Thanks to everyone reading this story. It's supposed to be Oliver centric and my take on the identy theme of the season.

at Guest: Thanks for reviewing. I don't really see anything happening between Amanda Waller and Oliver like... ever. She just seems too cold for that.

at superfly: Thanks for taking the time to review. Well, I love Roy! I think he - at least - brings in some form of humor and lightness.

I don't own Arrow (or any of the people mentioned beyond the line).

Arrow - Gotham Chronicles

"Wayne Manor?" Oliver stops at the side of the road causing Cat to turn her bike around.

She takes her helmet off and raises her brows. "What did you think where we're going?"

Daylight has already broken through the night. And Oliver is glad that Wayne Manor lays isolated in the outskirts of Gotham.

He shrugs before his face turns serious. "Bruce and me didn't exactly part on good term," he reminds her.

Her face becomes annoyed, "Oh, I remember. But Oliver, what Bruce and you disagreed on… you've changed your ways haven't you?"

Oliver sighs heavily.

"Oh, will you stop your pity party. I wouldn't take you to Wayne if he'd throw you out the minute we arrive," Cat puts her helmet back on swings her long legs over the bike. The motor roars and she leaves him standing in the dust.

He arrives only seconds after her, yet when he takes his helmet of Cat is nowhere in sight. How she manages to disappear on him (has from the start) will forever remain a mystery to him. The area around Wayne Manor is how he remembers it, vast and kept in perfect shape.

Indecisively Oliver stands in the huge gateway (Bruce must know he's here, because the gate had been open – then again it's Cat and she always finds a way in). He groans and chastises himself (he's not a scared boy) then sprints up the stairs to the door. The doorbell rings loudly, Oliver can hear it even standing outside.

"Mr. Queen," Alfred welcomes and if he's surprised by Oliver being here he doesn't show it. "I shall tell Master Wayne of your arrival. If you don't mind waiting here, please."

The butler leads him into the foyer, before he disappears up the stairs. It's like nothing changed in the house and for a second Oliver flashes back to when he first scouted the house. He had woken up upstairs – alone and disoriented, made his way down with a hook he found in front of the fire place in his room. He snuck around trying to find out where he was and when Bruce found him, Oliver had recklessly attacked him despite his wounds. Of course half of them had to be re-stitched.

The hall is still dominated by wood and a bit too dark for his taste and it reminds him of his former estate in the worst and the best way. The pictures on the wall are still the same. The most prominent being the one with a small boy standing between his parents. It's a heavy oil painting but it speaks of a time before all this started, before a ten year old boy had to witness his parent's murder for a few pearls and dollars. Before said boy became…

"Oliver?"

Oliver twists and finds Bruce coming down the stairs. If he ever wears something apart from a suit or his vigilante outfit, Oliver hasn't seen it. His face is painted in surprise (though it's not entirely unpleasant or hostile) – Bruce simply looks surprised to see him. Oliver shakes his head in exasperation and exhales.

"I suppose then Cat didn't inform you she'd bring me here?"

"Cat?" Bruce raises an eyebrow. "Of course she wouldn't."

"Does she live here now?" Oliver wonders out loud, because he realises the key to her bike rests dutifully in the bowl on a wooden table, with every other key. He can tell by the key chain – a small black knuckleduster, made only to fit maybe two fingers. Briefly he wonders why she'd put it in there in the first place, give her trust issues, but then again she doesn't really need keys.

Oliver follows Bruce down the hall and into the living room.

"Do you really think she'd ever be willing to do that?" Bruce asks back and Oliver thinks he hears some frustration in his tone. There's always been this pull between these two and for a second Oliver wants to know what happened between them since the last time he's seen them. He doubts however he'll get much of an answer.

"Scotch?" Bruce offers and Oliver nods. Darkness has fallen and the room is lit dimly by the indirect lamps on the wall and the raging fire in the fire place.

It's a familiar atmosphere and Oliver relaxes ever so slightly.

"So - I was glad to hear, you're not dead," Bruce starts and prompts a snort from Oliver.

"You're the only one, then."

