For a full moment Shawn said nothing. Oliver watched as his glassy, feverish eyes blinked, watched him open his mouth, then shut it.
Of all the things to lie about, why lie about being a psychic?
"Okay, okay, so..."
Let him say it.
"Are you," Oliver said, "psychic or not?"
"Well... I..." Shawn let the sentence hang. "I... you have to admit, it's not that different than-"
Oliver's hand grip tightened around his bow, feeling the edge press into his gloved hand. "No," he said, his voice low. "It's not."
It was absurd. He wore this hood to protect the ones he loved. He kept his secret even when it drove everyone he cared about away.
Shawn... he was doing this solely to protect himself. To frolic around and expect everyone to take him seriously because he was a psychic.
"But, I mean," Shawn said, throwing out his hands, "I mean, I'm still kind of saving lives. Like, I can't be a psychic detective if they don't think I'm a psychic."
Oliver gritted his teeth. "If you wanted to save lives, you'd become a detective. A regular one. This is just about having fun, isn't it?"
Shawn's shoulders slumped, looking every bit the kicked puppy, complete with a runny nose and dark smudges under his eyes.
"I told you he was going to figure it out," Gus muttered.
Of course, Gus knew. The lifelong best friend to vouch for Shawn's "psychic" visions.
Shawn's head snapped towards his friend. "I'm using it to help Gus!" he said, his voice breaking off into a cough so violent his body shook.
Gus' gaze flicked from Shawn to Oliver's bow. "Don't bring me into this."
"Listen, you two, we don't have time for this," Oliver said. "And Shawn... I get it, alright? We all keep secrets. You're right; I have no right to judge you when I'm living a double life myself."
Except one of us is doing it for a completely idiotic reason...
"So..." Shawn half raised his hand, as if asking to continue. "Does that mean... are we still working with you?"
Oliver sighed. As much as he hated to admit it at this moment, he needed them. He couldn't let his feelings cloud the fact that there was a murderer on the loose. They'd kept his secret, and they'd helped him get answers, more answers than he'd been able to find on his own. He wasn't about to let his pettiness get more people killed.
"Yes... you are," Oliver said, flexing his hand around his bow. "On two conditions. No more visions. You find something, you tell me. Second, the rest of the team deserves to know. Understand?"
"Yeah," Shawn muttered and coughed. "Sure."
o
His nose was all snotty, and his head hurt and his shoulders were stiff and he felt like crap. He felt like his insides had all turned to glop and the world was wrapped in cotton and he hadn't even done anything all day.
Oliver was out investigating something that he wouldn't tell either of them about, Felicity was at work, Diggle was taking care of his baby, Sara, and Roy was who-knew-where.
"Guuuuuus," Shawn whined, wrapping the blanket tighter around his shivering body. "I'm bored."
"Go call Lassie," was all Gus had to offer. His eyes remained fixed on the laptop screen. "I've got work to catch up on."
Shawn gave a long, loud groan, but all it did was make his throat hurt. He heaved himself up and stumbled into the next room. Diggle was standing over one of the table-computers... whatever you called them.
"Hey," Shawn said, stifling a yawn. "Thought..." He yawned. "You were..."
"I thought I'd come down here to see how things were going."
"Great, just great," Shawn muttered under his breath. "Except Oliver thinks I'm a complete... imbecile." He ended it with a word Lassie had once used to describe him.
"Not completely," Diggle said, glancing up at him with the slightest hint of a smirk on his haggard face. "He's just a little mad he didn't figure it out sooner. He'll come around."
Shawn just gave another mumbling groan, sinking down into Felicity's spinny chair. Just then his phone buzzed.
His hand flopped against his pocket. He decided it was too much work to try and pull it out, and so simply curled up in the chair, which wasn't exactly an easy feat.
Why couldn't they find this dumb person who was killing all the Hayden's disease people so he could just get some dumb cold medicine without having to endanger his life even further?
Just then a hand grabbed his shoulder.
"Uh, Shawn. You might want to see this."
Shawn opened bleary eyes to see a phone shoved under his nose. It took a minute for the letters to focus, and he nearly went cross-eyed in the process.
Hey,
You said that I should stop shutting myself out. So... this is me. Not shutting myself out. You deserve to know what happened. In person.
