own problems."
The two of them were silent. Oliver was never the most talkative person in the room, but usually Barry had him covered. Now, though, with Iris gone…. God, Iris was dead. Felicity might be—no, Felicity was a survivor. All of them were survivors. He had to believe they were alive. Two days and no bodies… surely that meant something, right?
He stared at Barry. Barry stared back. Oliver remembered the young man he met four years ago, smiling and goofy even as he carried around the burden of his mother's murder. Right now there was no sign of that Barry and, with Iris gone, Oliver thought it would be a very long time, if ever, before he saw that Barry again. This thought settled in his stomach like a stone made of calcified sorrow. Of all of them, Barry was the one who should never, ever carry a weight like the one Oliver bore.
"Here," he finally said, moving over to their first aid station. "You need something for your face."
He gathered salves, medicines, and bandages, then sat in a chair across from his friend. Barry winced but turned the burned half to him so Oliver could start.
"I'll be as gentle as I can, but it'll hurt."
"I know." Resigned. Defeated. Things Barry Allen should never be.
To his credit, Barry hardly reacted as Oliver spread ointment over the burns. They weren't quite as fresh as Oliver thought at first, so treating them would do little for scarring. He could stop the infection he saw setting in, though, and keep the scars from being too rough. The salve would help, so would the antibiotics the team kept on hand. Being a team of vigilantes meant having to treat your own injuries most of the time.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" he asked.
"Do you?" Barry snapped back. Oliver felt the line of Barry's jaw tighten under his fingers.
"Not really."
More silence descended as Oliver covered the right side of Barry's face first with the salve, then with bandages. He worked slowly, to avoid having to talk. Talking was… not his strongest skill, as his family and friends—his thoughts stumbled and stuttered as he tried not to wonder how many of them were dead—were fond of pointing out. Especially about feelings.
"Okay, I'm done. We'll change those bandages out three times a day for a while. Meanwhile take these to keep infection from setting in." He handed Barry the bottle of antibiotics. "Twice a day for five days."
Barry nodded, but didn't say anything.
"I thought you were supposed to have some sort of accelerated healing factor." Oliver nodded toward the burns. "Those are at least a day old. Shouldn't you be halfway healed by now?"
Barry's free hand came up to touch the bandages. "Another's speedster's lightning is different. Disrupts the accelerated healing."
"Savitar."
One brown eye glanced at him.
"Cisco's been keeping Felicity updated. She told me." He cleared his throat. "I should have read the most recent ones with Felicity being… out of town… but I've had a lot on my plate the past two days. A lot on my mind."
William was with his maternal grandparents, at least for the moment. Oliver had some vague intentions in that area, but knew his decisions would have major consequences in his life, William's, and the work he did both as mayor and as the Green Arrow. No matter what Oliver decided, right now William was safer with Samantha's parents than in Star City.
"I should go," Barry said, standing. "I still have to find Savitar. Make him pay."
Oliver stood and put his hands on Barry's shoulders. He didn't like the hardness of the other man's voice or the hatred running beneath the surface. "Hey. Listen to me. You need to rest more than anything else right now. I get it." His hands squeezed Barry's shoulders to keep him from bolting. As though he could stop the Flash. "I understand, Barry. Trust me. I do. I also know you're in no shape to fight right now."
Barry made him wait for it, but eventually nodded. Beneath Oliver's hands, his shoulders lost their hardness, muscles released into a fluid defeat. "I… I don't think I can go back to Central City. Eventually, but not yet."
"I understand. You can stay with me. I've got plenty of space," he assured Barry before he could protest. "The mayor's manse is a big house and Thea—" Thea might be dead. Thea might be floating in the ocean in pieces. Thea might be— "Thea became an adult capable of supporting herself a while ago, and it's just been me." Since he moved out of the loft he and Felicity shared. Felicity, who might also be buried under island rubble at the bottom of the ocean.
Barry looked at him and Oliver could see in his eye the same look he knew must be in his own, the look that must have been there when Barry's mother was killed, when Oliver watched his father kill himself in a raft on the sea. The look of someone completely, utterly lost with no idea how to find solid ground. "Thank you."
Oliver found a smile, a small one, but gave it to Barry in hopes that even a small smile might be a lifeline. "Come on. Let's go home."
