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"Stop it, Mara," Jerome sighed. Mara bit her lip, but pretended not to have heard him and refilled his glass of wine and took her seat opposite him. "Mara," he said more firmly. She looked up to meet his eyes and gave a small sympathetic smile.
"Sorry Jerome, I just-"
"You're over-compensating for my parents deaths- murders. You made dinner, cleaned the apartment, and you don't need too," his voice was soft, and Mara's eyes drifted down towards the floor "Mara, you haven't left my side for three days," he knew that, because he hadn't been able to go out as Green Arrow, she was with him all the time.
"I don't want you to be alone right now," Mara said, her voice just with reason "Who knows what you might do, Jerome? I need to protect you,"
Jerome scoffed at that "You need to protect me? Mara please, I don't need anyone to protect me."
Mara stood with a sigh "Yes you do, Jerome. You're lost."
"I know exactly where I am."
Mara's eyes searched his, and she shook her head, rubbing her eyes "I have to go anyway, I have an article due in," she picked up her coat, and slid it on. Jerome heart ached at just the thought of her leaving
"No, Mara I'm sorry," he said, standing. He ran his hand through his perfect blond hair. "Stay,"
She turned and placed her hands on his chest, smiling up at him "I actually do have a deadline, Jerome," she smiled "The green arrows been MIA for days."
Jerome pressed his lips to hers, and watched her leave. The elevator churned, and silence rang loudly in his ears. Suddenly he missed Mara by his side. He sat down, and resumed eating the dinner she'd made.
Line Break
Tristan laughed as Mara rushed into her office. She let her bag thump onto the desk. It was 9pm, and they were the only two people in the office. "Are you pulling another one of your famous all nighters?" Tristan laughed, leaning back. Mara grinned at him, tucking a stray of hair behind her ear
"Yeah, I've been putting this one off," she leaned down to turn on her computer and Tristan zipped away at the speed of light, and was back in a flash holding a box of sugary cakes. Mara's eyes widened and she grinned again "You knew I was coming?"
Tristan shrugged "Had a hunch," he offered her one and she took it happily, sitting down in her chair. He sat opposite her, purposely taking the cake she disliked. "How's Jerome?"
"I don't know," she sighed, tucking her hair back and logging on "Maybe he needs a little space," she took a bite of her cake and immediately the wonderful taste relaxed her.
"Space or break?" Tristan asked, leaning forward. Mara rolled her eyes at him
"Space." She looked up at him "Are you staying the whole night too?" she asked, somewhat hopefully. He grinned at her
"If you want me too,"
She pursed her lips for a moment, considering it, but then the kinder part of her pushed that idea out the window "No," she shook her head "You've been working hard all day, go home and sleep. I'll be fine by myself," Tristan stood and her shoulders slumped sadly, but he just lifted his papers off the top of a cupboard
"I'm not leaving you here by yourself," he rolled his eyes at how ridiculous she was being. When suddenly his super hearing picked up trouble. He faltered for a second "Actually, sorry Mars, I just remembered something I had to do," he didn't wait for an answer, in a hurry and walked out. Before speeding away. Mara's smile turned into one of disappointment. She sighed, hugging herself, before typing away.
Line Break
Tristan was travelling so fast that no human eye could make him out. There was a police chase going on, after a motor cyclist. He chased the motorcyclist who was doing quite well, holding his own against the law. He had turned into a secluded alley, so Tristan stopped in front of him, his hand jutting out, crushing the front of the bike slightly. The motorcyclist, dressed completely in black leather lifted their black helmet, and Jerome's face appeared
"What did you do?" he cried, examining the damage "Tristan! This is my favourite bike!" his voice was angry, not surprised or startled to see Tristan.
"Well you won't be able to use it again will you? Now that the police have it on sight!" his voice was shocked but strict. Jerome winced slightly
"Alright, fine." He glared, "What do you want? I'm in a bit of a situation,"
"What are you doing?"
Jerome shrugged "It's harmless sport."
"You're lost," Tristan sighed, Jerome shook his head
"No, I'm not. Will everyone stop saying that? I'm fine." His eyes met Tristan's "I am. I mean…my parents were murdered by your boss, I can't change that now can I? That's happened." He hopped off the motorbike and kicked in the gas tank. He threw a lit match onto it, and it burst into flames.
