Enemies Once More

CONTENT:
Rating: Teen
Flavor: Drama
Language: some
Violence: none
Nudity: none
Sex: none
Other: none

Author's Note:

Otherwise known as 'Final Confrontation, 2.' :X Hey! It worked for Final Fantasy! ::sigh::

Props to my video fans who recognize this line...! \m/

Enemies Once More

==#==

Now that Oliver knew the location of the outside entrance to Merlyn's hidden lair, he figured it was time to pay the man back for so many unannounced visits. The security was tight, but Oliver had a knack for electronics, as well as a few espionage skills. He didn't know how much reconnoitering he would get done, how many surveillance devices he could hide away in there, with his leg still out of commission. He'd left the cane behind, though, choosing to replace its support with Lidocaine.

He rode the express elevator to the top. When the doors opened, Merlyn was there waiting for him. He wasn't dressed for combat, but that didn't mean he wasn't wearing a vest, or ready for a fight. The green hood and Oliver's recurve bow, which Merlyn had taken from the barn last night and hadn't returned, were there on the table between them.

"You'll want these back, I expect."

Oliver just clenched his teeth.

"I'm not sure it would be wise for me to hand you back the weapon you plan to use to kill me." Merlyn paced casually around the side of the table and faced Oliver with no obstruction between them. "Are you still planning to kill me?"

"Last night," Oliver grated, "does not change anything between us."

"That's a pity. I was hoping you'd at least finally realize how alike you and I are."

"I am nothing like you."

"You are exactly like me," Merlyn snarled. "The woman you love was ripped from you, and you would fight through the armies of hell to get her back."

Oliver tensed, though there was still a few feet of space between them. He held his voice level. "I would not slaughter innocents in some misguided plot for revenge."

"Well, I saw a different story, as you tore recklessly through rush hour traffic, heedless of the lives or safety of others."

"You cannot compare a few... fender benders with the Undertaking!" Oliver stepped closer, aggressively.

Merlyn reciprocated. "You could have hurt someone, killed any number of pedestrians, but you didn't care, because you were focused on one thing - your ultimate goal. And that goal was not a mission of mercy, of offering a second chance." He glared into Oliver's eyes. "You went in there to kill anyone and everyone who had dared to hurt Laurel."

"I am not a murderer!" Oliver spit.

"And what would have happened if you'd been too late? Would killing just those men have been enough? Would it ease your anguish? Would it quench your rage?" The man edged closer, his words relentless. "What about the others involved? Wouldn't you have gone after them as well? The ones who spied on Laurel to learn her schedule, who sold the information to the Count? The people who saw what happened, but did nothing to stop it? Nothing to help?"

"No!" His denial echoed in the chamber.

"I'm not accusing you, Oliver." Merlyn's voice softened. "I'm only saying that I understand. Why can't you see what's right in front of you? I am you. We are the same."

Oliver felt these words pierce his soul, like arrows made of ice. What would he be capable of, if he ever lost Laurel? He had been mad with fear and rage. What of his nightmares? He was, inescapably, one bullet away from being Malcolm Merlyn.

No. He could not give in and believe that.

He closed the last remaining distance between them. "I would never," he said slowly, his words rising in fury, "plot the murder - in cold blood - of my best friend. Your son! No matter what he had on me, no matter what he does to hurt me or my family! Because I love him! And killing him is not even an option! Not ever."

"You think I wanted to kill Robert?" Merlyn's eyes filled with his crocodile tears. "I did love Robert, like a brother! But he left me no choice. Don't you think I tried everything else to convince him?"

"You couldn't just let it go?" Oliver challenged him. "Were your plans of destruction so much more important to you than your best friend's life?"

"What you and Moira fail to understand is that Robert didn't just want to stop the Undertaking. He wanted to go to the authorities with proof of our work, our plans. He wanted to confess to everything he'd done - everything we'd done. He wouldn't have just destroyed me and the other people in our group, he would have destroyed himself and his family. Your family. I had to stop him! There was no other way!"

Oliver knew his father wasn't the man he'd always thought he was. He was a man with flaws, with a history that was not always shining and bright. A man with crimes, guilt. But he would not, could not fall for any more of Merlyn's lies! "I would have found a way," he growled.

Merlyn turned aside, his head low. "Maybe so. You were his son. Perhaps... perhaps he'd listen to you." He walked away. "Take your things and go."

Oliver approached the table, cast a jaundiced eye over his gear. He would examine them closely in his own lair before using them. In fact, a new bow seemed to be in order. He looked up and said to Merlyn's back, "Perhaps you should consider... Your friends keep telling you the Undertaking is wrong."

"Not all of them."

"Then maybe you should consider the people closer to you. What would Tommy think of your plans? What would Rebecca really have wanted?"

He didn't stay to get into another argument. He didn't really believe his words would have any effect. Merlyn was hellbent on this path he'd spent so much effort and money on. Oliver could only hope to sow doubt, try to slow the man down while he and his team raced to find the Markov Device.

Dealing with the bloody mess of the failed corporate takeover had kept Merlyn busy until now, but if he wanted to strike while his empire was still intact, it would have to be soon.

Time was running out.