Chapter 1:Verse 2
Star City, 2017
Two days ago.
Computer keys clacked so fast they made no sound that could be heard by the ears of mortals. He, however, was a god, or at the very least no longer mortal. It didn't matter if he didn't know the passwords or the hacks, he had all the time in the world to do what needed to be done to break into the system.
There. Done.
Hey girl. Check this, we changed one of the headlines! Kid Flash caught Plunder, not Flash. If changing all the rest are this easy, saving Iris from Savitar will be cake.
In other news, Caitlin's got powers. They're kind of a pain, actually, and we're hoping to find some way of keeping her from going all Killer Frost on everyone. She's scared and I can't pretend not to be all the time. To be real here, she's my best friend and I don't want to lose her. I've lost too much.
Enough of the emotions. That's what's happening with Team Flash. What's the 411 on Team Arrow?
—Cisco
The intruder marked the email unread, then went through the rest. Most of them he marked unread and left in place. Toward the end, he found the most recent emails.
Girl you are not going to believe this. Savitar is evil Barry from the future. Well not Barry exactly, he's a time remnant Barry created to help him defeat Savitar and apparently Barry created a lot of them and Savitar killed them all except one because he needed that one to go on and become him. Time travel, man, ain't it spooky? We're living in a closed temporal time loop defined by Savitar's existence! I shouldn't be this excited. I'm not excited. This is actually the worst possible thing that could happen and I'm terrified but I guess I'm trying to stay positive by looking at the science.
Closed temporal time loop!
—Cisco
He deleted that one. Moved on to the next email, the last.
Felicity,
Iris is dead. Barry's not okay and neither am I. None of us are, really.
Barry's shut himself up in the time vault. I think he could use a friend or two who weren't there when it happened. If you and Oliver could come for a few days… I know it's hard, Star City needs Oliver, but Barry needs you both right now. Please consider it.
The rest of us could use you, too. Cisco misses Caitlin.
Love,
Joe.
He hesitated. Read the lines again. Looked for the love other people would see in them, but he couldn't find it. To him, the words spoke only of loss and a desire to foist that pain off on someone else. Please take this responsibility away, he read over and over. Maybe Joe had loved him, once. Maybe some of the dissolution of their relationship with his doing as well as Joe's, but not all of it. Not all of it, damn it.
Iris did more to keep them all together than any of them realized, until it was too late.
He hardened his jaw and his heart, then erased the email. Someone would be able to find it later, but it wouldn't be until much later and much too late.
Chapter 1:Verse 3
Flashback: Central City, 2021
Barry groans and rolls from his back onto his side. Everything hurts. Even his eyeballs hurt. Is that his spleen throbbing from inside his abdomen? Has to be. Why can't he see—oh that's just a brick wall in front of his face. How did he end up face-first to a wall, anyway? Barry places his hand on the wall and, gritting his teeth, begins to leverage himself to his feet.
Savitar.
The jolt of memory does more than the wall as he bolts straight up in a jerk of lightning and fear. Savitar. He remembers, they were fighting the armored speedster, planning to trap him with Dr. Brand's gizmo. He remembers running at Savitar and getting a metal hand to the face for his troubles, flying through the air and hitting the wall. So, that explains that. What it doesn't explain is why he's out here now, all alone, and no one on the team is there with him.
He stumbles backward, into the line of garbage cans between him and the street. They must have hidden where he fell, but that doesn't explain why he's alone. The team could always hone in on the suit's telemetry to find him.
They left him on purpose.
They left you on purpose.
He shakes the voice out of his head and turns toward S.T.A.R. Labs. They would never leave him on purpose; something must be wrong with the suit. Maybe the circuitry was damaged when he hit the wall. It wouldn't be the first time.
Everything still hurts as he starts running, though it's hurting less. Thank the Speed Force for accelerated healing. Who knows what his body would look like at this point without it. The few scars that have stuck around show the potential for the mess his body could be, something too similar to Oliver's for his liking. He never wanted to be that kind of hero, the kind fueled by darkness and anger. The past four years he's come closer than he wanted, but hopefully that's over.
