AN: Moving swiftly on-

DISCLAIMER: SUPPORT WARNER BROTHERS SO THEY DON'T KILL ME!

|STAR CITY
|February 24, 07:55 PDT

"I've been trained by assassins on how to infiltrate an enemy stronghold without being noticed using only a single pocket knife and a paperclip," I muttered, "but I must admit, this is intimidating."

"Don't be so melodramatic, Tommy," Dinah smiled at me, "it's only high school."

I looked out the passenger window of her SUV at the daunting building that stood before me. Aurora High was a tall square gray building just outside of downtown. It was about as basic as high schools went, the only thing that really made it stand out was the massive field behind it. In the center of the school was a small courtyard, just beyond the entrance hall. From there, a path ran down a massive field behind the school to the sports wonderland that funded the school. The path curved and twisted through an open park area before snaking between two baseball fields and to a football field with the traditional high school style of having a racetrack run around it's perimeter. There was a large parking lot that ran alongside the field and the main building. All in all, it was rather impressive, though albeit seemingly very unnecessary. I didn't see the purpose of so much space and effort going into something as trivial as studies. Just as well, apparently I was to spend seven hours at this premises five days a week. Father had had me study for two hours a day. That was all. Despite that, I still seemed to be more educated than any of the soldiers that I could get to talk to me from any of the bases which I stayed at.

"If movies have taught me anything," I said as I stared at the building, "it's that this is about to be the most difficult day of my life."

"Oh, calm down," Dinah said, humor still in her voice, "Here's your schedule." She handed me a piece of paper with meaningless words on it. All I could understand was my name at the top. I gave her an unimpressed look. "I called the principal, he should be waiting for you by the statue of a bull in the main entrance hall. His name is Michael Growing."

Once more I gave her a doubting look, "Do I really have to do this?"

She shoved the piece of paper into my chest, "Yes, you do. Now off you go, or you'll be late."

I sighed and stepped out of the car. Taking a second look at "my schedule" I determined it complete gibberish and folded it up, placing it in my back pocket.

"Tommy," Dinah called from inside the car.

I stuck my head through the open window of the passenger side. "What?"

She handed me a small black square of glass and metal about the size of my palm. "My number is already pre-programmed into it." I took the phone from her with no small amount of wonder. I had never had a phone before. Radios and com-links sure, but never a cell-phone. She held out a gray rucksack to me, "Good luck."

"Thanks," I took the bag, and stringing it over my left shoulder, muttered, "I'll probably need it."

With a sigh of grief, I marched up the concrete ramp that lead to the front doors.

Inside was rather elegant, the entrance hall was a large, open room made out to look like a sort of plaza of some form. The ceiling was raised a couple stories and there was an ornate mural panted on it of what appeared to be a park with people doing all sorts of things from picnicking, to children racing, to some men playing football as well as whatever you could imagine someone doing at a park. There were two hall ways that either direction at the end of the room, with windows along the front and back walls. By the far wall was a life size bronze statue of a bucking bull on a pedestal with doors on either side of it. I could see the courtyard outside of the doors. There were kids everywhere, though it seemed that the youngest were about my age or a little younger, there also appeared to be teenagers several years older than me. They were doing everything you could think of, finishing homework, eating breakfast, exploring each other's bodies in hidden corners until they were found by some staff member. Standing next to the statue of the bull was a tall man wearing a brown suit coat with slightly paler pants and a black turtleneck. His hair was short and black, both on his head and face. He had a short, distinguished beard that appeared to be meticulously kept. He was speaking with a girl about my age. She had long blond hair and was wearing a white t-shirt with pink flowers along the chest and skinny jeans with a red backpack. She was pretty enough, very athletic. The man was in the middle of shouting at a couple of kids who were showing way too much affection to be G rated.

"Go on to class now, before first bell sounds!" He called to them. They shuffled off, seeming very irritated.

"Michael Growing?" I asked, cutting him off.

He turned to me and smiled with enthusiasm, "You must be Thomas Crane!"

"Ah, yeah. Michael Growing?" I repeated.

"Please, call me Mike," he smiled, "or if that's too informal you can go with Principal Mike or Mr. Mike." He offered me a big smile and a hand to shake.

"Tommy," I said, shaking his hand. His hand was small and wiry.

"Well, Tommy, let me be the first to welcome you to Aurora High," his smile never faded as long as he spoke. He gestured to the girl behind him, "This is Suzanne, I asked her to show you around for the day. I'd do it myself, but as you can imagine, I'm rather busy." He looked up as if to confirm that the couple had left.