Meet me at River of Life Church by 7. Just you and Shawn please. No one else.
Ava.
o
River of Life Church wasn't like any church he'd seen before. It had no vaulted ceilings, no stained glass windows, no balconies. The whole building was only a bit bigger than a large convenience store.
Still, there was a certain coziness to it. Neat rows of chairs rested on the carpeted floor leading up to a small raised stage. The walls were painted a warm cream color, faint lettering spelling out bible verses and other encouraging phrases.
And, there, sitting in one of the front rows, was Ava.
Shawn took a step forward. Ava turned to face them, then bit her lip, her gaze flicking down.
Then Ava's face softened, her eyes moving back to them. "Hey... I'm... I'm glad you came." Her hand thumped against the seat next to her. "Here, sit down."
"So... what did you call us here for?" Gus asked, sitting down. Shawn gave a small sigh and sank down next to him, pinching his dripping, throbbing nose.
"Because," Ava said, "I guess you deserve to know. You deserve to know how much I royally screwed up my life. I was going to tell you earlier, but then came the whole... situation. I kept telling myself once it was over I'd tell you, but then when you got attacked, I don't know, I panicked. I thought the only way to keep you safe would be to get you out of here. Guess I underestimated how stubborn you two are." She let out a breath, her hand clenching into a fist. "Might as well start at the beginning. I came to Starling because I was sick of everything being handed to me, sick of being told what I could or couldn't do, sick of my parents, sick of the quiet, picket fence suburbs. I just wanted to get out of there.
"I packed my stuff, found a decent apartment here. The only problem was, the whole place was full of drug addicts. I panicked a bit, but it was the only place I could afford at the time.
"But... then I couldn't find a job. I was losing money, I was stressed and so... I… tried heroin. And," she said, gritting her teeth, "proceeded to lose the rest of my money."
"But... why didn't you just—" Gus started to ask.
"Yes, ask my parents for help, let them know how much I had screwed up, let them know that I couldn't handle being on my own in the big city," Ava said, her words dripping. Then she sighed. "I remember when the Arrow came. I was pretty terrified of him, what with how he was dropping bodies left and right—"
"I've killed more than enough times to be considered a serial killer."
Working with a serial killer. He'd never really thought of it that way.
"—but there was something about him that kind of... inspired me. Here was someone who… looked out for us poor, unfortunate souls when no one else did." She let out a soft snort. "Then the Undertaking happened, and I decided I just couldn't live like this anymore. So many people died… but I survived. I'd been given a chance. So, I left the Glades, and I got help. I was able to stop the drugs, even finally got a job... then I looked back.
"I met Mark. We were stupid, we were kids. We were both struggling along, trying to put our crumbling lives back together. He was funny, he was nice. I felt like he really understood me. Then..." She stopped.
"Then I got pregnant. Mark... he... he didn't even know... oh, God." Ava slumped forward, buried her face in her hands. "Oh, God," said again, her voice muffled.
"Hey," Gus said, and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a hug. "Hey."
Shawn shoved his hands in his pockets, averting his gaze. Ava… I can tell why you didn't want Mark telling everyone.
"So... are you okay now?" Shawn asked, leaning in towards her.
Ava pulled back, raising a hand to scrub at her eyes. "Yes, I'm in a better place now. I just wish I could go back on time and slap some sense into my younger self. But you know what's weird? I go out for one drink, the first drink I've had in two years, and Mark shows up. It was almost like God sent him as a reminder. He kept blabbing on and on about how he couldn't let Veronica know how he's working on a cure for Hayden's disease."
Shawn froze, the wheels in his head spinning so fast one flew off.
"Was… was he working with someone on this?" Shawn asked. His voice came out quiet, deadly calm.
"Anyway, sorry again about kicking you—Oh. Delilah, I think." She frowned at him. "What, is something wrong?"
"No."
Ava pulled her fingers through her coarse hair. "Like I said, I panicked, and I just felt so bad about getting you into this whole mess."
The Whistler. Delilah. Report findings to Delilah.
"As for the blood draw... normally, we'd call in the nurse, but since this was a last-minute thing, I'll have to do it myself."
"But, since you're so stubborn about staying on…"
"I don't suppose I'd be making any progress if it wasn't for Doctor Delilah Sarin. That woman, I don't know how she gets that work done so fast."
