With Morality Like a Polynomial

Or Burn Just To Keep Me Compliant?

Oh my god I feel like the universe didn't want me to update because everything seemed to get in the way.
never have I fought tooth and nail to force myself to right a chapter than I did with this one. Jesus Christ my brain was crying and screaming as I dragged myself towards my laptop because it did not want to cooperate. but whatever. we're here now.
and then my town got hit with a short and sweet small cyclone. no biggie. power went out and so did the service and then after the service came back my laptop refused to connect properly because it is stupid. I'm hotspotting my phone to upload this and even that wasn't working before.
and you'd think that this taking so long to update would mean the next chapter is nearly finished. to such an assumption I merely scoff.
anyway, title is from the same song as the past three fics. this one, however, is a lot less dark and sad as the last three. Artemis kinda got it the easiest out of all of them in this universe, ngl. which is kinda on purpose, it sorta switches the script from the show.
big thanks to the dearest Lemon_P3asant who is basically carrying me inspiration and motivation wise. It might be impossible for me to have a conversation with them without getting hit with serotonin and creativity. they've drawn fanart of this series which blows my mind, but idk if they'll post it so... maybe you should follow them to find out? hm?

Oliver Queen sat atop the roof of Queen Consolidated. His eyes were trained on Orion, clearly visible in the South Eastern sky, bow drawn and pointed across the murky black of nothingness that stretched between each speck of light.

Once upon a time, when he'd been stuck on a deserted island, a mercenary had pointed to Orion as it became visible and said that it meant they'd reached early to mid-November. Oliver had watched it become brighter overnight until it faded with the dawn, made keenly aware he'd been stuck in that crucible of a hell-land for almost a year.

A year: by then he'd felt he were a changed man, who'd never be the same. By then he'd thought he'd never escape, and if he did he would never be the old Oliver Queen again.

He was right, of course, he wouldn't. but when he had thought of the old Oliver Queen, he had made it synonymous with the happy Oliver Queen. Several years later, once he'd become an established hero, once he'd found a protégé of his own, once he'd saved people and helped people, found love and family, he'd learned that the new Oliver Queen could be happy, too.

The new Oliver Queen stared up at Orion, visible for its 76th day in a row, and wondered if Artemis was looking at it too.

He forced his eyes away, making himself flick his attention from one star to the next in the constellation, then to a star outside of it, then to the next, and the next, down, down, down till he'd managed to pull his view to the horizon. Star City had so much light pollution they were lucky to see any constellations, Orion was so big and bright that it was one of few. Sometimes he missed the island if only for the fact that it wasn't a city.

He sighed, his vision now solely on the streets and skyline. The starry night sky was so peaceful compared to the neon lights and loud streets of Star.

He pulled a grapple arrow from his quiver, lined it up with the next skyscraper in his range, and sped off into the night.

The police scanner hummed through the comm in his ear, turned down so it stayed in the back of his mind but didn't distract him. He didn't have anyone watching his back tonight. No Speedy. No Black Canary. No Artemis.

No Red Arrow.

He hit a roof a little too hard, set off running as he continued on his patrol route.