"Jerome," Tristan sighed "You're my friend. And you need to take things slowly-"
Jerome turned to him, his handsome face hardened "I'm fine." He pushed "Get out of here super hero,"
Line Break
"What can I get you?" the bar tender asked, putting down a glass. Jerome shrugged tiredly
"Whatever's strongest," he sighed. The bar tender poured him some pure vodka
"Got some good Russian kick," he added. Jerome nodded, chugging the whole thing. It took a second, but his whole head started spinning
"Jeez, yeah." He blinked "Hit me again."
Line Break
The handsome young blond man blinked wearily, vaguely aware of someone's arm on his chest. He sat up, and was sick. He stood, trying to wipe the disgusting taste from his mouth
"Where am I?" came another voice. He turned to see a tall blond girl in a white dress stand up. They looked at each other, vaguely recognising one another. "You're….um….Jerome?" she guessed. She had wide blue eyes and long blond hair.
"Amber?" he nodded. It had been a long time since he's got so drunk till the point he couldn't remember what had happened "Do you know where we are?" they looked around, they appeared to be in the middle of a field, far too messy and over grown to belong to any sort of self respecting farmer.
"No," she pressed her hand to her head "My head hurts,"
Jerome laughed, hand out to steady her as she stumbled "Come on, models are meant to be able to hold their alcohol."
She smiled at him "So are billionaires,"
Line Break
Tristan came into the Times extra early the next day, to see Mara asleep, half slumped on her desk, her finished report printed and stapled, crisp and clean. Guilt struck at his heart, and he knew it had no place there, he had been helping people. "Mara," he whispered, nudging her shoulder gently "Wake up,"
Mara yawned, sitting up, she stretched and Tristan's eyes widened as he took in her perfect figure. He looked away, over whelmed by the weird feeling coursing through him. "Did I finish?" she asked wearily, forcing herself to stand up. Tristan smiled, ruffling her hair
"You did indeed, love the headline: GA=MIA." He sat opposite her "Mr Oke will like it,"
"Let's hope so," she looked around, taking a sip from her bottle of water "Ugh, do I have enough time to head home?"
He shook his head slowly "Sorry Mars," he looked down at his watch "Work begins in twenty minutes," Mara groaned and he couldn't help but chuckle "Maybe I could run down and get you some clothes?"
"How would you be any faster than me?" she asked. Tristan shook his head, no answer to give. "Um…w-where did you have to go last night?"
"I had to help a friend," he didn't need any super powers to see how his words hurt her. Mara flinched quite obviously, but then busied herself with papers "No, Mara I didn't mean that you-"
"Tristan," she looked up at him and smiled "I'm gonna go home and freshen up, Mr Oke will understand right?" she gathered her things hurriedly. Tristan watched her rush out the door and buried his face in his hands.
Line Break
"Nice place," Amber noted as she walked into Jerome's apartment. Jerome thanked her, clearing his throat "Can I have something to drink?"
"Help yourself," Jerome sighed, gesturing to the kitchen, Amber did so quite happily. "So uh, do you know how to get home from here?"
"Yeah, I live down on Parks Street,"
"No kidding," Jerome nodded "I have a friend who lives down there, maybe you know him…Tristan Smith?" he asked. Amber choked on her drink and his eyes widened
"Hm, yeah I know him. Used to ugh, date him."
Jerome nodded "Small world,"
Line Break
Jerome was not a confusing person. He was simple, and straight to the point. He was tough, and he was intelligent, and he was caring, and he was usually carefree. He stood at the top of the tall building, the Times Building. Looking down at the city below him. The wind threatened to pull the Green Arrow Hood down from his head. But he worried not. There was no one here to stop him. He closed his eyes behind his shades, and just listened. He didn't have Tristan's super hearing, but he didn't need it. It was all city sounds, cars and people. People in cars.
He took out an arrow and arched his bow, it hit the flag pole of a another building, he tugged at the rope to make sure it was strong, and slid down it. For a few moments, it was the greatest adrenaline rush ever, better than out running the police on a motor cycle. His hood did fall down, but he didn't care. He landed roughly on the other roof, falling onto his back, but he didn't get up, looking up at the grey sky "What am I doing?" he whispered. His hand fell onto his stomach. But he knew, he was avoiding the inevitable. He needed revenge, he couldn't contain it. He stood, and from where he was he could see Mr Oke's room in the Times. He shot his arrow and watched it pierce the glass. It didn't break though. So he shot another arrow, with rope just above the window, and slid down it. He pulled back his hood and slid across kicking the window in with his boots, he landed more gracefully in the room to see Mr Oke leaning back against the wall in fear. He seemed to relax upon seeing the Green Arrow.