Please God, let it have worked. Let Savitar be little more than a bad memory that sometimes comes in the middle of the night. Let it be over, so they can all get back to their lives. What lives they have.
You haven't been there for them, he thinks as he turns into the doorway to S.T.A.R. Labs towards to cortex. That changes now. You can start by getting a haircut.
The cortex is empty. He's not entirely surprised. With all of Team Flash's resources and energy going toward the capture of Savitar, the fighting of criminal metas had long since been relegated to the CCPD's Anti-Meta Crime unit, under Joe's leadership. Still, shouldn't there be some sort of celebration with Savitar gone? Unless it hadn't worked. Barry turns and looks around, frowning.
"I thought you were in the time vault."
He turns. There's Joe, looking haggard. He hasn't looked well since… since then.
"I don't—what happened? Did it work? Why did you all leave me there?"
For a moment Joe looks just as confused as he feels. Then there's a dawn of understanding and a sigh as he shakes his head and turns away. "I guess he didn't kill all of you. I'm sorry. You should go to the time vault and have a chat with yourself."
"Joe?"
Joe just waves a hand dismissively over his shoulder as he walks away. "I have to get back to Wally."
The time vault. Barry goes there not just because Joe said he should but because he's beginning to remember more about what happened and has a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. A stone of truth sitting in his gut, telling him everything he doesn't want to know, but he can't accept it until he's seen it for his own eyes.
The door is already open. Inside is a man standing in front of the pedestal and the glowing shimmer of the future news story. Barry sees the byline that no longer belongs to Iris West-Allen, feels the old wound in his heart tear open again. The other man turns. There should be a glimmer of surprise in his eyes, or anger, or something. There's not, just emptiness. The original Barry Allen looks himself up and down and turns away again.
"I thought he killed all of you."
"No," he answers. The weight of it drags him downward until he's sitting against the wall. "I was just knocked unconscious behind some garbage cans. I thought everyone left me." He laughs the laughter of a man who has realized he isn't real. "You did. All of you. You just left me."
"You're just a time remnant. You were supposed to die."
The words feel like Oliver's arrows thunking into him one by one.
You're just a time remnant.
Oliver's arrows hurt less.
You were supposed to die.
Chapter 1:Verse 4
Secret A.R.G.U.S. Facility, 2017
One day ago.
As Director Lyla Michaels marched down the corridor of the Star City A.R.G.U.S. facility, all the agents in her way took one look at her face and decided elsewhere was the place to be; all of them knew she should be out on the search for her husband's bod—her husband. None of them wanted to know why she was not and none of them wanted to trade places with the unlucky agent who had called her away from that search.
That agent was one Miranda Nguyen, who spent the two hours between her call and Director Michaels' arrival steeling herself for the confrontation. Director Michaels did not like being called away from the Lian Yu search, but she was going to like Agent Nguyen's news even less.
The door opened and slammed again behind Lyla. "If this isn't a matter of homeland security, Nguyen, I just might consider reinstating Waller's Suicide Squad."
Nguyen winced, but to her credit did not make excuses. "Our supply of strange metal was stolen this morning."
"What."
The word came out so flat it wasn't exactly a question, though Director Michaels obviously expected an answer. She stepped up to the screen where Nguyen had security footage playing on a loop. The Director watched as the box containing their supply of strange metal simply vanished. "That's not—" As she continued watching, she noticed some papers flutter on the table next to the strange metal container. So did the lab coats hanging on the wall nearby, and the hair of the lab tech standing opposite that table. A pencil rolled two centimeters.
Lyla cursed. She cursed because she knew the only thing that could do something like that and because she knew the only person capable of doing that had already attempted to steal from A.R.G.U.S. recently. That she'd then simply given him what he wanted made this betrayal all the more humiliating.
Except Barry wasn't that fast. Oh, he was fast all right, but not fast enough to enter and leave a room—let alone an entire facility—without being seen at all. He still trailed lightning behind him, which would be somewhat noticeable, and tended to leave a mess of fluttering papers.
Lyla pulled out her phone before remembering she couldn't call Oliver. Not when she was supposed to be investigating Mayor Queen's involvement in the destruction of the island on which he'd been stranded for five years. She couldn't contact him in any unofficial capacity until this was over and attention had been diverted elsewhere. She also couldn't go to Central City to investigate Barry herself; even if she wanted to, she couldn't leave the search for more than a few hours.
