Saving Starling City
Oliver Queen was reluctant to admit it, but he was concerned. In all of his careful planning for what would happen when he returned home, he had never anticipated this. Someone called the Streak was already acting as a vigilante in Oliver’s city. It left him deeply troubled. This did not fit into Oliver’s carefully laid schemes. Of course Oliver knew that even the best laid plans often went awry, but this was beyond a kink or a small bump in the operation, this was a different beast altogether.
It was only his first day back in Starling City, and already his sister had thrown a wrench in his plans without even knowing it.
Thea and her friend came thundering down the hallway, and though the sight made Oliver’s heart leap with fond joy, he was already constructing an excuse in his mind, recognizing the eager excitement in Thea’s eyes. However all need for excuses flew right by him with Thea.
Curious, Oliver turned and called out to her, the trademark “Oliver Queen grin” firmly in place on his lips.
“Hey Speedy, where are you off to?”
Both Thea and the girl she was with paused, and Oliver watched the conflicted emotions fly across his younger sister’s face, clearly struggling to find an excuse that would suffice for the brother she hadn’t seen in years.
However her friend answered for the both of them, the excitement evident in her bright eyes and flushed cheeks.
“We’re going Streak spotting, so we really have to go!”
“Maddison!” Thea hissed in clear irritation, glancing at Oliver, who frowned.
“What is ‘streak spotting’?” He asked warily, uncertain whether he really wanted to know the answer, especially since he highly doubted anything he said or did - short of tying Thea up - would keep her from doing whatever it was she wanted to do. “Please tell me it has nothing to do with streaking.”
“No!” Thea cried, and took a deep breath. “The Streak is this...well no one really knows what it is. Some people think it’s a person, but no one is really sure. It’s just this...red streak that’s been saving people around Starling City for a little over a year now.”
Oliver’s eyebrows were practically climbing into his hairline by now, and Thea flushed, clearly thinking her castaway brother thought she was the crazy one in the family. “It’s real! A bunch of us go onto some roofs in the city and we’ve seen it a few times.” Her friend began tugging on her arm, trying to drag her to the door, while Oliver’s thoughts were racing.
“Just...be safe,” he called distantly to the girls’ retreating backs, though the warning was given out of rote more than anything. He was still too busy trying to parse through Thea’s explanation. Unlike Thea, who seemed to be skeptical of the Streak as a person, Oliver had little doubt that was exactly what the Streak was. He also knew what it meant.
Starling City already had a vigilante.
Hours later, Oliver still wasn’t any closer to sorting through the mystery that was this red streak. He hadn’t been able to sneak off to do any research, so instead he had elected to casually question his mother, Walter, and Tommy about the vigilante over dinner. Each of them had their own opinions on the matter, all of them interesting, but none of them giving Oliver any sort of headway.
Walter didn’t believe in the Streak at all; according to him, the first person ever reporting to be saved by a red blur of light had been a drunken raving lunatic. Oliver’s stepfather theorized that over the past year people began clinging onto the Streak as an ideal, not an actuality. Walter seemed to think the Streak was becoming synonymous for the unexplainable, not a real person or thing that actually saved people.
Moira seemed completely uninterested and dismissive of the Streak altogether. While she believed in the existence of a Streak, unlike her husband, she thought it was pointless endeavor, a single man deciding to think himself some sort of hero and fight petty crime as if he made any sort of difference.
Though Tommy treated the matter as if it was a joke, he seemed to have more opinions on the Streak than anyone else at the table. He disguised his well thought out analysis of the Streak and his potential motives with crude humor about the choice of name and the act of the red blur “streaking” through Starling City to fight crime. Oliver resolved to press Tommy for more details and questions later.
He didn’t even know who - or what - the Streak was. Whatever it was, it was fast, superhumanly so. It seemed almost beyond the realm of possibility, but Oliver had seen many impossible things over the past five years. Oliver was willing to accept that whoever or whatever the Streak was had some sort of supernatural speed, but how? Was it the Mirakuru, or some version of it?
The mere thought of that cursed serum sent a shiver running down Oliver’s spine. The idea of anyone running around with that in their veins was chilling; whether or not the Streak was doing any good in the city was irrelevant. The road to hell was paved with good intentions after all.
