Pulling the Puzzle Apart

“It’s not the Hood.”

Eddie hadn’t spoken yet, but Barry had grown accustomed to hearing his friend’s footsteps. Besides, he was one of the few that actually bothered to knock on the door to the lab. When he turned around, he saw the detective raising his eyebrows.

“Okay. Not that I don’t believe you or anything, but the rest of the precinct thinks it’s him. Want to tell me why you think it’s not?”

Barry rolled his eyes, catching what Eddie was hinting at.

“I don’t know because of...Streak stuff,” he glanced around nervously when he said it, “But the perp used a bullet laced with curare. Setting aside the fact that the Hood has never used firearms before, curare is extremely rare and deadly. It’s also the calling card of a mercenary known as Deadshot.”

Eddie frowned, and leaned over Barry’s shoulder, looking at his results. “Huh. You know who else doesn’t believe it was the Hood?”

Barry tilted his head to the side curiously, the question written in his eyes.

“Detective Lance.”

Barry swiveled in his rolling chair so quickly that he accidentally kicked Eddie, who winced and doubled over.

“Sorry - crap I’m - but wait, Lance doesn’t think it’s the Hood?”

He cringed as Eddie hobbled over to a spare chair and sat down.

“No, he’s pretty dead set that it’s not the Hood for once.”

Barry leaned back in surprise. “Wow. I mean everyone knows that Lance has a huge grudge against the guy, I’d have thought for sure he would try to pin just about anything on the Hood.”

Eddie shrugged. “Well I mean he’s not the nicest guy in the world, but he is a good detective for a reason Bear.”

The detective had a point, but Barry just shrugged. Lance wasn’t horrible, but he certainly wasn’t Barry’s favorite person in the world.

“But speaking of Lance, I actually came up to tell you that he wanted you. Apparently Thea Queen got arrested last night and needs an escort home.”

Barry frowned. “Wait, I’m needed as an escort? Why? That’s...that’s literally the furthest thing from my job description.”

Eddie snorted. “Yeah no kidding. But the Queens aren’t exactly fond of the police and vice versa.”

“Exactly, so what I’m supposed to be some sort of happy medium?”

The blonde shrugged. “Something like that. But you hit it off pretty well with Oliver Queen remember? Who’s to say you can’t do the same with his little sister?”

The brunette stuck his tongue out. “When do I have to leave?”

"He wants you down there in the next five minutes, so mentally prepare yourself."

Barry pulled a face, but there was truth in Eddie's warning. Lance didn't seem to like anyone other than his daughter, and since Barry was not only a lab rat, but a lab rat that had gone on one - and only one - date with said daughter, and had made friends with Lance's mortal enemy, the older detective wasn't exactly fond of Barry. Frankly Barry thought the whole thing was rather dramatic, but he didn't really need specific reasons to go out of his way to avoid the grumpy man.

"By the way, Joanna texted me. She's making Laurel go out and have some fun tonight, and she expects me to do the same with you."

"What - Eddie no. C'mon, no!" Barry protested, but Eddie was just smirking at him.

"Nope, you're not getting out of this one man. You and I are going to join the girls. We're going to go clubbing!" Barry groaned, and covered his face with his hands. "What's the matter? You're a fantastic dancer Barry! I don't understand why you never want to go clubbing."

"Because that makes me sound like a nineteen year old and it's already hard enough to convince people I can legally drink?" Barry protested, waving his hand for emphasis. "I mean dancing alone in my room is one thing, but dancing in public? In a club? Not my style Eddie."

"Well too bad, because we're going. You and Laurel are going to have a good time."

"I can't, I've got Streak stuff," Barry lied, clinging desperately at straws. "I promised Cisco I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"No you don't. Besides, Cisco is meeting up with Caitlin for drinks tonight." Barry winced, both at being caught in the lie, and finding out what Cisco's plans were. If Caitlin was included in them, that meant Barry could definitely not use Cisco as an excuse. Unfortunately his only other friends in Starling City were the ones currently trying to get him to go out.

"Can't we just go out and get coffee instead? That's fun."

Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Bear, we get coffee all the time. We're doing something different and fun. Trust me, you're going to have a blast. It's going to be great, I promise!"

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Barry muttered unhappily, under his breath. Eddie just smiled even wider. "Fine! Fine, I promise I'll go, but I also promise I won't like it."

Eddie stood up to leave, and Barry sighed, gathering his stuff and grabbing his satchel. Eddie had just made it to the door of the lab when he turned, a wicked grin playing on his face.

“But back to Thea Queen, I think you’re the one who’s closest in age to Thea. You two should have plenty to talk about.”

“I’m twenty-three!” Barry called out indignantly, but Eddie was already walking away, and the passing officers just laughed while Barry groaned. Sighing, he pulled on his coat and made his way down the stairs and headed toward where Detective Lance was standing. Peering around his friend’s father slightly, he saw Thea Queen slumped in a chair, a bored expression on her face.

“Christ, I thought you were getting us help babysitting Queen, not another kid to babysit!” One of the officers next to Lance protested, and Barry rolled his eyes. He didn’t mind so much when Eddie teased him about his so-called “baby face”, but it got pretty old coming from the rest of the precinct. At least with Eddie, Barry knew he was respected for what he could do as a scientist. As far as the rest of the police force was concerned, he was just a lab rat that looked like he ran away from his parents to play cop.

“Shut it Rutherford. The Queens already give us enough grief,”

“Gee, I wonder why.” Thea muttered sarcastically, and Lance rolled his eyes, but Barry had to cover his smirk with his hand.

“Allen managed to get on their good side somehow. Taking him will make it easier.”

“You do know this isn’t my job, right?” Barry asked idly, fidgeting uncomfortably when all the attention in the room turned to him. “I’m the one that’s supposed to be running ballistics, and blood, all the science stuff? Dropping people off isn’t really what I was hired for.”

“Just go with them Allen, and try not to be late coming back.”

With that Lance stalked off, muttering something about college kids, and Barry rolled his eyes, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Well, I suppose we’d better bring you home then Ms. Queen.”

“Can’t wait.” She rose from the chair and flounced off after Rutherford. Barry sighed and raised his eyes heavenward. Already this was turning into an extremely long morning. At least he might get to see Oliver.

Barry tried to ignore how his heart jumped at the thought, and just groaned inwardly.

Oliver had wandered away under the guise of getting a drink, however in all honesty he was just trying to escape the awkwardness. Thea hadn't told him anything he didn't know. He may have flunked out of four colleges, but he had never been stupid. After five years quite literally fighting for his life, he was more attentive than ever. He had known about Laurel and Tommy practically as soon as he arrived home. Still, the confirmation hurt.

Just as Oliver was taking a deep breath to steady himself, someone stumbled into him.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry, I wasn't paying attention!" Barry was babbling, but Oliver didn't care. Somehow just the sight of the other man brought a smile to his face. He had caught a glimpse of him earlier that day, when he had accompanied the officers that brought Thea home, but he hadn't been able to do much other than give Barry a nod of acknowledgement.

"Barry, hey."

The scientist's green eyes widened as he realized who he had stumbled into. "Oliver! I didn't even see you there. Did I spill anything on you?"

Oliver chuckled slightly and shook his head. "No, you're good. Barry, are you drunk?" He couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice as he took in Barry's appearance, but he was still slightly concerned. Of course, Barry was an adult and could take care of himself, but Oliver knew firsthand what alcohol could do to someone if they weren't monitoring their intake.

However Barry seemed to find the question funny, and burst into laughter.

"No, I am most definitely not drunk. I may look like a lightweight, but I can handle my liquor pretty well." Barry's eyes were sparkling with a mischief that hinted at something he wasn't telling Oliver, but he couldn't even bring himself to be too curious, when he was on the receiving end of a gaze like that. "Unfortunately my clumsiness is all natural. So what are you doing here?"

"I'm opening a nightclub," Oliver said, his voice raised so that Barry could hear him over the din. "Tommy decided to bring me here to check out the competition. What about you? Is this your typical hangout spot?"

Barry scoffed and rolled his eyes, causing Oliver to grin.

