#archeringreen

I should probably check up with Ollie before I go; he keeps leaving messages. Something about milkshakes and movies... sounds a little odd. Think it's him trying to 'bond' again.

...Sometimes he just tries too hard. I know it's because he thinks I'm searching too much-- that it's eating up all of my time and my common sense.

He's bugging you about that now?

No. 

No, no, no, no, no.

That didn't just happen, she told herself, even though she herself had seen the knife, the blood, and the hole. But it had happened. One second, she was roundhouse-kicking some no-name idiot, one of a group of quite a few, who'd decided to rob the most secure bank in Star City, and the next, all she'd heard was a cry of "NO!" before she turned around.

And there stood Oliver, the love of her life, with a knife to the heart. The expression on his face was simply ghostly, the pain etched on every skin cell. She heard his four final words half a second before his body crumpled to the ground.

"For you, pretty bird."

She lost it. Tears flooded by pure rage streamed down her face as she took little mercy in using her Canary Cry. By the time the group had disapeared, she was full-out sobbing as she knelt next to Oliver's body, already starting to cool to the world.

No words would come, nothing as she she brushed strands of blonde away from his mask. Nothing could calm her, nor could anyone tear her apart from him. Not when the police and paramedics came, but of course it was far too late by then. It had been too late when he'd hit the ground. And not when Batman arrived, having somehow already picked up on the news. Not when Artemis had come along with him and not when Roy had appeared out of thin air.

archeringreen replied to your post: Mourn me - come on Bats - show us your true ~feeeelingss~~

(…….ouch - in retrospect - I did, literally ask for it)

He'd only looked away for a second, but a second was all it took.

Bruce always thought that perhaps this was the way he'd go; bleeding out in a dirty alley in the city. For the rest of the Justice League it was massive explosions, killer robots, weapons fueled by green rocks. Nothing less than spectacular would take down the superpowered members of the league.

For Ollie, it was a scared kid with a gun.

Bruce pressed his hand harder against the gunshot wound, as if by some miracle keeping pressure on it would undo the damage it had wrought. He knew they'd have to move soon, but he hadn't yet managed the strength to get up from the ground where he was kneeling with Oliver's limp body in his arms. 

Painfully, he was reminded of another alley.

Another mugging.

Another gun.

Another night of kneeling with people he loved as their lives left them, wishing more than anything that it was all a bad dream. But it never was.

Vaguely, he heard his league communicator beeping in his ear. He ignored it. 

There would be time for the rest of them, time to explain what happened, time to pretend that Dinah's heartbroken face didn't tear him to pieces. For now, it was just Bruce alone with one of his best friends, because that's they were. For all of Ollie's antics, he was the one person on the League Bruce could really connect with. Clark, J'onn, Diana, the rest of them, they all had powers and abilities. Batman and Green Arrow were just mortal men with gadgets. 

He wondered if Star City would honor their fallen hero, if they'd even notice he was gone. No doubt Red Arrow and Artemis would step up to fill the empty space Ollie left. 

Roy. Another person he wasn't eager to bring the news to, but it had to be him. He owed it to them, to Roy, Artemis, and Dinah. To tell them that it was his own negligence that brought this upon them. 

He focused on Ollie's face, the skin that was already cooling, the eyes that he had shut himself so that he wouldn't have to see the glassy stare of the dead. 

...