Two chapters in one day?! Please make sure you've read 'Where You Loyalties Lie' before this.
September 22nd 2014
The Glades, Starling City, 1:56 AM PST
Waste. That was what his life had come too. A waste. There wasn't enough liquor in the world to drown his sorrows in. Maybe he should find the bay and drown himself in it. His home was the alley, his life was the street, his friend was his shadow, and the only thing that never failed him was the constant misery inside of him that never left. Rob gulped down the last of the cheap whiskey in his bottle and huddled into his corner, where he belonged, letting the drink warm him and cloud his mind from the pain.
Footsteps. He craned his head up, the street light made a shadow of the man standing in front of him. He walked closer, emerging from the light like an angel. Probably here to rob me and beat me to a pulp actually. But I have nothing anyway, I'd just be a waste of his time. A waste.
"Young man" the shadow said. It was some guy in a business suit, navy blue, tailored and refined, he looked rich, he smelled a whole lot better than he did, and he had an amiable look to his face too. Like the handsome, kind, smiling father in every family commercial.
"Let me help you."
"I'm…past…help" he slurred, wishing he would just go away and leave him alone.
"Please, I am Gerard. A friend of the people. You must be terribly cold. Let me give you some food and new clothes. You're deliverance awaits you, please, follow me." He outstretched his hand. He wasn't revolted or afraid of him, which was a first. The hand waited, blurry in his vision. Rob looked at the it warily, and took it. I have nothing left to lose. He followed Gerard; they walked for nearly half an hour. It was late at night; anyone could jump you and stab you for nothing. He wanted to warn suit-man to get a cab instead, but he was confident and strode through the most dangerous neighbourhood in the city like it was the park on a spring afternoon.
They came to a rundown church on Amsterdam and 5th. The windows were boarded up; trees were infested by wild weeds and roots, the fountain in the small garden choked by reeds, the water murky. Moss clung to the walls and the ceiling had caved in. If this is where he's taking me I'm better off in my alleyway.
"What? This pig sty is where you plan to help me? No thanks mister" he turned to leave, when the man grabbed his arm insistently pulling him to the church.
"No, no my friend. This is merely the outside, the shell, a cover for what is conducted within. We're a church of our own you see." He led him, still holding his arm into the church that had seen better days.
"I'm not religious".
"We're not a religion, more of an order; a brotherhood and sisterhood working together to bring solidarity and light back into the Glades, which has suffered unjustly in the years gone by. Has anyone come to help you at all? Those who do are deceitful charlatans; liars, cheats and false charities. They have plagued the Glades with false promises of hope. The Arrow changes nothing either. But not us. We will bring change. Come with me".
I really don't have anything to lose so might as well just roll with it. He followed Gerard down into the cellars which were actually, surprisingly well-kept. The floors were swept, the walls were made of brick and the only smell was that of the cool subterranean air. Rob could hear a loud congregation down the hall; he followed Gerard who had quickened his pace.
"Who leads this church?"
They arrived at a large room, filled with people, people like him; dirty, homeless, bedraggled and struggling to survive, men and women, folk from all trades come together as one. The din they made rang in his ears. In the centre of the room another man in a suit stood on a pedestal arms stretched out to embrace his followers as if he was the Pope.
"He leads us!" Gerard shouted and pointed at the man on the pedestal, who had turned around to embrace the other side of the room.
He wore a skull mask.
"Brother Blood."
2009
Hong Kong
One thing he did miss about the island; being alone. He would never have believed it coming from his own mouth after the two years on that wretched hellhole, but it was true. He missed being alone. The solitude, the gifts of isolation, only having to rely on himself. In the Hong Kong streets, the cacophony of noises, stew of seedy, sleazy smells, and the dusty grey smog of car exhaust were starting to annoy Oliver. The crowd shoved him and carried on crying their stocks and wares to sell, nobody knew what he was enduring. He missed the rain and the beach— though not the memories that came with it, Sara…Shado.