"Not hardly. But Laurel's friend was insisting that she have some fun, so Laurel decided to make me come along too. And then she texted Eddie, and long story short, my friends decided Netflix no longer counts as having a social life anymore."

Oliver chuckled, however it was slightly hollow. Laurel and Eddie? Oliver wondered just how close they were to Barry, to make him come out to a nightclub when it wasn't his typical scene.

Barry opened his mouth to say something else, however he was interrupted by another familiar - and much less pleasant voice coming from behind Oliver.

"Well look at this. Oliver Queen."

Oliver closed his eyes, and when he opened them, he caught a glimpse of Barry looking at him strangely. He turned and forced a smile on his face.

"Max Fuller. How have you been?"

The club owner gave Oliver a cold smile, and he mentally braced himself for the inevitable pain and humiliation. He only wished it didn't have to happen in front of Barry, but he doubted he would be that lucky.

"Happy you drowned." Suddenly his arms were being grabbed by two of the bouncers, and Oliver gritted his teeth. He could break out of the hold easily enough, but not without raising some serious questions.

"Hey! Hey, what are you doing?" Barry was protesting, and when Oliver twisted to see what was happening, his blood ran hot when he watched a third bouncer wrap his hands around Barry's arms in a bruising grip.

"C'mon Max, let him go, he's not doing anything!" Unfortunately Oliver's objections fell on deaf ears, and Fuller's men dragged them back to one of the private rooms.  

Oliver glanced around. It was spacious, with several couches lining the walls. Instead of a door, curtains sequestered the room from the main area of the club. He was looking for anything to help, but he knew if he didn't want to give himself away he was going to have to just take the punches. Oliver could handle that, but he wasn't about to let Barry get dragged into this fight.

"Woah, what's going on here?" Tommy ducked behind the curtains and joined them, glancing from Oliver and Barry to Max and his bouncers. "Let him go. Hey! I said let him go!"

Fuller just rolled his eyes. "Back off Merlyn, this isn't your problem."

"Told you he was going to be pissed." Oliver muttered underneath his breath, and Tommy sighed.

"Look, if you want Oliver, you're going to have to go through me."

"Pretty sure that's exactly what they're planning on doing Merlyn," Barry snorted, and despite the situation, Oliver had to swallow down the urge to chuckle. Tommy turned to glare at the forensic scientist, and that was exactly when the bouncers struck.

The burly man to Oliver's right sent him sprawling to the ground with a well placed punch, and he let out a groan, scrambling to his feet and sending a punch flying, purposefully making some amateur mistakes. He was still cognizant of Barry in the room, and he knew how observant the younger man was. Oliver knew he still needed to cast suspicion on himself, and fairly soon. He couldn't give the other man any other reason to continue to suspect him after he was proven to be innocent.

Speaking of Barry, the scientist seemed to be doing alright on his own, dodging the punches thrown his way with a surprising amount of speed. Oliver paused for a moment, concern growing in the pit of his stomach. Just why was Barry so adept at ducking?

That moment of distraction cost him, and another fist connected with his jaw.

"Hey, stop it!" Barry cried out, and rage boiled in Oliver's veins when one of the bouncers finally landed a hit on Barry, and sent the lanky man to the ground with a groan.

"Hey!" Oliver turned around, and suddenly two more people had entered the room. Oliver watched with surprise as Laurel punched at kicked at Max, sending him toppling. A blonde man he didn't recognize had followed, and widened his eyes, hurrying over to Barry.

"Knock it off, now!" He called angrily, and Max sneered as he scrambled to his feet.

"Or what?"

"Or I'll have you arrested for assaulting part of the police force." He reached in his pants pocket and showed his badge, and Max gnashed his teeth.

"Out. All of you out. You're all banned for life!" He turned on his heel and marched off, leaving the five of them alone in the room. Laurel sent Oliver a glare, before shaking her head and stalking off.

Tommy glanced at Oliver, an apology clearly written on his face, but Oliver just shook his head. "Tommy, I already told you. It's okay. Go after her." Tommy lingered for a moment, but his eyes drifted over to Barry and hardened. It seemed to spurn him forward, and after nodding, he hurried after Oliver's ex-girlfriend.

