A/N: I've got another update for you guys! Read and enjoy!

Archery was something that used to bring Roy unbelievable joy. Not that it didn't anymore. He still felt the thrill when he picked up his bow and his heart still gave a flutter when he shot an arrow. Something had changed though. Sometimes he had a hard time deciding if the rush was from excitement or fear; and if the flutter from his heart was happiness or anxiety. He couldn't think about archery without thinking about Oliver. There was a time when even the emerald archer's name was exciting as shooting itself. Green Arrow. The greatest archer in the world. Now, just like holding his bow, the rush was more from fear than admiration. These thoughts weighed on Roy's mind while he ate breakfast. He couldn't deny, no matter how hard he tried, that Oliver scared him. The man was unpredictable, even when he was in a good mood, and his temper was short. Too short. There was also what happened when Oliver lost his temper.

'It's also what happens when I misbehave or get on his nerves,' Roy reminded himself as he finished up his oatmeal. 'If I would just listen and behave he wouldn't be so hard on me.'

Roy finished eating and quickly washed his dishes. Already dressed in loose clothes he made his way down to the range. He stopped in the arsenal to quickly grab his bow and quiver. He walked into the long room on the basement level of the mansion and turned the light on. He smiled as he took in the space. The first time he'd seen this room he'd been ecstatic. A private archery range where he could practice day or night. Then Oliver had actually made him practice day and night for 3 days straight without rest and only minimal food and water. After that, the room became a little less fun. The memory of when he'd first seen it when he was 12 was still nice though, so he channeled that excitement to carry him into the room. He stepped up to one of the alleys and slipped his quiver on. There was some protest from his previously dislocated shoulder at the sudden weight, but he could shrug it off. He rolled his shoulders and neck to relax them. He eyed the targets as he took an arrow from his quiver. They weren't traditional targets with rings, they were human torsos, complete with necks and heads. There were red X's on the places where an arrow would be lethal.

Ignoring the slight tremor that shook his hand and the twisting feeling in his gut, Roy nocked and aimed his arrow. He hit his mark on the first try and loaded another arrow. He quickly emptied his quiver on the torso. He went and retrieved them, ignoring the way his heart pounded when he pulled them from the body. 'Fake,' he reminded himself mentally. 'Fake. It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.' The fact that it could be real didn't help. He went back to his standing position and aimed another arrow. His hand started shaking. He couldn't see the fake person, he could only see the real one. The mugger from the week before. The terrified look in his eyes. Begging Roy to let him live, just this once. He shook his head. 'No, no, no, I didn't kill him. I didn't, it wasn't me.'

'You didn't save him either,' a voice whispered in his head. 'You're Green Arrow's accomplice, you're just as guilty.'

"No," Roy whispered, hands shaking. "No, I didn't do it. I didn't kill him."

'Murderer.'

"No!" He shot the arrow and it missed the cadaver by at least a foot. Roy jumped and looked around quickly. He took a deep breath to calm himself down. 'Focus Roy, focus.' He was just glad Oliver hadn't been around to see that. He shivered involuntarily. Oliver didn't tolerate him missing. He nocked another arrow and shot it, hitting his mark exactly. It made him relax a little, but he couldn't breathe properly again until he made every shot that he fired. He rolled his shoulders as walked over to retrieve again, trying to dislodge the pain in his injured shoulder. It made him grit his teeth when he pulled the arrows out of the fake body and wince when he put the arrows back in his quiver. He rubbed it gently. 'I really wish Oliver had left me some pain medicine.' It wasn't like he was going to ask for any. He kept shooting though, firing off arrows that never missed while pain built up in his ribs and shoulder.

Roy kept shooting until noon, by which time his shoulder was screaming and his ribs made it hard to breathe. He knew Oliver hadn't left him anything for lunch, but he still staggered upstairs in the vain hope maybe he'd missed something. Unfortunately, the counters were empty, much like his stomach. He stared longingly at the pantry, mostly at the lock on the door. So he went back downstairs to restring his bow. He added more eight to his draw, like Oliver told him, wincing at how it pulled his shoulder when he pulled the string into place. Once that was done he went back down to the range and started shooting again. Pain spasmed across his body when he drew it and his arrow missed by at least two feet. He winced and shot again, happy he at least hit the target, even if he missed the 'X' he was shooting for. 'It's ok,' he told himself. 'It's ok. Oliver isn't here. He didn't see. It's ok. I have time to get it right. It's ok.' He nocked another arrow and shot again. He hit the 'X' and nodded in satisfaction. Unfortunately, that satisfaction turned back into fear when he missed his next shot. He ignored the pain that had started radiating throughout his body and kept shooting.