"You can come back you know," Ava said. She lightly shoved Shawn's shoulder and said, "Hey. Mister Spacey. I think Boots misses you."
"Dude..." Shawn muttered. And without another word he got up and sprinted out the door.
o
It didn't take long before Shawn was forced back to a walk. The sun was down, but the street lamps kept things almost as bright as day. People streamed past him, but a quick glance around showed no Gus. Probably decided to stay back with Ava for a bit.
He whipped out his phone to shoot Gus a quick text about meeting up at the Arrow Cave ASAP, but the screen was black. Dead.
Shawn gave a muttered curse and shoved it back in his pocket. Could just have Felicity send one she got working on finding Delilah.
He broke into a speed walk, stepping down into an alleyway. A car horn blared through his ears, then another. He whipped around to see a man in green streaking down the street, vaulting over cars, in hot pursuit.
And he doesn't even have diplomatic immunity, Shawn thought, taking off after Oliver, dodging around the honking cars. Sweet.
It took another minute or two before Shawn caught up. And it definitely wasn't because he was at least ten times slower than Oliver.
"Hey," Shawn gasped, rounding the corner and stepping into the dimly lit space. "Hey, Ar—"
The words died away in his throat, his mind switching from forming words to trying to process what I was seeing.
"I know you're in involved in all this," Oliver growled. He slammed the man back against the dumpster, one arm pushing against his windpipe. "So, you better start giving me some answers. Now."
"What—what a-are you talking about?" the man wheezed. The man was Mark.
"Who is the Whistler?" Oliver said. When Mark didn't answer, Oliver reached up and grabbed an arrow, stabbing it into his shoulder. Mark dropped to the ground, letting out short gasps of air, one hand curving around the wound. "Tell me."
Everything seemed to screech to a halt for a second. Then—
"Dude!" Shawn yelled. "Stop!"
The Arrow whipped around, drew an arrow, and placed it on the bow, all in one fluid motion.
Mark scrambled to his feet and sprinted into the shadows, leaving a small trail of red drips behind him.
"What were you doing?" Shawn said, as Oliver lowered his bow, letting his hand slide forward.
"Interrogation. Don't tell me you've never seen it before." He turned and began walking the way Mark had left, letting out a soft growl.
"Well, yeah, but... this isn't... dude, this is torture!"
Oliver paused for a second, letting out a short bark of laughter. "Must have left my pot of tea back at home. It works so well in getting information from people like him."
"Yeah, that's totally what I said," Shawn said, his throat flaring with pain.
"Says the man who's spent five years playing at being a psychic. By all means, go do that in your city, in your sunny Santa Barbara." Oliver stopped, turned to face Shawn. "This is my city. My rules."
"C'mon-"
"People are dying. We need answers, and we need them now."
"Fine. Delilah. Delilah Sarin is the one who did it. Is that enough answer for you?"
Oliver looked at him for a second, then shook his head and kept walking. "We can't know that for sure."
Shawn sprinted after him, hot anger boiling up in his center. "Why is it that you don't take anything I say seriously? From the second I met you, you've been disregarding everything I say."
"Maybe it's because you don't take anything seriously," Oliver said.
"Well, maybe it's because I didn't want to end up like you."
o
Great job, Shawn. Great job screwing it all up again. Just as we were finally getting somewhere.
Shawn stumbled over nothing. His palm slapped into a building, and then he was bending over, heaving out everything in his stomach and then some.
"Go home, you're drunk!" someone shouted, a shout that was followed by several voices lifted in high-pitched laughter.
Jeez. I think this city's getting to me, Shawn though, placing one hand on his stomach and cautiously straightening. The ground tipped and rolled underneath his feet. If he'd just listen to... d...da...
They'd ended the conversation with glares, then Oliver had turned and stalked away into the darkness, leaving Shawn alone in the alleyway.
Shawn took off at a stumbling walk, fingers scraping against the brick wall. Sleep. He needed sleep. No. No he needed to find Delilah. Where would she be... Shawn stopped, slapped his forehead. Wait... Cin...she said they were meeting at the back of the hospital, didn't she?
"Hey," Shawn rasped, waving his hand at the first friendly face he saw. "'Scuse me, do you know the directions to Starling General?"