"Are you okay?" Oliver turned, glancing back at Barry, and his stomach gave a painful lurch. The blonde detective was standing with one hand on Barry's upper back, the other cupping his chin, examining the blood at the corner of his swollen lip.

"Shit, Barry I'm sorry." Oliver moved closer, running a hand through his hair. "I knew better than to come here. There's bad blood between Max Fuller and I. I never meant for you to get dragged into this."

"Don't worry about it Oliver," Barry said with a grin, still managing to beam like the son, even with a busted lip. "I heal pretty quickly." Beside him the blonde chuckled, and Barry looked surprised.

"Oh right, Oliver this is Eddie Thawne. He's a friend of mine at the precinct. And Eddie, this is Oliver Queen."

Oliver's stomach clenched tightly. Were they just friends? He pushed the thought away viciously. It didn't matter if they were or if they weren't. It wasn't any of his business, and he had enough going on in his life. There were his lingering few feelings for Laurel, and his nighttime endeavors to consider.

But that didn’t mean the thought of Barry being with Eddie didn’t make him want to punch something.

“Trust me, I’ve heard all about you Mr. Queen.”

Oliver repressed a sigh, and plastered a fake smile on his face. Of course, Eddie had heard all about his escapades in the past.

“Okay, I think that’s enough from Eddie.” Barry was bright red, and glaring at his friend. Oliver’s lips quirked into a slight smile, genuine this time. It was kind of adorable, not that Oliver would ever admit to that. “We should probably get going. We both have work tomorrow.”

Oliver was disappointed, but he nodded. “Of course. Again, I’m sorry you got hurt in the crossfire. I’ll be seeing you around I’m sure.” Without waiting for a response, he ducked out of the room, taking a deep breath, before letting his eyes travel around the room, looking for Tommy and Diggle. It was time to get refocused.

"Barry are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No," Barry answered honestly, ducking behind the corner of a hallway when he saw someone approaching. "I think this is an awful idea, but I have to do something to help."

"Man, you work for the police, and when you're not solving cases being a scientist, you're running around this whole city. Maybe you should take the night off, let the Hood dude handle this one."

Barry sighed. Cisco had a good point, and he couldn't really dispute it. This was out of character for Barry, out of character for the Streak. He saved people from buildings, helped put out fires...things like that. Tonight though, he was lingering around an auction for the most elite of Starling City. Something was going to happen tonight, something bad, and it was all centered around Unidac Industries. As far as Barry - and the police - knew, there was a very real possibility that someone could get hurt.

However the Hood knew even more than that, which was the real reason why Barry was here. Of course he wanted to save people, but the wealthy elite rarely needed his help. The Hood had far more experience with them than Barry did, though he didn't really think the Hood was a great friend to many of them.

But questionable methods aside, the Hood was more proactive than the Streak was, and he was several steps ahead of Barry. Even though Lance hadn't admitted to it, Barry knew the Hood was the one that had tipped Lance off about the party. The Hood knew more than he was sharing, and Barry fully intended to find out what that was.

He had decided to meet with the Hood, though he still wasn't sure when he was going to approach him. Both Eddie and Cisco had their own opinions on that, but Barry had already decided. He was going to run into the Hood at one point or another, and it was better that they meet before it was a life or death scenario. Then again, knowing Starling City, that was a very real possibility.

Barry sighed, and dragged his hand down his face. He wouldn't trade being the Streak for anything - though he certainly wouldn't mind having a better name - but it left him exhausted. Between his day job, running circles around Starling City, and being a guinea pig for whatever tests Cisco had to run, he was growing increasingly tired. He half wondered if he would be able to figure out who the Hood was in a few months based on who was wandering around like a mindless zombie.

"See your boyfriend anywhere Bear?"

Barry sighed loudly and rolled his eyes. He knew Cisco wouldn't be able to see it, but he was fairly sure the engineer knew exactly what Barry was doing. They had spent enough time working together to pick up on one another's mannerisms.