Now Oliver had another mystery on his hands, one that could undermine everything, depending on the answers he uncovered. Should Oliver approach the Streak? Who should he approach him as? Should he try to work with the Streak?
Almost immediately he rejected that idea. There were too many unknown variables, too many things that could go wrong. No, Oliver would be careful, he would stick to the plan. He couldn’t afford to deviate from it, there was far too much at stake.
He was suspicious of the Streak and he knew he wasn’t the only one. Maybe another city would open the Streak with open arms, but Starling City was cut from a different cloth. It wasn’t Central City, a smaller, younger city with less of a sharp contrast between the socioeconomic classes. Nor was it Gotham, a city in which the poisonous underbelly had risen and corrupted the city so thoroughly, the citizens - driven by fear - looked to the Batman rather than the public servants that swore to protect them within the confines of the law.
Starling City would not be the sort of city to warmly welcome someone that wanted to play hero. That was what made Oliver different; he was what Starling City needed. It was not simply his own arrogance speaking, but certainty. He would save the city, but he was not going to save it by acting like a hero. That had never been Oliver’s intention. He would fulfill his promise to his father to save the city, but Oliver had never promised to be a hero.
The things he would have to do for the sake of saving Starling would be the very actions a hero tried to stop. If the Streak considered himself a hero, the two would be on opposite sides. Though Oliver was confident in his abilities he was weary of making an enemy that had a similar goal, especially one he knew precious little about.
Growling in frustration, Oliver finally stopped pacing the length of his bedroom and yanked back his desk chair, sitting down and booting up the computer that had remained untouched for five years. Evidently Internet Explorer hadn’t improved in Oliver’s time away either. Finally the search page loaded, and Oliver’s fingers hovered over the keyboard, almost apprehensively, before he typed in “Starling City Streak”.
Almost immediately his screen was full of links leading to supposed Streak sightings, conspiracy theories, and articles about the strange phenomenon that had made itself known in Starling City. Groaning, Oliver rubbed at his eyes. It appeared he was going to have a long night ahead of him, if he truly expected to be able to figure out who the Streak was, or at least more information than he had gleaned out of the people he had already talked to.
Clicking on the blog dedicated to strange happenstances run by some conspiracy theorist in Central City, Oliver cracked his knuckles and focused on the bright screen, determined to learn all he could about the red blur that had been saving Starling City.
"Hey Barry, have you heard the news?”
Barry Allen looked up from his microscope and grinned as Detective Eddie Thawne strode through the doors to the lab, waving around what looked like a newspaper. Their friendship befuddled most of the office, but both of them had been new to the Starling City Police Department - Eddie coming from Keystone, Barry arriving from Central City - and had quickly bonded, adapting the typical “new kid pack mentality” as Barry coined it. Adding to that Eddie’s easy-going nature and unwavering moral compass with Barry’s positivity and eagerness, their friendship went far beyond being in a similar social position. And since moving to Starling City, Eddie had become privy to quite a few of Barry’s secrets, which had only served to strengthen their friendship. At this point Barry considered Eddie one of his two best friends, which meant he easily picked up on the teasing tone in the detective’s voice.
“Did Hall finally stop calling you Detective Pretty Boy?” Barry asked jokingly. Eddie halted, frowning in confusion.
“Does she really call me that?” Barry’s eyes widened and he immediately began stumbling over his words, trying desperately to recover. He honestly thought Eddie knew Hall had dubbed him that; after all practically the entire precinct referred to Eddie by that particular nickname.
“At least it’s better than lab rat.” Barry offered, and Eddie smiled at him, rolling his eyes.
“Well no that’s not what I was talking about.” Eddie reached across Barry and grabbed a remote, pointing it at the television in the lab.
“ - and billionaire Oliver Queen is alive,” a reporter was saying on the television screen and Barry dropped the file he had been holding, sending papers scattering across the floor. Eddie eyed him curiously but Barry ignored him, simply snatching the remote from his friend’s hand and turning the volume up.