"Director?"
She blinked. She'd forgotten Agent Nguyen was there. "Yes, Agent?"
"Um, I'm guessing you've noticed the displacement of certain items in the room. Like from a passing breeze. Or a speedster?"
Lyla narrowed her eyes. "What do you know about speedsters?"
"Oh, I-I, um." Nguyen blushed all the way to the roots of her hair. "I've been studying the science behind them. Well, the Flash. He fascinates me—I mean, speedsters fascinate me."
Lyla considered. She couldn't go to Central City herself, but someone had to go and hopefully absolve Barry of this particular theft incident. Besides, she wanted to know how things had turned out. She hoped Iris was all right. If this was Barry's doing, Lyla just hoped it was due to some hare-brained scheme and not because of something related to Iris or Savitar.
"All right, Nguyen, I have an assignment for you. I need you to go to Central City and contact members of the Flash's team."
Nguyen gasped and held her breath until Lyla thought she would pass out.
"Calm down. I don't know the Flash's identity," she lied. She lied smoothly these days. "I just know the identities of a couple of the people who work with him." She tapped out the information on her phone and sent it to Nguyen via text. "Dr. Caitlin Snow is the first person you should try to contact." Caitlin had always been the voice of reason with the most practical head on her shoulders. "But if you can't find her, you can talk to Cisco Ramon instead. I trust you can get the information we need without revealing too much of A.R.G.U.S.' business?"
Nguyen nodded vigorously. "Yes, Director!"
Lyla nodded. "Good." Nguyen was young and untried in the field, barely out of training, but she was smart and obviously attentive. She'd noticed the signs of a speedster when few others would have.
"Director? Why do you think the Flash might have stolen the strange metal?" Nguyen really was much younger than Lyla realized at first, or perhaps it was just the naive trust in her eyes. "I mean, he's a hero. He wouldn't steal anything he didn't really need, right?"
"Let's hope so. Now go. I have to get back to the helicopter and the search ship."
Lyla left the facility feeling even more off-center than she had when she went in. Something wasn't right, something felt wrong. She couldn't pinpoint what it was, exactly, just that her military and government experience told her not to trust anyone right now.
Not even her friends.
Chapter 1:Verse 5
Star City, 2017
Oliver sighed as he hit the button on his office phone. "I'm not taking any more calls today unless they're from city council members or other government officials."
"Yes, Mayor Queen." Audrey would take care of it. He could count on her. She had come highly recommended and if she ever decided to leave his employ she would have a glowing recommendation from him as well. Very few people on the planet could get past Audrey, either by phone or in person. She took her duties seriously and worked tirelessly to ensure he was able to do his work.
A thought crossed his mind and he hit the button again. "Audrey?"
"Yes, Mayor Queen?"
"Unless it's Susan Williams. Let her through."
"Of course."
Audrey knew, of course, about the brief relationship between him and Susan Williams. So she also knew why Susan would be the only reporter allowed to speak with him at this time. If she attempted to contact him. She might not, considering how they left things, but denying interviews with all others would almost guarantee she'd have to try for an exclusive. If she did, he planned to give it to her.
Until then, the rest of them could speculate all they wanted about the meaning of Lian Yu's eruption, his involvement, or the reasons behind many of his friends and family being on the island. None of them knew all the names, but everyone basically agreed on the presence of his sister and Deputy Mayor Lance. Beyond that, they had little to go on except some intel gathered somehow to tell them the government agency handling the search and rescue was searching for more than two bodies or survivors.
They also had wind of the little boy who was present, but thank God they hadn't been able to identify or find him. Yet. Another reason he wanted Susan on the story. He could trust her to be discrete.
He thought about calling Barry at the mayor's manse to see how he was doing, but doubted he would even answer the phone. Barry hadn't been very talkative all night and while Oliver understood why it still worried him. Oliver had a darkness inside him he had embraced, but wished he could cleanse. In Barry, he had always seen an unconquerable hope no matter the shadows that came crawling and it gave him hope he could one day be different. Lighter. More like Barry.
Now, Barry seemed broken.