Bruce looks up in surprise and hands him the Scotch. He sinks in the deep cushions of the armchair in front of the fireplace and motions Oliver to do the same.

"What do you mean?"

Oliver shakes his head and takes a sip. "Why am I here, Bruce?"

"I wonder," Bruce chuckles. "But then I always wonder what she's thinking. Tell me what happened? Where did you disappear to?"

"You mean recently or four years ago after you threw me out?"

"Recently," Bruce clarifies and ignores Oliver's words. Oliver takes it as a sign, that they have indeed reached a truce.

He isn't sure what prompts him to tell Bruce - maybe, because they are similar in such very different ways, because they were always able to understand the other – until their differences overshadowed their resemblances.

"Ra's Al Ghul…" Bruce takes a deep breath. "There was no way you could've beat him."

Oliver nods grimly, "Not like I had much of a choice."

"I suppose not," Bruce agrees thoughtfully. "You survived, though. It means you're strong – stronger than he anticipated."

"Yes, I survived."

"Doesn't sound like you're too happy about it," Bruce points out.

Oliver takes a deep breath and watches the brown liquid swirl in the heavy glass. "It's not that. I just… I feel like maybe it would've been better for everyone if I hadn't come back."

"I think you're wrong. Starling needs you. The town was at war while you were gone."

"They didn't need me, not really. They found a way to deal with the situation and I came back to… something that was unfamiliar and something that no longer needed me. Starling, my team, they don't need me. Maybe I should consider the offer."

"What offer?"

Oliver smirks at Bruce, "Haven't I mentioned? Apparently getting killed by Ra's once wasn't enough for me…"

Oliver continues his story, about Malcolm Merlyn's abduction (he doesn't mention the role Thea played) and how they were captured in Nanda Parbat.

Bruce regards him with a contemplative look on his face. "He offered you his place as Ra's Al Ghul? What did you say?"

"I told him that I refused, but – I'm not sure if perhaps I made the wrong choice. And according to… someone who knows him, there's a prophecy that whoever survives Ra's sword would become the new Ra's, that it wasn't an offer but rather an order."

Bruce barks a quiet, grim laugh, "Oh, I know trust me."

"How?"

"Because a year ago, he offered the same thing to me. Ever since I declined Gotham has been under constant attack from the League. Ra's doesn't handle rejection well," Bruce says darkly. "I never imagined he'd go that far, but then I have always been wrong about him."

Oliver blinks in astonishment. Something nags in the back of his mind, something Bruce told him once. Someone he described with similar words, "Wait… the man you told me about. The one who trained you and the one you said was not who you thought he was… Don't tell me that was…"

"Yes, Ra's Al Ghul. He taught me how to fight."

It takes a few sips of scotch for Oliver to digest that information. A million question run through his mind, but nothing that really matters. If he had known that before… maybe Bruce could have trained him, but Oliver isn't sure he would have dared to call in for a favour.

Finally Oliver decides to concentrate on what he can't explain – not even with what Ra's al Ghul told him, "Why me then? Why you? Nyssa is more than capable of the title." He adds with distaste in is voice.

"He's getting old, he must have told you has much. Ra's al Ghul is nothing but a mythos, not a person, but a name," Bruce repeats what Oliver already knows. "You've impressed him. That's why he offered you the deal. Not an easy feat to accomplish."

"But to strip his daughter of the title because of a prophecy or her relationship with Sara," Oliver shakes his head, neither of those things are a reason for denying his daughter something's she's earned.

"That's not the reason," Bruce interrupts firmly. "I said you impressed him. First, because you survived his blade. Second, because you came back after facing death. You didn't run – instead you came back to face it once again. I think that's something he admires, because it's a trait he prides himself in – he sees it in me as well." Bruce snorts, "It's a trait Nyssa shares."

He remembers his time in the League vividly – and the relationship between father and daughter. "But I think that's not the reason he offered the Demon Head to you, prophecy or not. Ra's values a lot of things, loyalty and strength, but also the ability to keep your emotions in check. You came to Nanda Parbat to save a man you hate. Your head won against your heart. Nyssa never quite managed to keep her heart in check. She's impulsive, emotional. That's not something the Demon Head has the liberty to allow himself or herself."