The girl walked up to me and offered her hand with a small smiled. It looked forced to me. "Hi, I'm Cissie."

"Tommy," I replied cordially. I took her hand and noticed that her grip was much firmer than the principal's.

"If you need anything, Thomas, you need only ask. My office is always open." Principal Mike told me.

"Thanks," I muttered, still feeling very off about the whole situation. With that quick introduction the principal left the two of us in front of a big bronze cow.

"So..." Cissie muttered.

"So?" I asked.

"You're schedule?" She asked, holding out her hand.

"Oh," I took the folded paper out of my back pocket and handed it to her.

She unfolded it and looked at it. Apparently it meant something to her. "It looks like your first class is chemistry with Mrs. Beam," she told me. She seemed to spot something surprising. "You're in archery club huh?" She looked up at me. "I am too. Well, I'm the captain of the archery club."

"Archery club?" I asked.

"Yeah, it says right here," she pointed to my schedule where it said, "CLB-AR Mon, Wed, Fri-Pr 5."

"You can understand this?" I asked.

"You can't read your schedule?" she asked, "What high school did you transfer from?"

"I was home schooled," I said the lie that Dinah had told me to.

"Ah, well, I'll explain it on the way to your first class," she said, leading me down a hallway. "We have second period together, so I'll walk you there too, just to make sure you don't get lost. My first period is Study hall, just around the corner from you."

As we walked, she explained to me how to read the schedule. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays I would be forced to go to archery club, no doubt Oliver's idea. The hallways were lined with lockers, interspersed every here and there with a door to some room. Most of the other students had all made their way to their classes, but there were a few who were just hanging around. A couple took a moment to stare at the new kid, but most paid me no mind. Cissie showed me to my locker and tested to see that it opened properly. Then she showed me to her locker, making note that it was just a few dozen lockers down. Afterward we walked in mostly silence.

"I like your jacket," she stated after a moment.

"Uh, thanks," I muttered.

" It looks like a real aviator's jacket, where'd you get it?" she asked.

"It is. It was given to me by... by a friend of the family," I said.

"Ah," she smiled.

I stared at Cissie, not really knowing what to say. I was never good at small talk, never needed to be. Everything I knew about interactions between teenagers I had learned from movies. I guessed that should start with some kind of compliment or something. I stared at her face for a second, she was pretty. Her eyes were brown, coupled with her hair made her look a little like a golden retriever.

"You look kind of like a dog," I mentioned.

Her smile that she had had instantly faded into a glare. "Excuse me?"

"You look like a dog. A small dog," I added.

"Are you trying to say I look like a puppy?" She asked, clearly very confused.

"Yeah, that," I muttered. "You look like a puppy."

She seemed very confused, "What do you mean?"

I just shrugged, "I dunno, you just look like a puppy."

She stopped in front of a door that had a seascape painted on it. "This is your homeroom."

"Oh, uh. OK," I muttered.

"I'll meet you here after first period," she said flatly. I couldn't tell but she seemed upset.

"Yeah, OK," I said.

With that she left me alone. I stared at the door for a few moments before finally entering.

A short, middle-aged blond woman in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that had a cat in a lab coat on it stood in front of a class of about twenty five students my age. The room was decorated with random scientific equipment and artwork. The desks were lined up in simple rows.

"May I help you?" The woman asked.

"Mrs. Beam?" I asked.

"Yes?" She asked.

"I'm Thomas Crane," I introduced myself.

"Ah, yes, I was told we were getting a new student," she smiled. She beckoned me over "Come here, introduce yourself."

Hesitantly, I stepped up in front of the class. "I'm Thomas Crane," I repeated.

"Oh, come now, there must be more to you than that!" Mrs. Beam joked. "Tell us about yourself."

I thought for a moment, I couldn't well tell them that I was trained to be an assassin. Or that I had just recently taken up the mantle of Speedy. Or that I was on a vendetta against another trained assassin.

After a moment I said, "I'm in archery club."

"Oh, trying to be the next Green Arrow, huh?" Mrs. Beam asked. I tensed up a touch at her statement. "You any good?"

"Um..." I muttered, not sure how to answer, "I've never been in any tournaments or anything."

"Well, I hope you're pretty good, can't let down Green Arrow in his own city, now can we?" she teased.

"Guess not," I shrugged. She seemed disappointed in my reaction for some reason.

"Yes, well... I'm afraid we've already chosen our lab partners, so you don't exactly have a choice at this point, but fortunately for you, we got another transfer student a few weeks ago," she explained. "Kyle?" A kid with messy black hair and green eyes looked up from scribbling something to stare at me. "Would you mind?"