Over the course of the afternoon, he managed to get his record back to perfect. By the time he heard Oliver's footsteps he wasn't missing a single shot. Which was good. He felt his guardian's presence behind him just as a muscle in his shoddier spasmed. "Ah!" he let out a cry of pain and accidentally let go of the bowstring. The arrow missed the target and he put his hand on his shoulder to ease the pain. He froze when he felt a hand already there. He swallowed. "H-hi Ollie."

"Hi, Roy." He squeezed Roy's shoulder, getting a gasp of pain from the teen. "Have you been practicing all day?"

"Uh-huh."

"Really?" He squeezed harder and Roy whimpered, knees buckling a little. "Then why did you miss?"

"I-it was an accident. M-my shoulder spasmed- It wasn't my fault!"

"Don't shout at me!"

"Sorry." Oliver released him and Roy staggered away.

"Bow." Roy handed his bow to Oliver without complaint. He tested the draw strength and nodded. "Good. Keep practicing."

Roy took his bow back as his stomach dropped. "Uh….I was wondering if-if maybe I could take a break?"

Oliver narrowed his eyes. "You want to take a break? After you just missed a shot?"

Roy swallowed and nodded. "Yes please, sir."

"I'll give you a choice." Oh no. "You can either stop until we go on patrol or eat dinner."

"What?!"

"You can't have both. You can take a break, but no dinner."

"B-but I didn't eat lunch-"

"Not my problem. You're the wuss who can't handle training."

Roy blinked, suddenly feeling helpless. He pushed away the urge to break down and cry. "Ollie….please….I'm hungry and my injuries are hurting me."

"Like I said, wuss."

"P-please-"

"Make up your mind Roy, or I'll make it up for you. Break or dinner?"

Roy sighed. He wanted to eat. The hunger pains in his stomach didn't give him a choice. The pain everywhere else though, in his shoulder and ribs, in particular, was far worse. "B-break please."

"Fine. No dinner. Get out of my sight. Your weakness disgusts me."

Roy nodded. "Yes, sir." He left the room and put his bow and quiver away. Upstairs he laid down on his bed to rest his sore limbs. He really wanted pain medicine, but he couldn't risk asking. So he curled up into a tighter ball and tried to relax. HIs stomach growled at him. "Shush," he mumbled. "No food until breakfast." At least, he hoped Oliver would give him breakfast. He wasn't sure how long he laid there until he could vaguely smell dinner downstairs. His mouth watered and his stomach growled louder. A sharp pain in his stomach had him up and silently creeping down the stairs without thinking. He poked his head into the kitchen and discovered Oliver wasn't there. He stared longingly at the food on the stove. A crazy idea popped into his head. It was insane really, but then his stomach growled again and he lost all inhibitions about it. So he tip-toed to the stove and carefully used the spoon in the pan to eat a bite. It was burning hot, but he didn't care. It was food.

"Roy!"

Roy jumped back, accidentally knocking the pan not the floor. "Oh no."

Someone grabbed him from behind and spun him around. Roy cowered away from Oliver. "What were you doing?"

"I-I-"

"Well?!"

"I'm sorry! I was just hungry!"

"What did I tell you about no dinner?!"

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't eat lunch and I was just really hungry-"

"I," Oliver tightened his grip on Roy's arm. "am your guardian. I know what's best for you! If I decide not to feed you, it's because you don't deserve to be fed!"

"I'm sorry! Please, Ollie, please! I just wanted something to eat!"

"So you decided to steal food from me?!"

"No!" The slap was so hard it made his ears ring.

"Don't lie to me!"

"I just wanted one bite! I'm sorry! I won't do it again!"

"It better not! After everything I do for you, you're an ungrateful bastard for stealing!"

"Yes, sir."

"This isn't even the first time I've caught you doing this!"

"The last time was years ago."

"Clearly you still haven't learned your lesson!"

Blood drained from Roy's face. He still wasn't fully recovered from his last beating. "N-no! No, please! I won't do it again, I swear!"