"Hello," he greeted, a somewhat relaxed smile on his face that made Jerome sick "Off to save more lives?"
"I'm here on a little bit of a different visit," Jerome whispered, the voice distorter making his voice much deeper than it was. He arched his arrow aiming it right at Mr Oke, and he released.
The arrow was sailing and Mr Oke let out a terrified yell, but the arrow never reached him. Jerome frowned, then knew Tristan must have been the cause. He shot another one, and again it just disappeared before it hit him. Mr Oke looked himself up and down, wondering where his injury was.
So Jerome ran at him, picked him up by the shoulders and attempted to shove him out the window. Anger and pain coursing through him. This man had killed his parents and here he was, living a relatively happy life. How dare he? Where was the fairness in that? And it suddenly jolted Jerome, no wonder he spent his life correcting the justice system. He must have known on some level.
"Don't do this!" Mr Oke yelled, his feet swinging over the window. Jerome's arms the only thing stopping him from tumbling to his death. Jerome glared at him, a look of disgust on his face. And his grip loosened slightly. Mr Oke dropped slightly and he flailed like a fish. Screaming for help. He clutched his eyes closed and Jerome felt a hand on his shoulder
"Jerome," Tristan whispered "Are you out of your mind?"
Jerome shrugged him off, but in doing so pushed himself forward and he and Mr Oke fell out the window. Tristan watched in shock as they both fell, he jumped down after them and grabbed Jerome's arm, and just caught Mr Okes jacket. They landed on the ground softly, and Tristan propelled them back up, so they were both in the room. Jerome jumped up, removing his sun glasses and hood
"Why didn't you let him fall?!" he roared, shoving Tristan. Tristan pushed him back easily, and Jerome landed beside Mr Oke. He looked down at the shuddering man, and plunged his arrow deep into his stomach. Tristan sped over, but not fast enough, Mr Oke was dying. He turned to Jerome angrily, flinging him, and Jerome, like a rag doll, hit the wall with a thump and collapsed onto the ground.
Tristan turned back to Mr Oke, pulling out the arrow, he checked the pulse. He was dead. He tried CPR, he breathed his own breath into him, massages his heart. Tried to stop the bleeding. "You've killed him!" Tristan roared, turning to Jerome. Jerome struggled to look up from the ground, his hood and glasses gone, and Tristan could see the shocked and hurt look on his face
"What?" he whispered
"He's dead!" Tristan whispered, pulling at his hair. Jerome's wide eyes as everything started crashing around him. He'd killed a man- no. No he wasn't his parents. That thought jolted him, and sparked through him to get his brain going again
"Tristan," he whispered, he dug into his pocket and pulled out a green syringe. The drug that healed you, the one that Tristan had thought he destroyed. He threw it to him. Tristan caught it, partially shocked, partially relieved. He injected into the mans chest.
There was a silence.
When Mr Oke gave a shuddered breath. Tristan super sped him and Jerome away to a roof top, where Jerome struggled to stand. He looked at Tristan, his eyes still wide with fear. Tristan sped away.
Line Break
Mara was glad work had been cancelled for the rest of the day. She was far too tired to even think about going back in. She walked down the street, her head phones on, trying to block out the city sounds. Bastille-Pompeii was the song? She wasn't really listening, but it had good beat. She headed towards Jerome's apartment, and stood in front of it, looking up at the sky scraper. And she was hit with the shuddering realisation that it was all to good for her. She ignored the niggling feeling and walked in, smiling at the secretary and pressing the elevator button.
She arrived on his floor and saw him, sitting at his kitchen counter. Drinking…pure vodka. "Jerome," she whispered, frowning "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he whispered. Mara walked up to him and snatched the glass out of his hand. "Mara-"
"You're drowning yourself in alcohol," she looked around, and shook her head "Jerome, you're hiding something from me. This is bigger than your parents," she took his hands in hers "Why won't you tell me?"
Jerome looked at her, his blue eyes duller than usual, but then he looked down again.
"Right," Mara looked around spitefully "Then we can't be together. I want to help you and you can't even trust me-"
"It's so much bigger than you," he whispered.
Mara whipped round at that "You're right." She nodded, close to tears "Everything about you is, you're far too good for me, Jerome." She shook her head "Fate," she spat "Yeah right,"
Jerome watched her leave sadly, but didn't do anything. He brought the glass to his lips again.
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