Longer summary: It was supposed to be a short one shot, but since the story stared to get longer on its own account, I certainly will not interfere with it and will just let it develop.
I miss the darker tone "Arrow" used to have at the beginning, as well as a certain level of more grounded reality. That was what get me into watching this show and now it's completely gone. Not to mention that Oliver as a character is not interesting any more.
So basically what inspired me to write this fic is the complete lack of the topics which drew me to the show originally or neglecting things, which were once shown as very important to Oliver (e.g. the Yao Fei's/Shado's hood). Every time in Season 1 when the rationality of his actions was questioned by various characters, I was wondering what would happen if he was ever confronted with a psychiatrist. Then suddenly, later on this theme is not touched at all. Except for one very short scene from 3x07 Draw Back Your Bow with the psychiatrist advising Oliver that he could use "a little therapy himself" – this is another inspiration then. So yes, if you ask the doctor, who appears here, is a character present in the canon, albeit in one very short scene.
Just to clarify — for the purpose of this fic, only the events up to the end of Season 2 are treated as the canon. Some elements from Season 3 and Season 4, which made sense (not very many of them), are used, however. But overall in this universe the Arrow's story unfolded in a different way.
A million thanks to Perosha, who beta-readed this story.
A Professional Observation
Prologue
The rain was monotonously beating against the barred windows of the interrogation room. It was small almost to the point of being claustrophobic, heavily shadowed in the corners, but strongly lit in the centre from the ceiling lamps. Currently it was occupied by only one person — a handcuffed man in his early thirties, sitting by the table placed in the center. The bright light gave his costume an unnaturally vivid shade of green. His hood was pulled off his head, lying flat on his back, the mask gone altogether, probably locked up alongside his bow, quiver and other equipment in the evidence locker.
Two days ago the whole city knew him only as the Arrow or the vigilante. Today the identity of the man under the hood was no longer a secret to anyone.
He knew this room and the rest of the police precinct in Glades like the palm of his hand. He had been here countless times, on occasion even breaking into here as the Hood to obtain some piece of information, back in the time when he hadn't had his own police contact in Lance. He was once even interrogated here, arrested on the suspicion of being the vigilante shortly after he had started his crusade. Back then all was carefully planned and he was quickly exonerated. The district attorney office couldn't pursue the same charges against him again. Since then only one turn of events could have dragged him down into the gutter. He was going to find himself in a hell of a lot of trouble if he was ever captured wearing this hood and with a bow in his hand. Which did eventually happen.
He didn't see it coming. He always thought that they would get him only one way: if they managed to shoot him down. But apparently fate had something different in store for him.
His fall.
To his own surprise he felt some kind of relief, despite the fact that his secret was laid out in the open. There was no coming back from this. But at least he didn't need to pretend anymore that he was someone else. And he didn't care what they would do with him.
He never changed expression when they were talking to him. He didn't say anything. He was so stone-cold and unmoved that the detectives who tried to interrogate him were quickly driven to the brink of frustration. He might be willing to talk with only one person within the police force, but they didn't allow Captain Lance near him. Oliver caught only a few brief glimpses of him, his face always grim and difficult to read.
So eventually they decided to try a different approach.