Can you blame him? Can you say you'll be better off if the news about Felicity is… is bad?
His cell phone vibrated. Startled, Oliver realized he'd been sitting at his desk just staring into space for at least twenty minutes. He took out the phone and his heart stopped when he saw Lyla's name across the screen. That could only mean one thing.
"Lyla?"
"We found two," she said. He could tell by her tone that A.R.G.U.S. had found bodies, not survivors. "I'm sorry, Oliver."
He closed his eyes. She waited for him to gather the courage to ask. It couldn't be John. Surely Lyla would not sound as calm as she did, not even Lyla could, if it were John. "Who?"
"Samantha Clayton."
"God." How could he explain to William that his mother would not come home ever again? "And?"
"Quentin."
He hung up without saying anything else. What was there to say when his deputy mayor and the mother of his child were dead? Now he had to explain to two children about a lost parent and it didn't help at all that one of them was an adult. Sara still dealt with the loss of Laurel. Oliver covered his mouth with one hand as he wondered how well she would be able to deal with this. "I'm so sorry, Sara," he whispered to the empty room.
Chapter 1:Verse 6
Flashback: Starling City, 2012
The man with half a face appears in a bolt of lightning, one moment not there and there the next. Simon barely reacts. He barely feels anything. Grief has left him numb.
His father is dead. Murdered.
"I understand you," says the half-faced man. "My mother was murdered when I was a child. You're older. You won't fair as well."
Simon looks away from the window and the city beyond. Starling City, where his father made his fortune and lost his life. Starling City, where evil is always rewarded and good is punished. They say the Hood is a vigilante, fighting for justice. They say he goes after the most corrupt. Was his father corrupt? It doesn't matter. Not to him, not ever. All that matters is that his father is dead.
The half-faced man tilts his head, peering into Simon's eyes. He's a young man beneath the scars and rage. Simon has to be at least a decade older than the kid standing in front of him, except there's more pain and anger in his one good eye than Simon can remember experiencing in his entire life. Until now.
"Do you want justice?"
Simon shakes his head before he knows he meant to respond at all. Justice is what they call the Hood, and if that's justice then Simon wants no part of it.
The stranger smiles. "Do you want revenge?"
At the word, a well of rage surges within Simon's chest. It wasn't there only a moment before, but now it is, hot and insistent. Does he want revenge?
Yes.
"Good. I'll help you, I'll give you everything you need to begin. First, though, I need a promise from you." The man holds up a finger.
"What promise?" His voice comes out in a rasp.
"Don't kill his loved ones one by one." He smiles and in it Simon sees a fury to match his own, dampened not at all by the cold in his eye. "Save them for a grand endgame finale. Save them for something where the bodies will take days to recover. Understood?"
Simon closes his eyes and breathes in deep the air of his new reality. A calm settles over his shoulders and head, into his mind. His heart still churns in turmoil, but his mind is clearer than it has been in days. It's as though this young man in front of him has opened a door in his brain to a world he only glimpsed before but never dared enter. Inside that door lay ideas and thoughts he had always known would seem… wrong… to others and also knew would one day seek an outlet.
"Understood."
"Good. The man you want is named Oliver Queen."
Simon's breath whistles between his teeth. Oliver Queen is not a nobody who can be disposed of easily and quietly. He's a goddamn celebrity billionaire, all the more a celebrity since his miraculous return from death.
"I see you understand the implications."
"This will take time."
The man nods. "And cunning. But I know you have it in you. I've seen it." The man moves to go, then turns back to him. "One more thing."
Simon listens, drinking in the information given him as parched soil drinks in the rain. He can almost see his future unfurl before him like a red carpet guiding him to victory. Talia al Ghul, yes, he will do as his mysterious benefactor says: He will seek her out in three years' time when she is ready and until then will study Oliver Queen and the Hood, and learn all he can about them without Talia's more intimate knowledge.
He opens his eyes. "You know him, too," he says, convinced of the truth of his own words. "You could tell me the same information."
His benefactor chuckles. "I do. I could. But that would be too easy and time doesn't like easy. Trust me." He turns to emphasize the only partially healed burns covering the right side of his face.
Then he's gone, trailing lightning, leaving behind him a changed Simon Morrison.