“The Starling City resident was found by fishermen in the North China sea five days ago, five years after he was missing and presumed dead following the accident at sea which claimed The Queen's Gambit. Queen was a regular tabloid presence and a fixture at the Starling City club scene. Shortly before his disappearance, he was acquitted of assault charges stemming from a highly publicized drunken altercation with paparazzi. Queen is the son of Starling City billionaire Robert Queen, who was also on board but now officially confirmed as deceased.”
“Wow.” Barry managed to choke out as the news station transitioned to the next segment. “Who would have thought huh?” He laughed weakly. “Talk about the impossible.”
Eddie gave Barry a strange look. “Are you okay Bear? Did you know Queen or something?”
And wouldn’t that have just been so easy? If Barry had known Oliver Queen he would have had a reason for acting like this, or at least a semi-rational one. But Barry had never met the man in his life - until college he hadn’t even left Central City, and just about everyone knew the billionaire heir had flunked out of each one he attended.
“Um no. I’ve never met the guy in my life but uh,” Barry let out an embarrassed combination of a laugh and a cough, “I sort of figured out I was bisexual because of him.” Barry wasn’t the type to read the tabloids ordinarily, but he had grown up with a foster sister that had quite the crush on Oliver Queen, and therefore bought just about every magazine with the slightest mention of the playboy. Barry had taken more than a few glances at said magazines, and had maybe even stolen the poster from Tiger Beat (though Iris could never prove it).
“Really? Oliver Queen?” Eddie didn’t sound judgmental in the least, simply curious and teasing. He leaned across Barry’s desk, tilting his head and glancing at the newspaper in his hands. Barry could see the title and picture splashed across the front page. Oliver Queen, of course. “I mean I can see it, I’m just surprised. I mean when I think of a celebrity crush I tend to think of an actual celebrity.”
Barry rolled his eyes, but secretly he was relieved at how easily Eddie had slipped into a joking tone. Though the detective had already known about Barry’s bisexuality, too many bad experiences had taught Barry to be careful about who he trusted. However Eddie had handled far bigger secrets than what kind of people were involved in Barry’s nonexistent love life.
“I did grow up with a girl. Oliver is the only name we share on our cheat list actually.” He had even been the source of a fight between Barry and Iris, when the latter had figured out that Barry had a celebrity crush on the older billionaire too. Of course the entire thing had been ridiculous since they were fourteen at the time, Oliver Queen was six hundred miles and several years apart from them, and Iris had just discovered that Barry liked boys too. Not to mention the fact that while Oliver Queen was a celebrity crush, Iris West was much more real and much closer to Barry.
“Yeah well who knows? Maybe now you’ll have a shot!” Even though Barry knew Eddie was just poking fun at him, the grin on his face was wide and hopeful. Barry knew Eddie worried about him, worried about his personal life and how he was handling things. It was sweet, honestly, but sometimes it could be a little much.
“Sure Eddie,” Barry said, rolling his eyes with a laugh. “Because the only thing keeping us apart was the fact that I thought he was dead.”
Eddie laughed along with him and shook his head. Barry saw him glancing around, and his stomach tightened in apprehension as Eddie leaned in closer and opened his mouth. While Barry wasn’t positive what Eddie was going to say, he knew what it would be about at the very least. It always set him on edge, discussing that at work, and Barry found himself looking around nervously.
Suddenly the sound of Lady Gaga was filling the lab and Barry dove for his cell phone, grateful that the moment had been broken. Ignoring Eddie’s huff of laughter at his choice in ringtones Barry grimaced at the caller I.D. an answered.
“It’s Allen.”
Almost immediately Detective Lance’s gruff voice was snapping at him through the phone and Barry winced. With a flick of his wrist he was able to check his watch and gauge just how late to the crime scene he was.
“I’ll be right there sir.” Barry was already grabbing his coat and case. Spinning in a circle his eyes darted around the lab, looking for his badge. Thankfully Eddie had already spotted it and held it out for Barry with a look of fond amusement.
“Sorry Eddie but I’ve got to go. I’m late for meeting Lance and Hilton at a scene.”
Of all the detectives to be late for, it had to be one of the grumpiest in the whole precinct.
