Disclaimer: If I owned Smallville, I'd be rich. And cool.

Chapter One: Savior

The evening sky was slowly making it's way from dull blue to a deep onyx, and an unusual sense of calm was settling itself over the city. Even on a weekday, Metropolis was usually buzzing with activity, more specifically crime. Oliver Queen, disguised as his heroic alter-ego, the Green Arrow, lay across the rooftop of the LutherCorp building. A radio on his hip tuned into a police frequency, where he could normally overhear news of a crime in progress. On one of those normal nights he would rush into action and swooped in just in time to save a civilian.

The airwaves were empty tonight. The only things being reported were the ones that already had dozens of cops at the scene. He wasn't Clark Kent, which didn't much bother him (the farm lifestyle was more than unappealing for a boy brought up in castles and penthouses), but he often wished he had the other man's abilities. He couldn't run so fast no one would see him, and he knew if he dove into action in front of officers they would not be hesitant to discover the vigilante's identity.

After a frustrating half-hour with no calls for help, Oliver decided to make his way to Suicide Slums. An unforgiving area, rife with poverty and gang violence, he knew this was a place where he could typically find someone to save. He had a bit of an itch for the momentary reverence of a victim saved, though he preferred not cary that into his business life for the time being.

The ghetto-like area was miles away, and although he was a fan of swinging from building to building, he was aware it wasn't exactly the speediest way to travel. He hopped over to a nearby office-tower, then strolled towards a vent, this was a usual occurrence.

Never wanting to be caught off-guard when he needed to quickly change into his more... casual attire, he had dozens of outfits stored in locations all around Metropolis. It was too much of a burden to carry a shirt and tie on his person while he was on the move. He stowed the green leather outfit in a messenger bag that his other outfit had been pulled from, and was quickly back to his usual self.

Whistling to a taxi, the young billionaire looked like anyone else on a typical trip across town. Although, the driver was a little surprised, having recognized the chief on Queen Industries, that the young man was requesting a ride to a part of town feared by even the average Joe.

He was quick to lie about a meeting at a charity in the area, and despite his confusion (as to why a meeting would take place so late at night) the cabbie drove silently for the remainder of the trip. When the bill came out to around 15$ as the ride finished up, he was wordlessly handed a fifty dollar bill as his passenger left the car.

The Green Arrow prowled the streets of the slums, his suit shining a little under the dim lamps that lined the cracked and old roads. Having already stopped two muggings in progress, he was feeling a little better about himself. Oliver was still waiting for a real life saving moment though, he wanted so badly to be not only a hero... but a superhero. At least to someone.

These days, a small explosion of media coverage left a lot of people feeling as though he was some want-to be cop. Many even saw him as a bad guy for stealing things... if only they knew WHY. Then they would understand.

As he was caught deep in though, he turned a corner into an even darker street. The area was lined with closed stores, pawn shops and smashed, broken storefronts. His feet crunched against some pebbles coming loose from the asphalt, he paused for a moment to embrace the silence that came with it.

Well, it should have been silence. He could swear he heard something else though. A voice somewhere further down the lane. He ran quickly to investigate, slowing when he got closer. He didn't want whoever it was to hear him approaching.

"Please... please... don't do this... ARGHH..." There was a voice whimpering, then a shrill yell. This was followed by a few seconds of sobbing. Oliver stood at the corner of an alley, listening with a terrified confusion to whatever was happening behind him. This wasn't the usual cries for help he responded to. Not wanting to rush into something not knowing what he was facing, he fished a mirror from his pocket. Directing it around the corner, he could see the outline of a large man holding a smaller one up against a brick wall.

The Green Arrow leaped around the corner, wanting to help the man being victimized by the other. He got a clearer view of the situation when he did so. A young man was indeed being help against a wall... but there was more. His mouth was covered by his attacker's hand... his pants were hovering around his knees... he was crying.

For a moment... Oliver just stood and watched in pure horror as he realized what was unfolding before him. Only a second later though, his more logical instincts were starting to take over. He grabbed an arrow and expertly had it through the man's shoulder in a second.

The man cried out in pain and released the young boy in his surprise. He hardly had time to tuck his member back into his pants before the leather-clad man was beating him into submission. Oliver knocked his head hard against a wall, his pure rage taking over his more humane instincts.

Sure that the man was out cold, he turned his attention to a started teenager on the ground. "Are you alright?" was all he could think of as he rushed to help the kid to his feet.

"Uh... I... um..." was all the young man could muster as he gawked at the man who had saved him. He pulled up his pants in embarrassment as he realized he was standing nude in front of someone he saw on the front page of the Daily Planet.

Oliver reached out a gloved hand to the boy. "Hold on to me alright? That guy's gonna wake up soon and I don't want him anywhere near you." his voice sounded deep and strange to the younger man, unaware he doing so intentionally.

"Hold on?" he asked in a small and confused tone, eyeing his savior quizzically.

"Arms around my shoulder. Hang on tight." Green Arrow commanded, he would save the explanations for later. The kid hesitantly took his backpack from the alley floor and did as he was told.

Using a grappling gun, the two were soon flying towards a nearby rooftop. Once they had done so a few times, Oliver paused and released the boy onto the roof of an apartment building a safe distance away.

He wasn't really sure what to do in this situation. Take the kid to the hospital? Call his parents? "Alright kid, we should probably call the police now." he took out a cellphone and began to dial.

It was slapped from his hand. "You can't call the cops!" the younger boy shouted frantically.

"Why not?"

"Listen man, they're gonna find out I don't have parents. They're gonna send me to fucking foster care ...again and everything's gonna go to shit. Just, just let me go man, I'll be fine. Thanks for saving me and all..." he turned away, looking for a way to get off the roof.

"Wait! You're homeless?! Do you freaking live out here?" Oliver couldn't believe this kid was on his own, he looked no older than sixteen.

"Yeah...I mean, I couch surf when I can. But for the past few weeks.." he spread his arms wide and faced the city "this is my palace."

Oliver gripped the shorter boy's shoulder " Do you know you just got raped in your palace?!" he shouted; confusion, anger and sadness coming out all at once.

"DON'T TOUCH ME MAN!" the kid shouted, squirming out of his grip. "Of course I know, he got a little quieter, but there is nowhere else to go."

Oliver stood silently for a moment, he didn't know what to do, what to say. He wasn't good at this kind of thing. He used to think saving people was a get in-get out situation. But there was no way he could just leave this kid out here.

"Listen.. kid, what's your name anyways?" he inquired in a slow and gentler voice.

"Bart." the boy turned to him, his eyes were wet from tears. Neither could have told you if they were left over from earlier, or if they were forming fresh right there on the rooftop as it all sank in. His nose was bleeding, his eye would be bruised and blacked in a few hours. A cut above his eyebrow looked deep and painful.

"Bart... listen. You've got to trust me, alright?"

"Um.. I guess I do. But how do you wager you'll fix this?" Bart inquired with a puzzled look.

Oliver wrapped his arms around the boy reassuringly, Bart held on tight and started to cry a little harder into the green leather. He gasped in shock for a brief moment before entirely loosening his grip.

Oliver felt a little guilty as he pulled a sedative-laced arrow from his back. He lay the boy down on the rooftop and pulled out his phone once more.

"Listen Clark... yes, I know what time it is, seriously though- I need a favor... yeah, well if I knew someone else who could run at the speed of light then maybe I wouldn't need your help... see you in a second. Thanks."

He put the phone away and laid down next to his sleeping companion, looking up at the stars and hoping he could help this kid... and maybe even be more of a hero than he ever thought possible.