"Why should I trust you?" Tommy asked, the gun still trained on the figure in front of him.
"Because you always have." The Arrow pulled his hood down.
"Oliver? Don't come closer. You disgust me."
"Tommy, I understand you're upset–"
"Upset? Upset? I'm beyond upset, how could you kill all those people, without remorse? Without hesitation? How could you stand here I front of me and not care that you've killed people? How could you kill all those people?"
"BECAUSE THEY TOOK EVERYTHING FROM ME! MY HOME, MY LIFE, MY IDENTITY, MY F-amily." Oliver said, his voice breaking. "You want to know how I killed all those people? Because this is WAR. And you have no idea what was that does to you. How it scrapes off pieces of your soul, until there is nothing left. How you were forged into a weapon, and how every time you close your eyes you see everyone you have lost, and everyone's lives you have stolen. How every time you look in the mirror you don't even recognize yourself. How you hate your reflection. How you lie to the people you love, every single day. Secrets have weight, the more you keep, the harder it is to push forward. So yes, I have killed, without hesitation, without giving it a second thought. But don't you dare think that there is anything past or present that I would out in front of you." Oliver's eyes conveyed deep sadness, and a look of brokenness.
"That doesn't give you the right to kill. It doesn't make you any less of a killer. That doesn't–" the bullet came out of nowhere, and went straight through Tommy's head. Ending his existence, permanently. Oliver stood there, motionless, shell shocked.
Then he broke.
He ran over to Tommy's body and he held on to him. "Tommy, open your eyes. It should've been me. It should've been me. I am a killer."