The woman gave him a quick once over, taking in his bruised face, snotty nose and mussed hair. "Yes, I think so." She rattled them off, then said, "Are you really going to walk? At this hour?"
"I'll be fine," Shawn said, waving her off.
Probably...
It was a chance, a one in 269 chance that it'd work, that she'd be there, but he had to try. He had to do this on his own. He had to do it the Santa Barbara Shawn way.
o
He smelled her before he saw her. Even with his nose all stuffed up, the smell of jasmine hit him full in the face. The same jasmine Gus had smelled around where the dog was murdered. Where Sam was kidnapped.
Lights from the back of the hospital reflected off her jet-black hair, spilling over her long white coat. Her shoe tapped against the gray concrete. Her back was to him, but somehow, he got the feeling she knew exactly who was behind her.
I should get back to the others now. He probably shouldn't have come here in the first place. Probably should have let Gus know where he was going. Or anyone.
Maybe he should get out of here before she saw him…
Delilah turned, raising an eyebrow at him. "Funny seeing you here again, Mr. Spencer."
So much for that plan.
"It was you," Shawn said, his hand curling around his dead phone. "You all along."
"Whatever are you talking about?" Delilah said.
Shawn cleared his throat, trying to push away the fuzziness slowly clouding his mind. This… this was the part where he explained everything… right? "You wanted to find a cure for this disease, and you wanted to find it before anyone else did. You especially wanted to find it out before Veronica did."
"You started out by testing it on animals. Some of which you found on the streets, some of which you stole from people, like your dear friend Abner. You kept them in an old burned out office building, and—"
"It was a nice place. Such an interesting history behind it, though it included such a waste of life. Shame we had to leave."
Shawn blinked. "Wait... are you confessing?"
"Not yet." Delilah lifted a hand, studying her nails through half-lidded eyes. "Please, continue."
"You... you left clues for Mark on the computer in the hospital, and he left them for you. He became friends with Veronica so no one would question why he was there.
"But then you found a bomb. You couldn't call the authorities, you didn't want to try and disarm it yourself, so you left. The animals escaped their cages and died, one by one." Shawn punctuated the words with a stab of his pointer finger. "But then you realized you'd made a mistake. Scout. What if he went back home to Abner? What if Abner had him tested? So, you sent your man in black, and you killed that dog."
"Whiny little thing," Delilah said. "Can't say I miss him."
"Then, you decided to take it up a notch. Why not start testing out your cure on humans? First, you kidnapped Sam, making sure to give Mark a rock-solid alibi, and you messed with the two patient's paperwork, and had them kidnapped, too."
"I'm impressed," Delilah said, her tone flat. "You see, Shawn, when I was in college, when everyone was off partying, oh, I was the one sitting in my dorm or the library, surrounded by medical books and piles of homework. I was preparing myself to make the world a better place, to make my life matter. Don't you understand? I'm taking these lives, the lives of men who are going to die anyway, the life of a drug addict, and I'm making them matter."
"I'm sure they're going to thank you heartily from the other side." He stuck his hands in his pockets, blew out a breath. Right about now, in Santa Barbara, Lassie and Jules would be rounding the corner, guns raised, "Get down" bursting off their lips.
"So... it was you who figured out I had Hayden's disease," he said, trying to take a glance around without taking his gaze off Delilah.
"A simple enough blood test. And yes, in case you were wondering, it was me that hacked your phone," she gave him the smallest of smirks. "You did give me your number, after all. Though of course, I wasn't very good at it. Nearly set it off when I first hacked in. But then we were able to use it to our advantage…"
"You know… you're really clever. Good job, Delilah. Ten outta ten." He took a step backwards. Now if he could just convince someone... anyone...
Delilah's gaze snapped up, her mouth pulling into a wide smile. "Mr Spencer, do you know why I've been talking so long? It's simple: I've been stalling."
Something slammed into his ribs, and his legs gave out. He opened his eyes just long enough to see a boot coming towards his face.
When he opened his eyes again, something wet was streaming down his face. Something that wasn't tears. Everything was black, completely black. Then an arm wrapped around his neck.
Blood choke… oh… crap…
"You forgot about one more member of the team, Mr Spencer. But don't worry. I'm sure he'll be very eager to meet you when you wake up."
That was when everything around him melted into nothingness.