Or maybe he missed having actual friends he could trust instead of being surrounded by people who hated him, who had the burden of having him as their charge, like Maseo and Tatsu.
"Are you in position?" Maseo asked over the comms.
"Yup" he replied bored, adding empathises to the 'p'.
"Does the target suspect he's being watched?"
"Nope."
He could practically see the crease of frustration on Maseo's forehead.
"Does he have a briefcase on him?"
"Yup".
"Can you stop answering, 'yes' and 'no' like some infant and form concrete observations?" Maseo snapped.
"Can I know who this man is? I'd like to know who I'm killing". Oliver peeked around the wall at the stout bald man in the light grey suit; he looked like a simple business man smiling jovially at the shopkeepers, bargaining with them for the low-quality souvenirs they sold.
"None of your concern".
"Your four favourite words, after 'I will kill you'". His mark moved from the stall he was at and down the road. "Target is moving." Oliver followed after him, keeping a distance of ten feet.
Thud, thud, thud, the crowd thickened and bumped against him, he tried to keep his gaze locked on the back of the man's head, shined to a sheen like a cue ball. Then a cart rolled over his foot. Oliver groaned. It was all it took to lose sight of the bald-business man.
He cursed and continued to walk forward; maybe he'd be able to catch him again. That was when he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and tug him into the alley.
It was his target. Then it was his target's fist smashing into his jaw. Oliver reeled backwards, clutching his face, simple businessman my ass. He swung the briefcase and Oliver ducked beneath it, his head spinning with stars.
"I knew she'd come for me eventually" he growled, and punched him in the gut twice, knocking the breath out of him. He was probably talking about Amanda. I share your sentiment dude but I really ought to kill you now. Oliver took out his knife and swiped at the man's leg, he missed, he straightened and tried again, but his target wasn't as unskilled as he appeared. He used his briefcase to catch Oliver's knife inside the leather and throw both objects aside. He charged into Oliver like a bull and they rolled onto the ground both trying to get the upper hand.
Maseo's voice filled his ear, "what's taking so long?" He demanded.
Oliver prised fingers off his neck and head-butted him. "Just a sec" he retorted through gritted teeth. They both stood. There was a wheel of rope on the ground, he snatch a length of it as his target moved towards him with his knife, determined to live out the rest of his days by escaping ARGUS. But it's my job to ensure you don't.
"There's a war coming lad, I'd be doing you a favour by killing you now" he said and lunged. He didn't know anything about any war, he knew nothing at all, not even the name of the man he was about to kill.
Oliver was too quick for him; he swivelled left and looped the rope around his neck and pulled, holding him steady against his chest.
"But I just want to go home" he muttered softly.
The target sputtered and struggled fruitlessly, clawing Oliver's hands for release. Five, four, three, two…one.
He loosened his grip and the body slumped to the dirt ground, face first. Oliver stared at the palms of his hands, red marks indented inside of them, a little piece of himself gone.
September 22nd 2014
The Foundry, Starling City, 17:17 PM PST
He had tried to sleep but the work and nightmares kept him awake, he tried coffee but that made him restless and forced him to train. Afternoon naps for Oliver Queen were unheard of. To make himself useful he studied the CADMUS articles; apparently it had maintained façade of innocent research facility for nearly three decades. Even then it could have been using a different alias before that. Felicity had compiled a list of its investors, in the flurry of names the one that lit the brightest flare was Ray Palmer. In addition to the fact that Felicity was considering the man's job offer. CADMUS' main area of interest was bioengineering and genetics, but that could imply multitudes of experiments and scientific discoveries that the company took down with it when it was shut down.
He had come to a dead end with investigating the assassinated employees of Alliance Tech and the company itself. Simon Lacroix had disappeared off the face of the Earth. It was like CADMUS never existed, or someone doesn't want it too. Perhaps the facility itself warranted a visit, if it was still standing. Maybe a visit to Ray Palmer if he's not still being held by ARGUS. 'Artemis' was another possible suspect to question but like CADMUS, she didn't exist. The blood had come up blank in all of the world criminal databases. A shadow of the League of Assassins, born and raised most probably. He didn't want to cross Sara if he tried looking for Artemis, but it didn't seem as though he had a choice.