“Say hello to Oliver Queen for me if you get a chance!” Eddie’s teasing voice followed Barry as he made his way out of the lab. He just laughed and shook his head at his friend. Honestly, he was more likely to get struck by lightning than he was to speak to the not dead billionaire today.
If looks could kill, Oliver would be dead three times over. He couldn’t blame Lance - he was the reason the man’s family fell apart after all. If he could go back in time and make sure Sara never climbed on the Queen’s Gambit he would. Unfortunately there was nothing he could do to change the past. He could only try to atone for it in the future.
However Quentin Lance was the least likely person to ever offer him any sort of atonement.
Oliver had known he would be dealing with the police sooner or later. He hadn’t anticipated it would be this particular member of the force, let alone so soon, but he knew he had to play the hand he had been dealt.
The wildcard kid was unexpected however.
Oliver still wasn’t sure who this kid was, and it didn’t look like Lance was going to stop glaring at him long enough to explain the presence of the kid fidgeting beside him on the couch. Thankfully his partner seemed to have picked up on Oliver’s curious glances.
“Mr. Queen, this is one of the CSI assistants, Barry Allen.” He made a sweeping gesture towards the young man who looked like he should still be fighting acne and figuring how to sneak booze into his dorm room. Barry started and suddenly grinned at Oliver, a flush rising on his neck. Oliver was momentarily taken aback at just how bright the smile actually was. He had been on the receiving end of a fair share of smiles since his return from the “dead”, but none had seemed quite as warm as the beam the kid seemed to be giving him.
Puzzling, considering that Oliver’s own family members were included in those that had sent bright smiles their way.
“Nice to meet you Mr. Queen. I’m glad you’re not dead.”
Oliver let out a surprised bark of laughter, both at the blunt honesty of the statement, and at the mortified expression the kid wore when he realized just what he had said. Detective Hilton just looked exasperated, but Lance shifted his fierce glare from Oliver to scowl at the young man in irritation.
“This is our CSI assistant, Bart Allen.”
The young man in question coughed, color rising to his cheeks. “Um, it’s Barry actually. Barry Allen.”
Oliver’s eyebrow quirked upward. “I wasn’t aware that CSI were typically called upon for cases like this. There’s not exactly a lot of evidence to be examined.” Though Oliver had detected no close relationship between Detective Lance and Barry - the older man had gotten the assistant’s name wrong - Lance practically growled defensively while Allen’s grin grew wider.
“I was on a case with Detective Lance and Detective Hilton,” Barry responded amicably. “I was just finishing up when the call came in.”
The answer was calm, yet the man’s very presence unnerved Oliver. He was another unknown variable, someone Oliver had not considered meeting yet. Barry Allen was young, ridiculously so, he had to be fresh out of college - but Oliver could tell he was smart. Barry’s eyes were sharp and attentive. Oliver could see him carefully taking in his surroundings, analyzing each detail, yet unless he was a talented enough actor to fool even Oliver, Barry wasn’t suspicious. That was simply how the young CSI saw the world, which had the potential to make him very dangerous to Oliver.
Not to mention, despite the dangers and high crime rates in Starling City, it wasn’t exactly hurting for people to join the police force, and forensic science was an increasingly lucrative career, or so Oliver had been told. For Barry to have been hired by Starling City at such a young age meant that he was probably brilliant or driven. Or both.
“Alright now we all know each other. Fantastic. Let’s get to the point of this little soiree, shall we?” Surprisingly enough Oliver almost had to hold back a laugh when he caught Barry rolling his eyes at Detective Lance. That was the second time Barry Allen had almost made Oliver laugh. The second time anyone had made Oliver genuinely want to laugh since returning from the island.
And from the shy, but slightly pleased look on Allen’s face, Oliver’s suppressed laugh hadn’t gone unnoticed.
“Tommy and I were grabbed by some men, we don’t know who. We were down in the Glades, and both of us were knocked out. I started waking up before Tommy did, and they interrogated me, asking about my father and the shipwreck. Then suddenly some guy just flew in and took them out.”
It was as if somehow Oliver held a hot iron to everyone’s back. There was a sharp inhalation of breath from Moira and Walter and he could feel them exchange a glance over his head, while Lance and Hilton didn’t even bother trying to hide their nonverbal communication.