Oliver looked around, then his eyes landed on the stove. He grabbed Roy's wrist and dragged him closer. "You will learn to obey me, Roy."

Roy realized what was going on and tried to pull away. "No! No Ollie, please! I'll be good! I'll behave I promise!" Oliver didn't listen. Instead, he put Roy's hand on the hot burner. Roy screamed and tears started streaming down his face. "Ah! S-stop! Please!" After a few seconds, although it felt like hours to Roy, Oliver released him. The teen stumbled backward and slipped on the food on the floor. He fell, naturally trying to catch himself with his hands. He screamed again and grabbed his hand by the wrist. Through his tears, he could see the red skin that covered his palm. HIs breathing was haggard. He blew gently on his hand, trying to ease the pain.

"I'm tired of you not listening! You will listen and do what I say! If I tell you not to eat, I expect you to obey!"

Roy nodded. "Y-yes sir."

"Stop crying!" He kicked Roy in the stomach. "Get out of here! I don't want to see you again until patrol! Understood?!"

"Y-yes sir." Roy got up and ran out of the room. He didn't stop running until he'd reached his bathroom. He turned the cold water on and thrust his hand under it. The sudden temperature change nearly caused him to fall to his knees in pain, but he did sag against the countertop. He took deep breaths, focusing his breathing through his nose and mouth. The pain made his fingers curl, but he kept his hand spread out. Glad that he was alone, he let out a whimper, and then a sob. He wiped at his eyes furiously, trying to get rid of the tears. 'Stop crying,' he scolded himself. 'Stop crying you, wuss! No wonder Oliver can't stand you! His ward is crying sissy!' He took another deep breath and wiped his face with a towel. 'Man up. You're a freaking vigilante, act like it!' He took his hand out from under the water and examined it. The skin on his palm was red and swollen. Pain seeped across his entire hand. He sighed as he awkwardly put it back under the cold water and looked through his first aid supplies. Besides having absolute control over pain medicine, Oliver kept him very well stocked with first aid supplies. Presumably because if he died Oliver would be terribly inconvenienced. He pulled out a roll of bandages and antibiotic cream. He turned the water off and dabbed gently at his hand with a towel. He hissed and winced.

After that was done he very gently put the cream on his hand and wrapped it in bandages. 'Patrol is going to suck,' he thought miserably as he walked out into his bedroom. He could feel a pulse in his hand as it hung limply. Although he was used to patrolling in bad condition, there were very few injuries that allowed for Oliver to keep him home. He sat cross-legged on his bed and cradled his burned hand in his lap. He breathed slowly through his teeth, trying not to loose focus. 'Just breathe. It's ok. Just breathe.' He sat like that until the sun went down and it was time for him to get ready for patrol. He left his room slowly, not wanting to go downstairs. He did though and found Oliver in the arsenal waiting for him.

"Get suited up," Oliver said, not even looking at him.

"Yes, sir." Roy suited up and made sure his quiver was fully loaded. He slung it over his shoulder, gritting his teeth in pain. It only got worse when he picked up his bow. He couldn't decide if it was better that his injured hand was the one he held his bow with. Granted it would hurt to hold it and draw against it, but on the other hand nocking arrows and drawing his bowstring with a bandaged hand would be really hard.

"Let's go."

— —

Speedy stuck close to Green Arrow all through the patrol. His mentor didn't allow him to go off on his own, which was kind of a letdown. Some time away from Green Arrow would've helped him relax, but instead, he found himself watching a possible arms deal. He watched the men with Green Arrow. One of them, a well-known crime boss in Star, shook the hand of another man.

Green Arrow growled, making Speedy shiver. "Finally," he huffed. He drew an arrow from his quiver and nocked it. "I've been waiting for months to take out this slimeball."

'Great, maybe this will put him in a good mood,' Speedy thought, nocking an arrow to his own bow. The trunks of the cars were opened, revealing some very impressive weaponry that could do some real damage if it made its way out onto the streets. Green Arrow shot the crime boss in the neck. The man let out a strangled cry and went down as the other men pulled out their guns. Green Arrow and Speedy jumped to the ground from their hiding spot.

"Game's over boys," Green Arrow said as the two archers trained their arrows on the group of men. "Justice has arrived."

"You say justice, we say murder, Arrow," one of the men snarled.

"I see no difference when it comes to scum like you."