"Uh, nah. Go right ahead," he said. It didn't really seem like he knew what was going on.

Turning back to me, Mrs Beam said, "Great, you'll be Kyle's lab partner for the remainder of the term. You may take your seat next to him."

"Alright," I shrugged.

I took a seat next to him at the back of the class and inspected my new lab partner. He looked like a fifties gangster with his dark hair, leather jacket, white t-shirt and jeans with black boots to top it off.

He smiled at me, seeming friendly enough, "Hey, I'm Kyle."

"Tommy," I greeted.

He held up his fist for a second and stared at me. I just stared at it. It seemed like there was something he wanted me to do, but I had no clue. After an awkward moment, he lowered his fist with a slight frown and went back to whatever he was drawing. I sighed and just tried to focus on the lesson. They were talking about ionic bonds and mapping electrons, which confused me. Not because it was hard to understand, far to the contrary, I learned how to do it when I was seven. I raised my hand, as I had seen kids do in movies.

"Yes, Thomas?" Mrs. Beam called on me.

"Excuse me, but isn't this all a bit... basic?" I asked.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean," Mrs. Beam retorted.

"Isn't this kind of, children's stuff?" I asked. All of the other students looked at me as if I had two heads.

Mrs. Beam looked very surprised, "What are you asking, Thomas?"

"Shouldn't everyone know this by now?" I asked plainly. All of the other students began to whisper among themselves.

"Quiet, quiet everyone, please," Mrs. Beam calmed everyone, "Thomas, I'm not sure what school you transferred from, but here we have just begun learning about ionic bonds, but I am happy to hear that you won't be having any trouble with the topic."

With that said she began to continue the lesson as I sighed to myself as the realization of just how much longer I needed to sit through this set in.

The entire day continued like that, every subject that I went to they were speaking about things that I had learned when I was about seven years old or younger. Cissie had walked me to each of my classes, but each time she had, she spoke to me as little as was necessary. When the time came for us to eat lunch she simply walked up to me and said, "It's lunchtime. We get fifty minutes," and then she left me. I began to realize that she seemed to be annoyed at me for something. At the end of the school day, when everyone was about to head home, she cornered me outside of my math class.

"Oh, hi," I greeted her.

"Come on," was all she said.

"'Come on' where?" I asked. "I thought it was time to go home."

"Not for us," she explained, "archery club remember?"

"Oh, right," I sighed.

She lead me around to the back of the school to where there were two open areas with walls blocking the view inside.

"These are the locker rooms," she said, "The boys is on the right." She pointed. Taking inspection of my jeans she turned up her nose a bit, "I hope you brought something more... mobile to wear."

"Uh..." I stammered. I looked through the rucksack that Dinah had given me that morning and found a pair of athletic pants and running sneakers.

"Good," Cissie said with no emotion. "There's an exit out the back, once you've changed, head to the football field. Mr. Jordan should already have everything set up. I'll meet you there."

"Cissie?" I asked before she left.

"What?" she demanded.

"Thanks," I said simply.

She hesitated for a moment. "No problem."

After finding my gym locker and changing into the pants and sneakers, I left my belongings in the locker and left for the field as she had said. The walk wasn't that long, but it seemed that I had taken too long to find my locker because I looked to be the last one there. There were about twelve other kids at the field where ten targets had been set up along the field at varying distances. The kids ranged from a couple younger kids to what looked to be two seniors. There was one adult in a green track suit standing off to the side as he watched the kids stretch out. Cissie was wearing a pair of green running shorts with a white t-shirt. She stood at the front of everyone, leading the stretches. I jogged over to them and they all stopped stretching.

"Took you long enough," Cissie huffed under her breath. I suppose I wasn't supposed to be able to hear it. "Everyone, this is Tommy. He just transferred here and wants to join us."

Everyone had varying reactions. A couple of girls who I recognized from global history seemed thrilled, while the two seniors seemed annoyed.

I heard one of them mutter, "Another wanna-be Green Arrow."

The man in the green track suit walked over to me with a smile. He had dark skin and matching hair, though his eyes were the shade of warm caramel.

"Hello Tommy, I'm Coach Jordan," he introduced himself. He held out his hand for a handshake.

I took it with a firm grip, "Hi, I'm Tommy."

"So you want to join archery club?" He asked.

I shrugged, "My mom wants me to, apparently." I couldn't help but notice Cissie shoot me a look, though I couldn't read what was behind it.

"Well Tommy, we're always open to new members," he told me, "but we have a bit of an initiation before you're allowed to join fully." He jogged over to the sidelines where there were several quivers and bows waiting. He brought back one of each. Handing them to me he asked, "You know how to put it on?"