Barry however, suddenly sat up straight, his green eyes even brighter and more attentive. Oliver suddenly was overcome with the urge to squirm under the careful scrutinization, unnerved by the uncharacteristic reaction in himself.
“Was it the Streak?” Hilton asked carefully, clearly trying not give any sort of credence to the Starling City mystery, but determined to get to the bottom of the suddenly interesting case they had been presented with.
“No.” Oliver said, shaking his head. “I could definitely see this guy, and there was no red. He was wearing a hood.”
Lance snorted. “Great, that’s the last thing we need,” he muttered. “Another freak show cosplayer who decides it’s his job to go around saving people.”
Beside Oliver, Moira glared. The interview continued until his mother insisted the police leave, clearly fed up with Lance’s passive aggression towards Oliver. Hilton gave Oliver an apologetic glance as they left, which Oliver quickly dismissed with an easy grin, while Barry continued to stare at him curiously with sharp green eyes, before finally breaking into a wide smile himself, surprising Oliver with just how bright it was.
“It was good to meet you Mr. Queen.”
A smile - a real one - found its way to Oliver’s lips as well as he shook the younger man’s hand, noting just how warm he was.
“Call me Oliver.”
Barry’s smile became impossibly wider and brighter, before Lance was barking at him to move along, and he was hurrying out to the police cruiser, stumbling over his long legs. Oliver pretended he didn’t watch the other man for longer than fully appropriate, before turning back to his mother and stepfather.
Later that night, as Oliver reflected on the sensation of being carefully watched by those brilliant green eyes, he came to the conclusion that yes, Barry Allen was going to prove to be very dangerous.
In more ways than one.
“Maybe I have superpowers too.”
Barry couldn’t help but snort in amusement at both Eddie’s statement and the look of absolute shock he was wearing.
“Get struck by any lightning lately?”
Eddie let out a small huff of laughter. “Maybe I did. How else would you explain my new psychic abilities?” Eddie’s face suddenly broke into a wicked grin, a new thought clearly occurring to him, leaving him with an expression that made Barry’s stomach sink with dread. “So was he just as attractive as you always imagined? Just as swoon worthy?”
Barry shot Eddie a glare without any real heat. “I was a little more concerned with doing my job,” Barry sniffed, affecting a haughty tone. He knew Eddie would see right through it - after all, Barry was practically legendary for his ability to be distracted. He was brilliant, yes, but his sense of focus often left something to be desired.
Remembering the conversation - interrogation really - with Oliver Queen, Barry’s smile faded. “He said they were saved by a vigilante.”
Eddie’s eyes widened and he leaned forward. “They were saved by the Streak? Did he recognize you?” Barry shook his head.
“Eddie it wasn’t me. Oliver said it was some guy in a hood.”
The detective looked stricken. “Wait, like the psycho that was putting arrows in Adam Hunt’s people? There’s another vigilante running around?” Barry slumped forward and nodded. He had conflicting opinions on this new development. On one hand Starling was a dangerous city. Barry knew he wasn’t the only person who wanted to help, and admittedly he was already stretched thin.
However this...hood guy, he was an unknown. Sure, Barry was an unknown to most of Starling City too, but he had people in his corner, and he tried to avoid hurting people - even criminals - whenever possible. Barry had certainly never killed anyone.
But this guy in a hood had stuck arrows through people without so much as a second thought.
Barry knew Starling was a darker city than the one he had grown up in. Barry knew that. As much as he had been teased for being naive by his own family and friends, he really wasn’t. Though Barry was a positive person with an optimistic personality, he was well aware of the dark shadows that lingered in the world. He faced them every day, both in his illegal nighttime career and his paying job. Every day Barry made his way to crime scenes and was expected to figure out how the crime occurred. Barry had minored in psychology in college, to allow himself to try and get inside a criminal’s head and figure out how one pulled off whatever crime Barry was dealing with. Every day Barry went to some of the darkest places in the city and in his own mind, all in the pursuit of good and justice. He had seen awful, traumatizing things, and in the back of his mind, the most traumatizing memory of all still lingered.