"I have an announcement to make" Felicity proclaimed with a wide joyful grin as she came down the stairs with sprite in her steps, she spread her arms out. "I got a job!"
"Don't you already have a job?"
"No, the job at Queen Consolidated!" Alarm bells set off in Oliver's mind. "I am finally free of Tech Village, late-night shifts, and customers asking me the difference between a pen drive and memory stick". He would've chuckled with her if he wasn't incredibly suspicious of Ray Palmer and his intentions.
"Palmer's back at work already?" He asked nonchalantly.
"Yeah he demanded that ARGUS let him go, even though he was nearly killed by an assassin a week ago". It was strange but if the man decided he did not want their protection, they had no right to detain him. "Anyway I brought your favourite carb to celebrate; donuts" she held up a bag with a box them of inside and jostled it enthusiastically.
Now he could smile, "Thank you and congrats". He was glad for her; Tech Village had been a waste of her potential, at QC her skills could be appreciated and used more efficiently even if it meant working for someone Oliver did not trust. "When do you start?"
"Tomorrow" she sat down across from him, resting the bag on the table; he reached for it to help himself when she said "I hope this is okay".
"What do you mean?"
She glanced away, "I don't know. I guess I'll be at work and I won't be seeing as much of you as I used too. I know it's been quiet lately".
"But that won't last". Why am I such a downer?
"Always trying to lighten the mood aren't you?" Felicity gave a half smile, during the uneventful week he had missed those awkward smiles. "Anyway I'll try my best to be here."
She wasn't saying much, but it seemed like she was doing all the talking, he needed to speak up or she was going to make the decision for both of them on her own. He couldn't let that happen. He didn't want it to end before it had even begun. But all this unfinished business between them was unfair on Felicity, he reached for her hand.
"Felicity, what I said at the hospital—"
"Hostage situation on Parkson and Glen!" Roy barraged into the Foundry, Oliver retracted his hand and made an angry fist below the table. I swear I'll punch him if he interrupts us next time, even Diggle wasn't this bad. Felicity jolted onto her feet and rushed to the computers.
"Helicopter and police squad are on the scene" she said. The week is getting louder and louder. He had been throwing orders at Roy incessantly for the past few days to keep him sharp and ready for anything, to the point where his protégé was muttering curses under his breath at the work. Lately his banter with Felicity was lacking but at least he had Roy to tease. He went to get his bow, "suit up Roy! Vacation's over!"
Violet Hill, Starling City, 17:48 PM PST
"He has a gun to her head, the situation has turned desperate".
Oliver and Roy parked out of sight of the cop cars. Helicopters were hovering over the building with spot lights. As they climbed up the fire escape the crazed declarations of the hostage-taker gained volume, his hostage was wailing and begging for help.
"I am the prophet heralding the dawn of a new age! Sinners beware of my judgement; the light will shine on you all and the chase the shadows of—"
"Please. Shut up".
The Arrow perched on the parapet. The man tightened his hold around the woman's neck, swinging his gun at them recklessly as it if were a toy, I hate guns.
"Your mask does not protect you from God's punishment!" He yelled fervently. The woman cried out as he shot several rounds at the Arrow. He leapt up and dashed off the parapet. "Neither do you bring true salvation to the people!"
Roy snuck up behind the mad man and shot him in the shoulder. He screamed and dropped the gun, simultaneously releasing the woman he was holding against her will. She dropped to the ground in a heap and Roy helped her get away. Oliver rushed at the preacher as he fell onto his knees, but in his frenzy he was totally unaffected by the arrow's pain and continued his proclamations.
"This does not hinder my pilgrimage!" He pointed to the arrow.