"Yeah," I affirmed as I did.

"Good, you'll also need one of these," he produced a leather arm guard. "It'll keep the bowstring from snapping your hand too bad." He handed it to me with a smile. I put it on my left hand and he walked me over to the edge of the end zone. He pointed at the first target at the five yard line. "We need to see how good you are, before we can tell if we want you or not."

It was probably supposed to be a joke, but I just ignored it. Everyone gathered around me as I drew an arrow from the quiver. The younger ones seemed very interested in me, the older ones, not so much. Without any effort I bullseye'd the first target. The gathered audience responded with something slightly less than a golf-clap.

"Not bad," Coach Jordan smiled, "let's try something a bit harder."

He pointed to the second target at the ten yard line. Once more I easily bullseye'd it. This got a slightly more vigorous golf clap.

"Alright, how about-" he began.

Before he could finish his sentence, I shot three arrows and bullseye'd the targets at the twenty, twenty five and thirty yard lines. The peanut gallery seemed very impressed with me. I looked over at Cissie, who was giving me a look like she was simultaneously impressed and irritated.

"Alright cool guy," Coach chuckled, "let's see you hit that one." He pointed at the sixty yard line where the next target lay.

"Oh come on, Coach," one of the seniors griped, "even I can't hit the sixth target."

"Only one of us ever has," someone else pointed out.

"Then he shouldn't feel bad about missing," Coach Jordan chuckled.

Taking a deep breath, I pulled another arrow. Cissie walked over to me.

"You'll never hit it," Cissie told me.

I just raised my eyebrow at her. "Can you?"

She smirked and took out her own bow. Shooting an arrow, she hit the target just off center, though still technically a bullseye. She turned to me with a large grin on her face. I just took a breath and fired. My arrow sailed through the air and struck the target, dead center.

"Whoo! Looks like we got a new team captain!" Someone shouted.

"Shut up, Jared!" someone else shouted at him.

Cissie just stared at the target. "How-?"

"You dropped your shoulder at the last second," I told her. "Makes the arrow warp, throwing off the trajectory just enough."

She glared at me. "You don't have to be such a show off about it."

I glared back. "You want me to be a show off?"

While still glaring straight at her, I shot three more arrows, bullseyeing the first three targets again. Then I turned and fired three arrows in a high arch. They shot high into the air before all landing in the exact same spot as my first shot on the sixth target. Cissie's glare deepened. She looked like she was about to put three arrows in me. A part of me wished she'd try.

"Hey! Break it up you two," Coach Jordan demanded, "Cissie, go finish the warm ups while I talk to Tommy here."

She hissed at me once more before going back to instructing the others, with some apparent heckling from Jared. Coach Jordan lead me away from the others.

"That was some impressive shooting," he said, "but I won't tolerate any fighting in this club. Especially when we deal with such dangerous tools."

"She started-" I began to protest.

"I won't hear it," he held up his hand. "If you're going to be in this club, I need your guarantee. No fights. I'm going to talk to Cissie about it too, but I need your word."

I sighed, "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

"Good," he sighed, "Sorry about Cissie, she's pretty competitive."

"I noticed," I assured.

"She can be a bit hard headed at times, but she's really nice if you get to know her," he encouraged me.

"She doesn't know the meaning of hard headed," I snorted, "but I'll show her!"

"Watch it," Coach warned.

"I won't fight her, don't worry," I reassured him.

"That's all I ask," he smiled. "Keep it clean."

I watched the other kids practice, wishing more than anything that I could show them that that had been me holding back. Way back.

|STAR CITY
|February 24, 17:12 PDT

Oliver, Dinah and I sat in the kitchen table finishing dinner as Bucky sat in the living room watching some TV show.

"So?" Dinah asked as we finished our dinner. "How was your first day of school."

"Everyone is an idiot," was my simple reply.

"That's not very nice," Oliver said.

"Not nice, but accurate," I muttered as I scooped the last of my baked beans onto my spoon.

"Well, you'll have to put up with it," Dinah instructed as she scooped more beans on my plate, which I didn't hesitate to begin eating.

"When am I going to get to go after Deathstroke?" I asked, irritated.

"Hold your horses, Tommy," Oliver said, "You need to be patient."

"It'll take more time to get you into the Team," Dinah said.

"No!" I growled, "I held up my end of the bargain."

"You have," Oliver said, "but you haven't even ever been seen as Speedy yet."

"And who's fault is that?" I asked.

Oliver smirked, "Be patient."