"Oliver Queen is not my boyfriend Cisco," He muttered under his breath.

"That's funny, because I didn't say anything about Oliver Queen."

Barry groaned out loud at the sound of delight in Cisco's voice. Now that Barry was thinking about it, his friend hadn't mentioned Oliver. Eddie had probably told Cisco about their encounters, but the mechanical engineer was also positive there was something going on between Eddie and Barry, though they had assured him multiple times they were only friends. It was possible Cisco had been referencing Eddie, and Barry had revealed just how enamored by Oliver Queen he really was.

"So when did this happen? I would have thought I'd have heard something by now, either from my good friend Barry, or the news stations, since apparently he has a thing going with some billionaire."

"Cisco, there's nothing going on between us. We're friends, that's it."

"Uh-huh."

Barry could tell that Cisco didn't believe him in the slightest, but his attention was diverted when he noticed a small red dot located on a man in a tuxedo. It was a laser, and it was focused on none other than Walter Steele.

In an instant Barry ran to the man and pushed him to the ground. He saw the bullet shatter the glass of the window, and a waiter move to where Walter had been standing only a microsecond before. Lightning flickered in Barry's eyes, and he snatched the waiter down, the bullet just grazing the top of the man's head. Half a second later the room was full of screams.

Detective Lance was making his way toward them, crouched low to avoid any bullets, and Barry began vibrating, disguising his face and his voice.

"Detective, we need to get these people to safety." There was a part of Barry that longed to go after the shooter, but he couldn't do that, not now. He knew the Hood was around somewhere, and even though he had never met the other vigilante, Barry had to trust him to take care of the shooter. The Streak was in the business of saving people, and that was what Barry had to do. He could help get people to safety, and that was what he had to do.

"You have to trust me detective."

Without waiting for an answer, Barry began speeding around, trying to grab as many people as he could, and run them to safety. He returned to the room and glanced around. Detective Lance was helping Walter Steele and the waiter, clinging to the walls of the room. A few feet away, Barry's stomach flipped as he saw Oliver and the rest of the Queens. The billionaire was pushing his mother and sister toward his bodyguard, before running off in the opposite direction. Barry wanted to scream at him to stop, but he knew he couldn't. He couldn't go after Oliver either, no matter how much he wanted to. Not with all these people here. Moira and Thea were clearly desperate and distraught, so Barry sped over to them as quickly as possible.

"I've got them." He said to the bodyguard, John Diggle, who was staring at Barry with wide eyes. "Go after him!" Without sparing another second, Barry grabbed Moira and Thea and ran them to safety, quickly finding Walter in the panicked crowd.

"T-thank you!" He heard Thea call out, but he didn't stop to acknowledge her, before speeding down the building and across the street. In only a few seconds he made it to the right level, but he was still too late.

"Barry, what's going on?" Cisco was yelling in his ear, and Barry sighed.

"He's dead. Deadshot is dead."

Cisco cursed into the comms.

"The Hood?"

"Well since there's an arrow sticking out of the guy's eye, I'm going to say yeah, it was definitely the Hood."

His eyes scanned the perimeter, and suddenly narrowed, seeing a splatter of blood by the doorway.

"Hold on Cisco, I think I got something."

"What is it?"

Barry reached into one of the pockets Cisco had finally put in the suit, and quickly took a sample.

"There's blood here, and it's not Lawton's."

"You think it's from the Hood?"

Barry looked at the dark liquid in the small glass tube.

"I don't know, but we're going to find out."

In a former life, Oliver Queen had never been patient. Even now, it wasn't quite sure to say that he had that particular virtue - it was doubtful he had any virtues - but he was good at faking it. He was precise, and that often forced him to be patient. It didn't come naturally to him, but he had honed his skills at waiting over the years. Still, that didn't make waiting for John Diggle to wake up any easier.

Objectively he knew the other man would be fine. It had been a non-lethal wound, and though Oliver was no surgeon, he was adept enough at stitching up gunshot wounds. Based on the scars littering Dig's body, and what the bodyguard had shared about his past, Oliver knew he wasn't a stranger to receiving gunshot wounds either.

