Arrow: Friend or Foe?

by Xhadow

An old day, some new thing.

Arrow: Friend or Foe?

"Are you sure you want to write that," I asked, amused, "the teachers might think you're the arrow."

"Meh," Lyra sighed, "I don't care, besides what's he done wrong?"

"Well, crimes of fashion for starters," Rarity interrupted, "green leather..." she shuddered, "and who does he think he's impressing with that bow, honestly I think he's overcompensating if you know what I mean."

I suddenly wondered what she was doing sitting with the "Rejects Council" (Aka Lyra and my study hall table) I was just about to voice just that when the teacher strolled up.

"The arrow isn't a hero, kids. He's a murderer and he will be caught." Cheerilee placed her hands on the table and looked directly at me, "Understand?"

I felt my heart freeze over, the blood turning to ice in my veins. 'Did she know? How'd she peg me? Did I leave my book in her reach? did they search my locker? Who else knew?!' The walls of the library started closing in.

"Hey Ollie, you sick or something," Lyra blurted out to the whole library.

Thinking fast I laid my head down on the table, "Just tired level 64 took forever."

Cheerilee groaned aloud, "You were up all night playing a computer game? Need I remind you of the test on Friday?"

"Please don't," I groaned into the table. "I have enough to deal with as it is."

"Yeah, like getting past the warlock guarding the key of secrets," Lyra pounded the table, "Just like that he'll sap all your magic and leech off of your aura, reversing up to 35% damage!"

"What happened to the deep philosophical conversations this table is infamous for?" Rarity asked, applying yet another layer of chap stick.

"Caught us on our day off princess," I said once I was sure Cheerilee had gone back to her desk.

"Philosophy test," Lyra deadpanned.

Rarity nodded slightly, looking like she was holding back tears.

"What do you need help with," Lyra sighed.

"Um...well," Rarity pulled out her book, "everything?"

"We'll help ya," Lyra glared at me across the table, "won't we, Ollie?"

"Nah, I suck at terms you're on your own with this one." I forced my chair back from the table and stretched my legs. I was still sore from where the bus hit me last Tuesday.

"N-no. Please I need all the help I can get."

Lyra glared at me, "Oliver." She said sternly, pointing to the tally marks on her wrist.

I rolled my eyes, "Fine, but this makes us even."

Lyra laughed, "For today."

"Fine, let's start with the basics then, yeah?" Lyra and I opened our books to the current chapter.

Communism.

"Wow," I sighed, "touchy subject."

"What don't you understand?" Lyra asked, trying to push the topic forward.

"Well, everything," Rarity flicked her book and I noticed some minute streaks in her eye shadow and a small strand of hair under her nail.

'This has been causing her a lot of stress.'

"I've read the section over and over, but I just don't get any of it." Rarity collapsed, sobbing into her book.

"I'll break it down for you." I offered, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Just stop crying, please you're embarrassing us."

Rarity looked up at me, tears in her eyes, "Really?"

"Yeah. Why not, it's not like I have anything better to do." I shoved my black book into my bag without breaking eye contact. 'Yeah, the city'll just save itself while I teach about the dangers of Communism.'

"I didn't think you'd care enough." Rarity slashed away her tears.

"Well, thanks for that."

"It's no secret that Lyra is the human one."

---

I drew the string back to my ear, the only thing I could feel was the fury of hell burning in me, "You. Have. Failed. This. City!"

In his last moments, with his back against the wall, Worthy Comb begged me to take his innocent daughter that he abused her entire life over him!

Without any further hesitation I put an arrow in the barber's throat and left him to drown in his own blood.

---

"Oliver...?" Lyra asked, snapping her fingers, "You spaced out again. Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." I sighed taking a deep breath, "Communism at its core is an economic theory proposed by Karl Marx..."

Rarity had tears forming in her eyes again.

I sighed, trying to think of a way to explain it. "A philosophy is kind of like an outfit. In the way that it's made up of several ideas, all working together behind the scenes to make something amazing on the surface. Now, the designer of this particular mess is this guy," I pointed to the picture in her book, "Karl Marx. He built a foundation on two particular philosophies: Atheism, which is the belief that there is no god; and Darwinism, which is the belief that everything alive comes from a common ancestor."

"Belief? That's a proven fact, Oliver."

"Back on topic, those are the undergarments, the shoes, what this whole thing stands on is communal ownership." Almost subconsciously I started a diagram of sorts.

"What does that mean? communal ownership?" Rarity asked between scratching notes.

"It means that everyone owns everything."

"Oh, that doesn't sound so bad."

"It means that you have nothing, no privacy. All of your personal belongings belong to whomever wants them."

"Oh, that's..."

"It brings us to the next piece, the pants, they're the belief that society is evolving past the need for social classes and money."

"But, how?"

"Government enforcement. Our shirt, they step in and decide who works where and how much they get compensated for it."

"Well, that doesn't seem fair."

"It's caused too many wars and cost too many lives." I thought back on the lives I'd ended, 'Am I any better than them?'

"The Arrow isn't communist Oliver," Lyra snapped me out of my daze.

shocked I tore my gaze from the table to my makeshift diagram. It was me, well by night anyway.

Even with my meager art skills I could recognize the figure taking shape under my pencil, "I'm not sure what he is anymore..."

"That's why someone other than the news has to write about him," Lyra tapped her notebook, "The local stations' all propaganda anyways."

The bell sounded, shaking me out of my reflective trance.

Rarity still looked on the verge of an all out panic attack.