But killing wasn’t the answer. Of course Barry was frustrated by the apparent lack of progress at times, but all he could do was what he did every night. Yes, Barry knew he was fighting only symptoms, not the root of the problems in Starling, but when the root of the problem was humanity itself, fighting the symptoms was all that could be done. How could Barry destroy another human life intentionally for the sake of justice, when he couldn’t accurately state what justice really was?
He worked for the police, trying to solve crimes and find “justice”. But the police had put away Henry Allen, an innocent man, and called that justice. Barry found evidence and found criminals and they were brought to “justice”, but if he ever revealed himself as the Streak, the vigilante that was stopping crimes and saving people in Starling City, he would be arrested, because that was “justice”.
It was complicated and messy, and Barry never wanted to think about it too deeply, but it was important that he did. Because now there was a new vigilante in Starling City, one who’s idea of justice was sticking an arrow through people.
“What should we do Bear?”
Barry was drawn out of his thoughts by Eddie’s question, and he sighed. He didn’t know what to do. It seemed that Barry never knew the important answers. Sure, he could answer questions in school, recite facts, memorize the periodic table, but the hardest answers to find always seemed to go hand in hand with the simplest questions.
“We wait.” Barry finally said decisively, ignoring the incredulous look on Eddie’s face. “We wait, and we watch, and we proceed very carefully, because whoever this guy is, he’s probably already watching us, or at least watching the Streak.”
“Bear, whoever this guy is, he’s bad news. Look I hate Adam Hunt as much as the next guy, but this “Hood” character, or whatever it is they’re calling him, can’t just go around killing people to get to criminals!”
Barry let out another sigh. He knew Eddie wouldn’t like the tentative plan he had formed, but it was all he had.
“I know Eddie. I’m not suggesting I team up with him or anything, but right now we hardly know anything about the guy, other than he’s extremely dangerous, and probably highly trained. But this guy probably knows as much about me as the public does, maybe more. Even if all he knows is conjecture, that’s over a year’s worth from a lot of different people, some of them highly intelligent. Those aren’t great odds.”
“And what are you planning to do once you stop waiting Barry?” Barry knew Eddie well enough to detect the concern phrased as an accusation. “Because you decided to be a hero and put away criminals, and I support you on that, but it looks like this guy is already a pretty big criminal. So when you’re done with this whole waiting game, what are you going to do?”
“I’m going to talk to him.” Barry steadfastly ignored the protest that immediately rose to Eddie’s lips, and he held up his hand in an effort to make the detective listen to him. “Look Eddie, what I do at night? Yeah I’m being a hero, but I’m breaking the law to do it. I’m a vigilante too and you know that. I know I don’t go around murdering people, but I’m not exactly staying within the law myself. The least I can do is talk to him first.”
Barry could tell that his friend didn’t like it, but he was determined to at least talk to this new vigilante before doing anything rash. The last thing Starling City needed was some sort of pissing contest between two men who likely just wanted the same thing, albeit in different ways. Saving Starling was what mattered, not who did the saving.
However, while Barry was willing to give this Hood guy a chance, like Eddie, Barry didn’t agree that sticking arrows through other people for anything other than self defense counted as “saving” anyone.
“I don’t agree with you here Bear, and I think this is a terrible idea. But I’ll support you, as long as I think you’re doing the right thing.” Barry nodded in appreciation. It wasn’t great, but it was far more than he expected. Eddie had a very strong sense of right and wrong, and his displeasure at the new situation wasn’t surprising to him. Barry had strong morals as well, but he was hopeful, far more than most, and always tried to see the good in people. Unfortunately, he worried that sometimes he sacrificed his own moral compass, trying to reach that good in someone.
Sighing, Eddie smiled, and although it was smaller and dimmer than usual, Barry didn’t comment on it. “C’mon. Let’s go grab a Big Belly Breakfast Burger. It looks like I’ll be losing a bet to McKenna soon enough.”
Barry frowned in curiosity. “What bet?”
This time Eddie’s grin was wide and practically wicked. “She bet you would get laid within the next year. I told her it would be at least two.”
Almost immediately the tension between the two men dissipated as Barry began spluttering indignantly, following Eddie to the car.