I glared at him. "Were you going out as Green Arrow tonight?" I asked.

He hesitated, "Tommy-"

"Then I will go with you as Speedy," I demanded.

"Not tonight," Dinah insisted, "it's a school night."

"Tonight," I insisted. "Or the deal is off."

"Tommy, you can't just-" Dinah began to protest.

"Fine," Oliver agreed.

"Oliver..." Dinah warned.

"If he insists we go tonight, then we'll go. I'll have him back before two AM, I promise," Oliver smiled at her, "Besides, he's right. He held up his end of the bargain. He went to school."

"Exactly!" I stated.

Dinah looked back and forth between us for a moment, clearly debating the matter. "Huh, make sure you're back before one AM."

"Will do," Oliver smiled. Turning to me, he added, "Get ready, Speedy."

|ARROW CAVE
|February 24, 18:45 PDT

"Nope," I refused.

"You have to, you're Speedy," Oliver protested.

"I would sooner go out in Superman pajamas," I told him as I inspected the bright red and yellow costume he presented to me. It consisted of a red tunic with red tights and yellow boots, gloves, belt and a yellow hat with a big red feather in it.

"You're Speedy now, you have to wear the outfit," Oliver repeated.

"I'm not wearing that," I stated firmly.

"You're Speedy," he repeated for the millionth time. I could see in his eyes that the suit had some kind of sentimental importance to him. I didn't know what happened between him and the last Speedy, but it seemed that he was almost using this moment as a sort of closure.

"It's completely impractical," I told him, "and it's way too big!"

"Huh," Oliver sighed, "Well you can't go out with out a suit."

"I had a suit," I told him.

"'Had' being the operative word," Oliver mocked.

I glared at him, "I know that Dinah gave it to you, Oliver."

He sighed, "You can't be seen in a costume already associated with the Light if you're going to be Speedy." His eyes got incredibly sad for a moment.

"OK..." I muttered looking around the "Arrow Cave" he had made into his base of operations. "I'll make a new suit."

He let out a loud laugh, "Yeah sure, then maybe we should postpone patrol until next week!"

I raised my eyebrow at me, "You doubting me, Oliver?"

He smiled at me, "Am I doubting that you can make a full functioning costume in less than a few days? Yes."

I grinned at him, "Wait and see, Green Arrow."

In no more than an hour and a half, I stood before him in my new suit. It had generally the same color scheme. I wore a deep mahogany colored pants with thick black patches on the knees for support. A black undershirt cut off just past the elbows, with matching black patches on the elbows, peaked out from under a matching mahogany colored tunic with a thick dark red hide chest piece and shoulder pads. I wore a red dyed leather hood with a bright red mask. On my hands I wore two black gloves with red palms and knuckles, with the left one being much longer and having a thick red leather pad on the inner arm to protect my hand from the snap of my bowstring. The belt and boots I had changed slightly, shortening the boots and darkening the belt a touch, but left them mostly intact. On the leather of my chest piece, just to the right side of my chest, I had embroidered an arrow and a feather crossed over each other.

"Not bad, kid, consider my words-" Oliver stopped mid sentence and smiled at me, noticing the marking I had made on my right chest piece. His eyes seemed to get a bit misty, "Nice touch."

I shrugged, "I figured, pay respects to the past."

He grinned, "Makes sense to me."

"I'm just happy you had so much extra material laying around," I smiled.

"In all honesty, I had forgotten about that. All of that was from when Roy-" he hesitated for a second, "when the last Speedy made his suit."

"Ah," I muttered a little awkwardly. "So, should we head out?"

"Not so fast," Oliver stopped me, "there's still one very important thing left to take care of."

He walked me over to the other side of the "Arrow Cave" (horrible name) to a series of seven glass cases. He pressed a button on the wall and they all opened up. They each held an already strung bow and quiver with an assortment of arrows.

"Pick one out," Oliver smiled.

I walked over and inspected the first bow. It was solid red with a simple recurve design. I picked it up and pulled on the bowstring. I couldn't help the grin on my face. It felt right. I didn't even need to see the others. I turned to face Oliver with a smiled on my face, though when I saw his face, my smile faded.

"That was Roy's bow," he said with a forlorn smile.

"Oh," I stammered, "I'll just-" I motioned to put it back.

"No, it's fine," he insisted. "It's befitting."

"Alright..." I muttered, slipping the quiver over my shoulder.

He walked over and put a hand on my shoulder. With a grin on his lips and watery eyes, he asked, "Ready to go, Speedy?"

I smiled back, "Born ready, Green Arrow."

AN: This was a thing, and as always, thank you for reading.