I swept up my bag and started for the door. "Lyra'll help you fill in the nit-picky details and page numbers." I turned to rarity and flashed a quick smile, "You'll be fine, alright? After all this is all we do."

` 'Who am I going after tonight?' I opened my black book and scanned through the crossed out names until I came to the first unblemished name: Vinyl Scratch 'No. T-that can't be possible...'

I closed the book, taking several deep breaths I stumbled to my locker and threw it open.

The metal storage facility didn't contain much, my other two phones and my faded green duffel containing my arrow gear. "I really should move this...."

I lifted the duffel, checking for any signs of tampering. But thankfully none of my improvised seals (clear tape pressed tight over the zipper track) were broken.

I sighed, "What now Dash?"

The locker next to mine squeaked open and Rainbow's head appeared out of the darkness. "Seriously, how do you keep doing that?"
She leaped out and started a series of athletic stretches.

"There isn't much I don't notice anymore." Everyone I've killed flashed through my mind, faces twisted into expressions of pure agony as their final moments closed in around them. 'Cheerilee was right. I'm not a hero...I'm just the murderer that got away.'

"So, the team needs a new archer and I heard you're pretty good." Rainbow offered as she finished her stretches.

"Who told you that," I stowed my list and phones in my duffel, strapped on my backpack, and started for the door.

"Pinkie actually," Dash followed after me.

'Damn. I don't have time for this.' I knew I could escape--easily. In the arrow suit. Doing it now, however, would butcher my cover.

Rainbow grabbed my shoulder, stopping me. "What do I need to say? We're desperate. competition's coming up and AJ quit because of harvest."

"I can't afford to," I admitted, hoping she'd leave me alone, "I can't do it and pay rent, alright?"

"Rent?" Rainbow cocked and eyebrow, "Dude, you're in high school don't you live at home?"

"I don't want to talk about it. Besides, I have to be across town in ten minutes and my bikes in the shop for another two weeks." 'Another thing I can't pay for.'

"Oh," Rainbow released her grip, "I'm sorry."

"I don't need your pity! And tell your friend to stop wasting our time!" I stopped, and took a breath, "I'm sorry...I shouldn't have snapped."

An expression of pain crossed her features, "I understand." Rainbow turned to leave, "If you ever get the time I have a spare bow, maybe you could pass on what you know to the newbies?"

Rainbow slipped me a scrap of paper with a very specific set of numbers scrawled across it.

'Wait...' I stared at the paper in disbelief, 'did I just get a girl's phone number?'

"Uh..."

"You want mine?"

Rainbow nodded, "Yeah...let's do it that way."

"Yep," I added my number to the page and passed it back, "less awkward."

Rainbow gave a satisfied, albeit uncomfortable nod and proceeded to leave me alone.

'Finally' I sighed inwardly, pressing my shoulder into the door and bracing for the day ahead.

"Oliver Queen." The principal's voice hit me like a cold knife. (yes I do know what that feels like)

I turned to face her, at this point she was just another stress on top of the pile.

Celestia nodded towards her office.

I groaned, gathered up my bags, and followed her behind the faux wooden door.

By the time I'd crossed the hall Celestia had already sat behind her desk and was wrestling with a few stubborn files, trying to get the drawer closed.

When she heard the door close she snapped back to me.

"Why is the captain of the CC PD asking to interrogate my students?"

"I don't know, alright. Maybe you should ask him, or," I slammed my hand onto her desk, making a satisfying BANG! "Here's a novel idea you could ask his daughter!"

"Oliver, are you okay," Celestia asked, shocked or on the brink of tears I didn't care which.

"I don't need your pity!"

'Need or deserve? They're distinctly different things.'

'Both. And you know it, so why don't you just piss off'

'You really think you don't need help. That's a laugh!'

'Why don't you just shut the hell up!'

"I have to get across town," I turned to leave, tripping over myself in the process.

"Oliver, are you high," Celestia asked, offering a hand.

"I'm fine!" I refused her offer and failed prying myself off the floor.

"Oliver, this is a safe place, I can get you the help you need. Nobody's going to judge you."

"I... haven't slept in three days," I admitted, my eyes closing on their own.

"Wh...why?"

"I haven't had the time, princess..." I shook myself awake, ignoring the shifting color in the walls. "I'm late for work." I pushed myself up, grabbing my bags. "So if there's nothing else, I'll be on my way."

Celestia stepped between me and the door. "I can't let you do that. Oliver, you're destroying yourself."

"In an ideal world, princess, none of us would have to pay rent.

Celestia pulled something from her purse, but my eyes slithered over to the bookshelves lining the room. There was a little bit of everything: medical, philosophical, occult, an octopus...no, nevermind, biological, astrophysical, even fiction.

---

I woke up in the backseat of a high end town car.

"Oliver, I don't want to see you at school tomorrow, understand?" Celestia glared at me in the rear-view mirror. "And I called the Cakes you're taking the next three days off. Get some sleep."

"I.." 'Tell her you're the arrow, maybe you'll feel better. my gaze drifted out the window, "How'd you know where I live?"

"I care for my students Oliver," Celestia smiled at me, "Besides I put in a bit for the place myself."

Contingency Corner. A huge manor on the outskirts of the city loomed before us, Powerful and absolute, it made its presence known through dark stone masonry and castle-like facades. A pair of rounded towers, like bookends, dictated the beginning and ending of the building.

There were a couple of out-buildings but I didn't have any need of them. They sat empty, patiently awaiting their new purpose.

"I guess that's why the rent's so much..." My head hit the seat and I was out like a light.

Author's Note:

The explanation of Communism is bad, okay I get it. That's just how I understand it.