However it wasn't the injury that was troubling Oliver. Instead it was the Streak.

Oliver had seen him. For the first time, he had seen the Streak with his own eyes, and if he thought he had prepared himself for the eventuality, he had been wrong. Somehow seeing him in person was nothing like reading blog posts about him. It had been nothing like Oliver had ever seen, and even though he had little proof to go off of, he was already ruling out the Mirakuru as a possibility. It enhanced people, sure, had the ability to create superhumans, but the Mirakuru didn't make someone so fast that they were impossible to see. So fast that all that was left behind was a red blur and yellow lightning. Oliver had seen the news reports after the event, he had seen the singed clothes worn by people who had reportedly been saved by the Streak, including his own sister and mother. Whatever happened to the Streak, it made him so fast that he was literally on fire.

Oliver sighed, and leaned against one of the tables, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, blinking back the exhaustion. It had been years since he was able to get more than a few hours of sleep at one time, and putting on the hood hadn't done much to help with that. Still, he couldn't succumb to the fatigue just yet. He had to wait for Dig to wake up, and the Streak had left him with plenty to ruminate upon.

He was fast. That much was obvious to anyone in Starling City, but the simple fact that he was fast wasn't what Oliver kept dwelling on. He had seen him in action, and he knew the Streak was fast enough to get to Deadshot, and yet he hadn't. Instead he had stayed and made sure every single person made it out safely. Even though the Streak was fast enough to make it to Deadshot and bring him down, he would have risked someone getting hurt in the seconds he spared to reach the mercenary. The Streak had decided reaching Lawton wasn't worth the possibility of someone getting hurt.

It made an uncomfortable feeling settle in his gut. Guilt mixed in with a sense of foreboding. The Streak valued the individual lives enough to sacrifice the murderer, but Oliver couldn't do that. He didn't have that luxury. He hadn't returned to Starling to be a hero, he was here to carry out his father's mission. He couldn't afford to feel guilty about being unable to save every single person, where the Streak obviously made it a priority.

However it concerned Oliver on another level. It was an inevitability that the Hood and the Streak would run in together. Oliver refused to say Starling City wasn't big enough for two vigilantes - it sounded petty, and bordered on an arrogance that even he wouldn't approach. However it wasn't so big that two men who wanted to save it would never run into each other.

Unfortunately, it was becoming less and less likely that if they did happen across each other, they would be on the same side. Yes, Oliver was willing to bet they wanted the same things, but the Streak had, for all intents and purposes, worn his heart on his sleeve. He revealed what his purpose in the city was, and that was to save its citizens from harm. It was a noble and pure cause. It was one that Oliver admired, however it was not his own cause. He had the list. He may have deviated for the sake of Floyd Lawton, but he was not some guardian angel for his city, unlike what the Streak seemed to be.

Oliver killed people, and would continue to do so. He offered opportunities for recompense of course, but he was not here to save, only to avenge. Having seen the Streak in action tonight, Oliver felt it was safe to say the other vigilante would not take too kindly to Oliver's methods.

He would have to prepare to fight him, and that was not something Oliver was looking forward to doing. He had gone up against people who seemed superhuman before, but this was something entirely different. Oliver had never seen the Streak fighting, only running around saving people. He doubted anyone had actually seen the red blur fight, he was simply too fast. Oliver had precision and rigorous training on his side, yes, but there was no way of knowing if the Streak was just as well trained, or perhaps had increased strength alongside his speed. It wouldn't surprise Oliver - he had after all, managed to carry multiple persons to safety. Besides, even as a college dropout, Oliver knew basic physics. A high enough speed could cause incredible damage, and he had no doubt the Streak could reach that speed. If Oliver were to fight the other vigilante, he would be going up against an opponent with supernatural powers that Oliver did not know the extent of. It was hardly ideal, but based on tonight, Oliver was starting to think it was a certainty.

On the table, Dig began to stir, and Oliver sighed, pushing thoughts of the Streak aside for now. He couldn't focus on the other vigilante. The Streak could busy himself saving the people of the city. Oliver had his hands full trying to save the city itself.