When the days are cold
And the cards all fold
And the saints we see
Are all made of gold…
Five years can change a lot about a person. They can change your whole foundation, your whole core, everything you believe in. They can warp your values and your mind until you don't even recognize yourself anymore. Until everyone else in comparison seems perfect, too good to be true. Until you're left alone in the dark to face your demons by yourself, no one to hold onto because they're all off being the good guys and saving people while you're stuck in some horrible in-between place. All you want to do is go back, but you know that you can't. You know that nothing will ever be the same again. So yeah, five years can change a person more than you realize.
When our dreams all fail
And the ones we hail
Are the worst of all
And the blood's run stale…
They say to never meet your heroes. What if you've known yours all your life? What if you've had someone up on a pedestal ever since you knew what it was to look up to a person and by the time you realize that that stupid thing is shaking, it's too late? They're falling, right in front of your eyes, and you can't see what you ever saw in them in the first place because they're not the good guy, because they lied to you, because they fell. Because the one person you always thought you could count on to be honest turned out to be just like the rest of them. Yeah right, "never meet your heroes"—don't get any to begin with. Then you'll never be disappointed.
I wanna hide the truth,
I wanna shelter you.
But with the beast inside,
There's nowhere we can hide.
Everything is a kaleidoscope of chaos. The drug opens up your eyes, makes you so aware that you can feel the life flowing through your veins every second of every minute of every day. And it's a high that you can't get off of, but that you know you're on. And those newly opened eyes? They catch everything. Every smile, every hurt, every flash, every…everything. And there's nothing you can do but at the same time you almost don't want to do anything but it's too much and there's not enough room and you just can't anymore. You can't tell what's right and wrong; who's good and who's bad; what's invaluable, and what's replaceable. You turn into a monster because you just can't quiet your mind and there's a part of you that doesn't want to but then there's a bigger part that knows you need to and you just can't. You just can't see anything anymore through that damn chaotic kaleidoscope that's become your life.
No matter what we breed,
We still are made of greed.
This is my kingdom come,
This is my kingdom come…
Your children are your life. When you have a child, nothing else matters except keeping them safe. Or at least, nothing should. But then there are things that worm their way through the holes in the walls you put up to protect your children, and then you find yourself lying to them, hiding from them, all in the name of love. And you think it's the right thing to do—you feel it's the right thing to do, until they find out. Until they look at you as if they would rather eat dirt than be in the same room as you. Then you start to question yourself in the depths of your mind—though you never let anyone else realize that. And everything just blurs together and it's so exhausting trying to keep all the lies straight and on top of it all you realize that no matter what you've done, what you've sacrificed, your children end up in trouble anyways. They find themselves in danger every day and in a way, it's actually your fault. But you know that you have to keep going. You know that you have to keep trying to hold them close, to do whatever it takes to protect them in whatever way that you can. And when that moment comes, you make the hard choice. You give up everything in the world for them. Because they are your children, and your children are your life, and nothing else matters but your love for them.
When you feel my heat,
Look into my eyes,
It's where my demons hide,
It's where my demons hide.
Don't get too close,
It's dark inside,
It's where my demons hide,
It's where my demons hide.
When the curtain's call
Is the last of all,
When the lights fade out,
All the sinners crawl…
When you're a kid, your biggest dream is to be a superhero. Of course, when you're a kid, all you think of are capes in bright colors and super speed or super strength that'll help you take down the bad guys. You don't realize that there are other kinds of superheroes in the world. Until, of course, you do. The cops on the corner busting a bank heist and chasing after the perps. The firemen racing towards the burning buildings with nothing but hoses and plastic masks. The doctors and nurses in the emergency rooms of hospitals, tending to as many people as they can. Superheroes come in all shapes and sizes, and when you grow up, something in you forgets about those other heroes, the ones in the comic books, until one day you can't. Until one day you find yourself facing a man who goes against everything you believe in now, but sums up everything you ever believed in then. You find yourself questioning the line between good and bad, black and white…blue and green. And you realize—you might have gotten as close as you could to being that superhero you loved as a kid, but the person standing in front of you who stays in the dark and shies from the light? He's your biggest dream come true.