"But I will" Oliver growled and kicked him in the face, knocking out two teeth that trailed a line of blood. Before he passed out he spat saliva and blood onto the ground, staring up at the Arrow in defiance.
"Be warned, I am only the beginning of a shift in the balance of our world. Blood is coming, rising from the ashes, reborn. His face, a skull."
He did not like the sound of that. This was old news. He bent down and punched him across the cheek for good measure. He was talking nonsense.
"Sebastion Blood is dead! Brother Blood is dead!"
The man was losing consciousness; he shook his head gently. He looked at him with one eye was swollen shut, starting to bruise purple. "Brother Blood is immortal".
Iron Heights, Starling City, 18:19 PM PST
Laurel had been playing referee for nearly two weeks now with this Count Vertigo deal. The proceedings were completely legal and seemed sensible if they wanted to get anywhere further with the case, but she still felt as though the whole business was underhand. She wasn't in any illusions that the world was a simple place to live in, but pulling back the curtain wasn't a pleasant experience at all. She sat beside her client, Nathaniel Diego, across from the division leader at the DEA, Bill Baston. As expected, negotiations were going south.
"What does he want in exchange?" Asked Bill as if Nathaniel was invisible.
"I'm sitting right here" the former drug-cook snapped, earning himself a loathing glare from Baston.
Laurel cleared her throat and pushed the necessary documentation towards the DEA agent. "His sentence shortened to two years, after that another two on parole."
Bill looked them dead in the eyes and then started to snicker; Laurel scowled, her patience as thin as ice. "No way, absolutely not. That's a steal. There are seven others guy here who'd give me what I want for less than what you're asking. I think I've heard enough." He stood before either of them could argue the matter further. Nathaniel glanced over at her and shrugged in defeat. She hadn't give up yet, with the near impossible odds of getting any of these criminals out of jail, she had never been more determined to win than she was now.
She went after Baston and swerved, blocking his path. "The DEA is meant to be working in cohesion with District Attorney's office and the SCPD for vital information regarding Count Vertigo's production in Starling City" she said. "You are aware of how much death and conflict this drug has caused. And I know you have spoken to each of the detainees already and you are wasting an opportunity and my time!"
Baston was not persuaded; "I'm sorry Ms. Lance, but I cannot abide to his terms" he stated firmly and pushed past her. She nearly went after him again to deal with him more aggressively the way Sara or Oliver would but her phone rang.
"Yes, dad?" She said exasperatedly.
"Yikes. Not even a hello? Wake up on the wrong side of the bed or something kiddo?"
She paced about the hall way, "you've put me in an impossible position, you know that?"
"I'm sorry Laurel, but the decision to move forward with this deal came from the Mayor's office, and he's my boss." Laurel could never be cross with her father for very long and she understood it wasn't solely his call. "Anyway I called because there's something you ought to know."
"What?"
"It's about Sebastian Blood."
The Foundry, Starling City, 18:23 PM PST
Two words resonated with Oliver on his drive all the way back to the Foundry, Brother Blood. Old enemies returning from the dead, coming back for their revenge, it seemed like. First Vertigo, now Sebastian. What goes around comes around. He sent Roy to the Glades to uncover any semblance of truth to the madman's demented tales. When he arrived at the lair, he heard feet pounding down the stairs from the ground floor entrance.
"There's a mad man at police station ranting about Brother Blood?" Laurel asked him and Felicity. "Is this for real? I don't understand, Sebastian is—"
"Dead" he finished, meeting her in the centre of the room. "Stabbed twice in the chest in the mayor's office, there was no way he would've survived. He would've died instantly."
"But is he really?" Felicity wondered out loud, which made him wonder if it meant to be heard or was just a thought. They both looked at her as if to ask whether she was seriously suggesting it. She held up an arguing finger, "in my defense, stranger things have happened. Five months ago the city was under siege from an army of mirakuru enhanced super soldiers. And the skull mask was never found either."