"How noble." Green Arrow and Speedy fired their arrows into the barrels of the closest guns. Ignoring the pain and burning, Speedy fired off at his best speed, disabling all their guns. He then started firing at their hands, elbows, knees, and feet to keep them unarmed and immobile. Green Arrow, meanwhile, shot them all dead as quickly and efficiently as possible. Speedy did his best not to notice how soaked with crimson the asphalt was becoming. He heard a car door open and saw the driver trying to make a break for it. He shot the man in the knee to keep him from running.

"Green Arrow, over there!" He heard another car door slam and spun around, his arrow already nocked and ready. This driver and a gun, which he fired at Speedy. Speedy dodged and fired his arrow, hitting the guy in the hand. "Over here too!" From the corner of his eye he saw an arrow slice through the air and suddenly it was in the guy's chest. He went down and Speedy swallowed.

"Go search that car."

"Yes, sir." Speedy approached the car, keeping an arrow ready to fire. He found someone in the back seat, hiding on the floor. He used his first arrow to shatter the window, then used his second one to incapacitate the man. There was no one else in the car though. "There's one guy on the floor of the backseat," he told Green Arrow.

"Search the other car."

"Yes, sir." He ran over to the other car, taking a wide berth around the dead body. He looked in the windows but didn't find anyone else. He and Green Arrow met in the middle the lot. "There's no one else."

"Good." Green Arrow looked around and nodded. "Satisfying to see the city cleansed of such a scourge."

"Whatever you say…"

"Come on, seems like tonight's a good night to go on the hunt." Speedy followed him and they had relatively successful patrol after that. Only a block away from the arms deal they found a drug dealer. Only a half an hour after that they found two muggers. Green Arrow took a little bit of time with them. First he pinned them to the wall of a building and shot them just between their legs. Not so that he hit anything, but close enough that it certainly scared the two muggers. Green Arrow started laughing. "Look at 'em squirm Speedy. You ever seen anything like it?"

"N-no sir."

One of the muggers looked at Speedy and smirked. "Sir? He sure keeps you on a short leash boy."

Speedy scowled and fired an arrow right above the one Green Arrow had fired. He didn't hit anything, but it shut the guy up. "You're one to talk."

"I wouldn't be talking if I were you," Green Arrow growled at the criminal. He shot the other mugger, the one who'd intelligently stayed quiet, in the neck. The mugger jerked and fell limp against the arrows holding him up. "You'll be joining your friend here soon." The mugger started struggling against his restraints. Green Arrow sighed dramatically. "Struggling will just prolong the pain. On second thought, please, keep struggling."

The mugger looked at Speedy and froze. "Hey, kid, help me out. Please kid, come on! Show some mercy!"

Speedy swallowed and glanced at Green Arrow, who as watching him like a hawk. Speedy shook his head and stepped back. "I can't. You-you deserve to die." The last part came out as a whisper.

"Please! Come on, please! Don't let him kill me! Please-" He went abruptly silent.

"Let's go," Green Arrow said.

Fifteen minutes later Green Arrow took out two car thieves and someone they caught trying to break into an apartment. All their success seemed to put him in a good mood, based off how he was joking with Speedy towards the end of the patrol. The teen tried not to think too hard about how mentally unstable his mentor had to be to get energized by the number of people he was killing in a single night. By the time they went home, according to Speedy's count, Green Arrow had killed 20 people.

As they were getting undressed, Oliver gave a dramatic sigh. "Another successful night ridding the city of its criminal disease."

"G-good job." Roy winced as he put away his quiver. His shoulder and ribs were on fire, and his hand was spasming with pain.

"Oh, Roy," Roy's heart stopped, "before I forget, I have a business trip tomorrow."

"For how long?"

"Three days, not long."

"Ok." Three days without Oliver, Roy was reasonably excited about it.

"I'll leave out food for those three days. You can eat it whenever, but remember that I'm only leaving you enough for 6 meals."

"Yes, sir."

"While I'm gone I expect you to keep up with your school work and to practice your archery. You should be down in the range for at least four hours a day."

Roy nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Good." Oliver left and went upstairs. Roy felt some tension leave his body. He actually liked it when Oliver was away on business. It gave him a chance to live without walking on eggshells. He finished getting chased and went upstairs, figuring he should re-bandage his hand before he went to bed. 'At least I have three days of peace to look forward to.'