So they dug your grave
And the masquerade
Will come calling out
At the mess you've made…
Life is sharp edges. It's dark and sad and you're unhappy but then you take a swallow and suddenly it's not. Suddenly it's bright colors and slightly blurry and things have a nice, well-rounded curve to them. But it's not real. It's a figment of your imagination, spurred on by the easy way out. And when you come down from the high, and breathe freely again, it just hurts. Everything, everything hurts. Those sharp edges just sharpen even more and everything you've ever worked for is tearing at the seams and you don't have anything left anymore to hold onto because there's just…nothing. And you're falling, trying desperately to find those blurry curves again, even though you know they're gone forever.
Don't wanna let you down,
But I am hell-bound,
Though this is all for you,
Don't wanna hide the truth.
Everyone believes in something. Whether it's your job, or your family, or your dreams, you still believe. You have to. There's no way you can keep going without believing in something. Even if that something…isn't necessarily the best something in the world. Even if that something forces you to make difficult choices that call that pesky gray area home. Because you have to be able to live for something or someone or a lot of somethings. Because to live, you have to believe in something, even if it drags you down in the worst way.
No matter what we breed,
We still are made of greed.
This is my kingdom come,
This is my kingdom come…
There is no worse pain than losing your love. Than holding her dead body in your arms and cradling her lifeless face in your hands. So you have to do something, because nobody else will understand your pain and if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Because only you will be able to know how far is too far, how much is too much…when long enough truly becomes "long enough". So have to make sure that they know. You have to make them know your pain—absolutely, honestly, and irrevocably. You have to make them lose their love, and then perhaps they will understand. After all, better to ask forgiveness than permission, no?
When you feel my heat,
Look into my eyes,
It's where my demons hide,
It's where my demons hide.
Don't get too close,
It's dark inside,
It's where my demons hide,
It's where my demons hide.
They say it's what you make,
I say it's up to fate,
It's woven in my soul,
I need to let you go.
My entire life has been orchestrated for me. Between my mother and my father, and later my mother and Merlyn, and lately my mother and even more lately, Slade. I hated the island, it…it was too horrible to ever tell anyone about. It was less Purgatory and more Hell and sometimes I wake up in the mornings in my bed and marvel at the fact that I'm alive. Because it changed me. Of course it changed me. You don't go through something like that and come out of it the same person you were at the start. I suppose though…that I wish sometimes it hadn't changed me so much. Obviously there were parts of the old me that needed a swift kick in the ass, but there were other parts—my…naivety, I guess you could call it, about the way the world truly worked; but even now, I can't call it naivety or innocence because it wasn't, it was ignorance—that I sometimes mourn the loss of. Because, because it was easier. And I know that's a cop-out and I know that I hate the guy I used to be, but…being this guy isn't all that much better most times.
And it's not even the whole vigilante-side-job-thing (as she so eloquently put it once) that I'm talking about. The old Oliver, Ollie, he wouldn't have hesitated. He would've gone in and charmed her off her feet and damn the consequences but he would've done it and he wouldn't have given her a second thought afterwards because, well, let's face it, he was an ass who was used to having everything handed to him on a silver platter. But this Oliver…just, Oliver, isn't that much better. I can't want anything more with her—I can't let myself want anything more with her because it wouldn't be fair to her. She deserves better than some messed-up billionaire who goes around putting arrows into bad guys and who can barely even protect his family whom he loves with his whole heart, much less someone he could love with his whole soul. She deserves someone who won't put her life at risk every goddamn day. She deserves more than me but I'm still that selfish boy who doesn't want to give her up because somehow, some way, she brought him back. And she still brings me back. Every day that I walk into a room and I see her at her desk or her monitors and she smiles at me and she reaches out to me and she cares for me and she lets me be her best friend…every day she pulls me back farther from the brink. So maybe I need to give her up, maybe I need to let her go chase after some other life, but I can't. She's so intertwined into my life, that I'm afraid if she left, I'd just…stop. So I won't make her. Others may have manipulated and twisted, but she hasn't. So I won't to her. It wouldn't be right. Keeping her may not be right either, but I need to. I need her.