"Okay, a miracle drug, yes, I'll buy it" Laurel went on. "But a man rising from the dead? No way. He has to be imposter, someone who took up the mantle after Blood died."
Oliver agreed with that idea better. "We have to figure out who it is. Roy is canvasing for information as to why the name 'Brother Blood' is a topic on the streets again." He moved to replace his bow in its holder.
"Actually, I came to here to discuss something else with you guys" Laurel announced, getting their attention.
He looked at her curiously, they hadn't been going after List names for a while now, so it had to be something else. "Go on."
She sighed hesitantly, "Vertigo."
He frowned. "What about it?"
She glanced uncertainly between him and Felicity. "Well you're not going to like what I have to say."
"Laurel" he said in a tone that wanted her to spit out her secret immediately.
"It's a deal between the DEA and SCPD that I'm mediating" she blurted. "The night you busted the Lex-corp plant, several of Werner's scientists and hired muscle were jailed."
"So basically the deal is information in exchange for freedom?" Felicity deduced straight away.
Laurel nodded; grateful she didn't have to explain it further, "to put it in layman's terms, yes. It's not going well. I wanted to know if you had any leads on Vertigo, anything at all that could help them."
His brow wrinkled in consternation, Felicity spoke out for both of them. "Wait, you're freeing drug cooks and mercenaries. Why on earth would you want to help them?"
She shrugged noncommittally and held her palms up as if it didn't really bother her. "It's my job. And I do believe in second chances". Though he could tell she wasn't pleased. Oliver didn't agree with the deal initially but it could help them too if Werner Zyrtle's underlings could tell them anything useful about their former employer. He hadn't thought about Vertigo for a while, the trail had gone cold, the drug's end unreachable and unattainable. Any new insight could push that case out of the dark.
"We deduced that Werner offered protection to criminals in the city from me by trying to kill me" Oliver told her. "When he didn't succeed he disappeared, but before he did, I can say for certain that the League of Assassins was involved."
She gasped, "The League of Assasssins? With Vertigo? Oh my God. Did Sara tell you any of this?"
"No she wasn't in the mood for sharing" Felicity added with a dash of her usual honesty and sarcasm. "It's been complicated between us; we didn't exactly end on good terms."
Roy returned then, he had a severe look on. "What did you find?"
"The Church of Blood. They're picking up homeless people off the street and taking them somewhere. But no one could tell me any specifics."
The Church of Blood? It made sense why the hostage-taker was spewing drivel about Brother Blood. He was in a cult, or some sort of religious sect bent on saving the Glades the way Sebastian had intended to save it, in his own perverse way. Thankfully this time around they don't have super human soldiers on their side.
"This has a lot of religious overtones, but it has nothing to do with it" said Oliver.
"We're going to intervene right? In the absence of anything better to do, man in a skull mask rounding up wackos to join a cult that takes hostages? We deal with exotic criminals don't we?" Felicity said.
"I have an idea" said Laurel, she had studied Sebastian Blood almost obsessively last year, and therefore she knew more about the deceased mayor than any of them did. "Sebastian's orphanage, on Amsterdam and 5th it was converted to St. Walker's church, but it burned down last year; they could be using it as a base."
"It's good a place as any to start. Thanks Laurel." They busied themselves again getting ready, but she lingered for a moment.
"I don't know what's going on with Sara either" she said to everyone. "I also noticed she seemed unsettled, even for her. But I know she'll come around."
He gave her a slight nod that he acknowledged the unwavering faith she held for her sister before she left. If only she knew the whole story. If only we did.
St. Walker's Church, the Glades, Starling City, 19:07 PM PST
He turned to Roy, "stay on the perimeter, we don't know what's inside and I don't want you to strain your shoulder before the wound's properly healed".
"Copy that" his partner backtracked and scouted the outside of the run-down church whilst he ventured inside. He walked between the pews, layers of dust and dead leaves scratching beneath his boots. The walls were waterlogged and peeling, black with soot crawling up the walls. The roof was caved in; gaping open like a wound, there was no moonlight.
