Hello everyone. It's been a while since my last fanfiction, but I've decided to write an actual story this time, rather than a oneshot. So, obviously, this is a crossover between Young Justice and Arrow, though it will be set in Arrow. I don't know how much the team will come into play yet, but Artemis is definitely going to be a major character of the story, as will Oliver of course. If you can't tell, it's putting Artemis into Arrow, primarily. I've been thinking of this idea for a while (Hell, I even started an rp blog as Artemis set in the Arrow verse because my mind was racing too much to contain), but not everything is strictly though through yet so things will be developed as we go along.

Also note, I started this right at the end of Season 1. I will eventually catch up to Season 2, but not for a few chapters at least.

I hope you enjoy it!

I do not own Arrow or Young Justice.

It had been a week since half of the Glades was destroyed. A week since Malcolm Merlyn was killed after the Hood discovered and attempted to stop his plans. A week since countless had died because of him, including his own son.

They say time heals all wounds, but no amount of time seemed to help besides the recovery efforts taking place. Cranes, bulldozers, any construction worker that could be found were called from all over the city to help.

None of that truly mattered to Oliver Queen, though. For months, he had been trying to help the city by finding the corrupt and showing them how they had failed his city. And now, he was the one who failed. He failed the city, he failed his friends, and he failed himself.

Oliver Queen, better known as the Hood, was the son of a billionaire and had few cares in the world. He had a girlfriend, a best friend, and he went to clubs almost every night. That was until five years ago. While on their yacht, Robert and Oliver Queen (along with the rest of their crew) were caught in a terrible storm. When the boat went down, Oliver, Robert and a crewman were the only ones to come out alive. And then Robert had killed the crewman and himself in order to let Oliver live. That was the single thought getting him through his ordeal on the island. He would make his father's faults right, and he would show the other unethical businessmen how they had failed.

"I'm worried about him," Felicity said quietly to Diggle as they watched Oliver train himself. Diggle nodded, his mouth a thin line of worry for his friend. In the past week, Oliver had barely slept. He had been in three modes: Playboy billionaire, the Hood, and training. Anything else hardly mattered to him now.

"He's grieving," Diggle said. "But he doesn't know how." Diggle had seen similar situations back when he was on duty. Soldiers who lost their closest friends in combat that didn't know what to do now.

"I can hear every word you're saying," Oliver grunted as he continued to beat the punching bag. Felicity flinched, feeling slightly guilty.

"But you're not listening, are you?" Diggle countered, crossing his arms. "This isn't healthy, Oliver. You're going to wear yourself down and get yourself killed. Is that what you want for Thea after she just lost her mother? Don't make her lose her brother too." Oliver gave the punching bag one last powerful hit and began to unwrap his hands.

"Felicity," he said, walking to where she was stationed. "Got any leads on the Triad?" Diggle sighed, and Felicity could tell that he was the type to face palm, he would've. Instead, he pinched his nose right between his eyes.

"Um…" Felicity began, turning back to her work to compile her notes. "From what I can tell, they're very angry that you're still alive. I think they were hoping Malcolm would kill you, but that didn't happen. They've hired a new mercenary. Name's Crusher Crock, codename is Sportsmaster, which is kinda lame if you ask me. Apparently he's been climbing his way up the Triad's ladder for a while. You're his final test before he makes it in the big leagues."

"How did you get all that from there?" Diggle asked. Felicity stared at him blankly, and he nodded. "Right. Tech genius."

"How good is Crock?" Oliver asked, ignoring Diggle and Felicity's side conversation.

"Pretty good," Felicity said. "He's not a sniper like Deadshot was. More of a hand-to-hand kind of guy. But other than that, there's not much on him. No idea about his past, family, or anything. The Triad doesn't care about that stuff, I guess, and it's not recorded anywhere else. I can filter for other aliases of his though. "

"Do it," Oliver said, turning to leave.

"Oliver," Felicity said. He stopped and turned to face her. "Maybe you should listen to Diggle. He's got a point. If you keep overworking yourself-"

"I'm fine. Really, Felicity," Oliver said, giving her a reassuring smile before leaving. Felicity watched him leave and then turned to Diggle.

"He's not fine, is he?" she asked. Diggle shook his head, and she sighed before going back to her work.

Oliver shut the door quietly as he entered his house. After his mother had been arrested, Walter had moved back into the Queen household, claiming that the divorce papers had yet to be signed so he was still Thea and Oliver's legal guardian. Oliver was actually extremely grateful for Walter's presence in the house. Thea had begun to spend so much time with her boyfriend and Oliver at 'the club' that without Walter, the house would be empty. Plus he noticed how Thea felt and was always there for her in the way that Oliver couldn't be, especially after his time on Lian Yu.

He knew that he should take Diggle and Felicity's advice and get some rest. But he couldn't. Mentally, physically, emotionally – whatever level it was on, Oliver was unable to relax. He kept thinking that if he had only trained harder, he would have been able to stop Merlyn sooner and save Tommy. Hell, he might have even figured out beforehand that Merlyn had a two detonators instead of one.

So now he was dedicating himself to his work. He wasn't only focused on the Hood – billionaire playboys had to keep up appearances, no matter what may have been occurring around them. Running the club had taken a good amount of his time and given him a good excuse to not be in the spotlight as much as he normally was. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he could feel the things he did drain him every day.

"Ollie," a voice said. He looked up to see Thea, still in pajamas, leaning against the balcony with her arms crossed. "Where've you been?"

"Speedy," he said, greeting her with her nickname. But hey, she started it. "I thought you were at Roy's. I was at the club, finishing my business." His lies were smooth, with no reason to doubt his words. In reality, he wasn't lying at all; more like omitting things.

"It's eight in the morning, Ollie," Thea said, spitting out his nickname. "I'm not the kind of person to sleep with a guy I've known for a month. But you wouldn't know, would you?" Her insult was more lighthearted now as she got up from her leaning position. "I'm going back to bed. I'll be up later." With that, Thea turned and retreated to her room. By later, he knew she probably meant one or two in the afternoon. After all, to a teenage mind the weekends were for sleeping. Oliver sighed at the difference in their two situations: oversleeping and insomnia. He went to his own room to make himself look presentable for another day in the spotlight at the funeral of his best friend.

How was that? It was a bit of an introduction, I know. Not much action, but I promise that will come later. Again, it started off at the end of season 1.

It would be much appreciated if you reviewed and gave some constructive criticism~