Your eyes, they shine so bright,
I wanna save that light.
I can't escape this now,
Unless you show me how.
He gets this look sometimes, when he's thinking about something, or staring out the window, or just sitting on the mats after working out with Digg or leaning against my desk, that just…it's peaceful. It's calming, and it's different. But then something happens and it's gone, quick as a flash, and I spend more time wishing I could snatch it back and keep it there than I do on fully focusing on whatever task is at hand. Because I don't want him to look sad, I don't want that infuriating blankness he wears as effectively as a knight's shield coming over his face. Because he deserves more. He deserves a happy story for once, and I wish I could give that to him. Not in that way, but in the way he needs, in the way I know would last. But I don't know how to do that. Sure, I can crack codes in seconds, but when it comes to him, he just puts up too many walls to keep me out and not enough gates to let me in. When it comes to him, I just wish even more that I was better skilled at relating to people than I am at relating to machines. I wish that I could look at him and brighten his eyes every time. I wish that I could walk into a room and just throw every peaceful, happy, light feeling I've ever had right at him (which, of course, isn't all that peaceful an image, but whatever, I'm a tech geek, not an English nerd) and then he would always have that contented look in his eyes. Because every time he looks sad, I can feel myself feeling sad for him, because it's just painful to see him like that. But until he stops looking like that (and yes, I know he'll never forever be totally, completely, one hundred percent rid of those memories and those sad thoughts but I also know that there will come a day when it's not commonplace for him to look like that), I won't stop trying. I'll stay with him, because I'm part of this now, I'm part of all of it, and it's part of me, and even if I wanted out, I wouldn't have the foggiest of how to go about getting out, which would mean he'd have to show me, which wouldn't work at all because then he'd get that look in his eyes and it would break my heart too much. Because I love him, and when he calms down long enough to relax, to soften, to smile, I know that everything I've ever done for him is worth it. And for as long as he needs me, I'll be there to bring him some sunshine to pierce through the dark.
When you feel my heat,
Look into my eyes,
It's where my demons hide,
It's where my demons hide.
Don't get too close,
It's dark inside,
It's where my demons hide,
It's where my demons hide.
Disclaimer: Lyrics belong to Demons by Imagine Dragons (amazing, love it, check it out), and characters belong to CW's Arrow.
A/N: So listen, I know this is a crap-ton of reading, but I really, really, really appreciate everyone who made it through to the end. Honestly, I was just singing this under my breath one day and thinking about Arrow at the same time and then that led to paying attention to the lyrics and next thing I know, I'm thinking of how not only could the whole song be something Oliver would relate to but the individual verses could be pieces of the story (like, the big story/plot of the show) told from others' points of view and this monster of a fic is flowing.
To erase any doubts (since I purposefully left out names, hoping you'd be able to figure it out from the words), the order of perspectives: Sara, Thea, Roy, Moira, Lance, Laurel, Digg, Oliver, and Felicity. Another on purpose thing was the style. I wanted Oliver and Felicity to be absolutely different from the others (mainly 'cause I love them the best) and that of course I tried to do by using first person instead of "second". I know they probably got a little ramble-y and off point, but, well, that's because I was writing half stream of consciousness and half actual defined structure.
This probably won't be many people's favorite by far (I'm assuming mainly due to the no-dialogue and the rare (read: one) paragraph break. But I hope you still enjoyed it somewhat, and that you don't mind leaving a review.
PS-yes, the fact that the chorus has no perspective is on purpose as well, since the lyrics kind of apply in some way to all of them.
Thanks for reading,
Clara