Paint it Another Colour

Chapter 5

Arthur swallowed as silently as he could, still shaking. "You're supposed to be dead. I... I killed you. What are you doing here?"

Oliver blinked innocently and then smiled in a sickeningly sweet way. "I know you did dear. I've never hated anyone more for something. But you forget, I killed you as well. Don't think I don't know I killed you. And anyway, you cheated, pulling that whole black magic spell on me. If I'd have known that magic would be allowed, I would have used it, but you never told me. I don't know why you're this shocked anyway. You came back didn't you? You resurrected. So why shouldn't I? We're the same species you know? Inhumane, but we are immortal. Just because we're different forms of the same body doesn't mean that one of us is going to resurrect and leave the other buried six feet under."

"I guess that makes sense" Arthur muttered, scooping up his phone and cursing at the damage done to the screen, hardly taking his eyes off Oliver.

"I'm glad we finally understand one another" Oliver beamed and opened the oven. "I'm glad you came in when you did. Any later and my cupcakes would have probably burnt. I'd have still been talking to you see. Do you bake often?"

He did. Arthur made scones a lot. He never really tried anything else. For dinner, maybe he'd try making a cottage pie, battering some fish, or making a roast, but if anyone else was round, he'd buy the food. The comments hurt, so he tried not to make them say them. The question 'do you bake often' had never been asked to him before. Normally he'd be almost happy about being associated with something he loved... even though he was terrible at it, but knowing the personality of the question's asker, he wasn't so sure, so he shook his head.

"No?" Oliver stared at him, holding the tray of cupcakes, his hands protected by Arthur's union jack oven gloves. "I thought everyone baked at some point. I thought you did quite a lot. Whether it worked or not is outside of the question. I've talked to people. I know you bake."

"I fail to see how this has any relevance to anything" Arthur said, changing the subject. "Baking is baking. For some it's a job, for others it's a hobby, a pass time. What I want to know is what you're doing here."

"I thought I answered that dearie" Oliver cocked his head to one side, placing butter and icing sugar on the table. "I'm here because, just like you and everyone else who 'died', I resurrected. You're not the only ones it can happen to. It happens to all of us."

"I meant what are you doing here. In my house. In mine and my brothers'... have you... they're not here?"

Oliver shook his head. "I wanted to pop in and say 'hello'. Your eldest brother, Allistor isn't that dissimilar to Anderson. Both of them shout when I appear and try to hit me. It was slightly different with your brother though. Anderson will hit me, but without the intension of killing me. Allistor wanted to kill me. I could see it in his eyes, the hatred. The ruthlessness. The disgust. Naturally I had to defend myself. I wasn't really helped by Digon... or whatever he is to you screaming. Rhys lookalike, something like Rohan or Ronan to you, appeared and then vanished, shouting about something or another. You have to believe me, I didn't kill them, although my being here and their not being here does indicate that doesn't it."

Arthur glanced around the kitchen with jerky movements, searching for anything that might indicate he wasn't lying. He had no reason to trust him. This was Oliver. Oliver who had tried to kill him. Oliver who had killed him. Oliver who, admittedly, he had killed, but still, this was Oliver, and Oliver wasn't to be trusted.

Now, Oliver-who-was-not-to-be-trusted was icing his cakes, humming eerily under his breath. He'd found a piping bag and was carefully edging the cupcakes, coming closer to the middle as he went, making the icing higher and higher. Arthur swallowed. The thing that creeped him out most about Oliver wasn't the cakes, or the humming, or the murderous side, it was the non-murderous side, the side that was all 'silver linings' and smiles and fluff and happy days. The side that could put you off your guard, so you're not ready when he switches to the not nice side.