"Perimeter is clear" Roy said.
"The church has a cellar" Felicity told him. Oliver discovered the entrance at the back of the hall, there were no locks, and it wasn't bolted shut. Like they want me to come in. He readied a shaft and eased the door open, stairs led down into dark nothingness. Carefully, he watched his step and descended into the bowels of the church, uncertain of what would be at the bottom.
As he reached the landing, a circle of light was positioned in the room. He heard the scrape of footsteps. He aimed left and increased his string's tension; a face emerged from the gloom into the light, then two more, then five, then six.
"You have come" one of them whispered. She looked like an innocent woman, dressed modestly, staring at him in enthrallment.
"It's him!"
"As Blood predicted!"
"Who are you people? What are you doing here?" He shouted as he heard another flock approach his right. This was getting worse by the second; he didn't want to hurt any of them, as they didn't seem to want to hurt him.
"To hear him preach, Arrow. All are welcome in our church" said the first woman, reaching to touch him.
They closed in on him, one by one, then all, reaching out to brush his suit, suffocating him. He removed his arrow and tried to smack their hands away, he couldn't hurt the followers, they were innocents, being fooled by a madman.
"Welcome Arrow" said a voice that rose above all of theirs. The followers parted like the Red Sea, and the man in the skull mask walked towards him.
"Have you come to face our judgement? To be absolved as the others have been?" He asked.
"These others look like lost souls and homeless people you've manipulated!"
"Blasphemer!" They screeched in unison. Clawing for him he held them off with his bow, trying to keep them at bay.
"Blasphemer!"
"They don't think so" said the masked man. "I am Brother Blood, and you are blessed to be in my presence."
"Sebastian Blood is dead!"
"Resurrection, Brother. God has chosen his prophets to bring back from the dead."
"Sebastian Blood is dead!" He shouted, he turned to a follower, "you are living a lie!"
"A lie, you say" challenged the man in the skull mask the shadows on his mask seemed to deepen, "these people were abandoned by the city you swore to protect. And now for your failure, you will face their judgement. As always the unrighteous are outnumbered."
"Praise be Brother Blood!"
"Long live Brother Blood!"
"Long live Brother Blood!"
They closed in on him and attacked him, arms flailing, wrapping around him.
…
Felicity waited with bated breath. She hadn't heard from Oliver since he descended into the cellars. She tried Roy.
"Oliver isn't answering me, I really hate it when he does that. I think you should go down into the cellars and make sure he's alright."
"He told me to stay outside what with my shoulder and all don't worry about Oliver, Felicity".
"Well, old habits die hard. Could you at least, I don't know, go inside?"
"Okay, I'll do that" he consented and keyed off before she could tell him to stay on the line.
I wish they'd keep their mics on!
…
Roy padded softly into the church. He felt eyes on him and aimed at the gallery behind the pews. A homeless teenager held his hands up in surrender.
"Whoa! No harm brother, no blood shall be spilt here tonight! This being a church and all."
"What are you doing here?!" I nearly shot him.
"Here for worship, to be blessed, blah, blah, blah—give you a chance to face your judgement from the prophet."
"You're one of them; a follower of the Church of Blood, the prophet is the man in the skull mask".
"Yes, praise be Brother Blood, but it isn't him you're going to meet."
"What are you talking about?" Roy brought his bow back up again, saw something moving out of the very corner of his eye.
A fist swung and his head exploded with brilliant light.
Then all was darkness.
…
They grappled with him as Brother Blood's hand stretched out towards his face. They shoved him forward, he strained against their hold but they bore down on him like a tonne. No, this cannot be how it ends!
"Only two prophets have been granted the right to bear a mask, your attempt is sacrilegious. Your farce is over, Brother, you cannot hide".
Blood pried his fingers into Oliver's mask and pulled.
A/N: I was heavily inspired by the Arrow 2.5 comic, so there are a ton of similarities, but I promise I'm putting my own twist on it, you'll see ;)