Oliver stays silent. He wouldn't have categorizes himself as being level-headed but he's learned not to let emotion stand in the way of reason. Lessons learned hard and paid in blood.

"You're still considering it – the offer," it's not a question. Bruce's gaze is like a knife drilling in his skull.

Oliver takes a deep breath. "I refused but since then things have changed. There's someone using The Arrow to murder and cause panic, the people of the city, the police - they start turning against me. And as Ra's I have a chance to… make a difference."

"It's not worth it. We fight our demons every day, Oliver - to become the head of them, is not the way to win the fight – it's a sure way to lose. It will cost you your soul."

"There's not much left of it anyway," Oliver stares unblinking into the fire.

Cat leans her head back against the cold concrete. The shadow of the roof hides her figure on the windowsill completely from view. She's just found her way to truly repay Oliver for what he did for her.

Arrow

"So you're supposed to steal… whatever is in that box – which everyone refuses to tell me, very helpful by the way – and I'm just going to watch you do it?"

"If you're a good boy I might tell you what's inside," Cat jumps down elegantly from the counter and approaches him.

When Waller told him he was supposed to watch her every move she meant it. They share a two room apartment – more luxurious than he'd have since this whole mess started but nothing compared to how he lived before the island. Her room is adjourned to his, so that he could check on her at night (not that he would, because seriously!). The place has a spacious living room and an open kitchen.

"So Mr. Queen, we have the blueprints of the building so we could either start making a plan or we could get rid of the sexual tension because quite frankly I like sex and I hate working with such pressure around."

Oliver raises an eyebrow and watches her intently as she trails her hand up his chest and spreads her fingers over his heart.

"But let's get one thing straight. I'm not actually interested in you. I just don't like having this," she grimaces, " tension hanging around. We do this one time and that's it. We're probably going to be awesome at it, well I know I will, but do try not to weep after me."

"What makes you think I'd want to sleep with you?" Oliver smirks.

She looks with both eyebrows raised and then her gaze falls to his crotch.

"Busted," Oliver grins and pulls her to him.

…

"So, exactly what does she think I'm supposed to do here?" Oliver wonders. He's been at Wayne Manor for two day and there hadn't been a sign of Cat since the day he.

Bruce chuckles and shrugs, "Hell, if I know. Maybe you've already found it."

"What?"

"Have you seen the news lately?" Bruce changes the subject. "There have been no heists… maybe she's left town for a while?"

Oliver groans, "No offense, but this vacation has been nice and all, but I truly think that perhaps it's time to take my leave."

Bruce contemplates him for a while. "Have you found an answer yet?"

"An answer to what?"

"Ra's al Ghul."

The blond heaves a deep sigh, "I don't know. But Bruce if I take his offer I could stop all this. Stop the havoc they wreck in this world – in your town."

"Oliver, you don't seriously think that, do you? Because then I could've taken the offer myself. It's going to eat you up, until there's nothing left of you. Ra's al Ghul has existed for a long time. Don't you assume some of them had motives as noble as yours?" he turns to his trusted butler and friend.

Alfred had stayed silent until now, and if Oliver didn't already know how Bruce worked, he would've found it highly peculiar that he turned to him for guidance.

"What do you think, Alfred?"

Oliver is strongly reminded of his relationship with Diggle – his trusted advisor and best friend.

Alfred clears his throat and regards Oliver with a cold look. Oliver is never sure, whether the man likes him or not.

"I believe Master Bruce is right. The things you'll have to do will prey on the light present in you, till only darkness prevails. You should not take such a risk, Master Queen."

Oliver averts his gaze from the older man and looks out of the window into the generous backyard. Ra's Al Ghul offered him the position because he knows what kind of darkness Oliver wears inside. Oliver knows that, but he had thought maybe he could somehow manage to hold on to his humanity – apparently he's the only one thinking that.

"Oliver, keep in mind that he offered the same thing to me," Bruce says tight lipped and Oliver realises that Bruce is facing the same knowledge. But Bruce has always been fundamentally different from him. He's never been a torturer of a killer.

Tell me what you think!