The Darkest Part (Arrow Fanfiction)

Chapter One

Atticus flexed his long, capable fingers as he waited in the dark alley. In earlier years, his hands had been more adept to academic work, but now they felt just as comfortable doing dirty work. The dumpster he crouched behind smelled vile, and dripped a reddish brown liquid that he couldn't rule out as blood. His lab had always been clean, the sight of dirt and filth used to repel him, but he had long since moved beyond that. He checked his watch and smiled. It should be happening any moment.

It had been too long since working in the field. It felt good. So good, Atticus might have a hard time giving it up again. The familiar feeling of adrenaline, the thrill of the challenge, it was all a drug to him. He had to stay in control, or risk losing everything. His work was much too important and profitable to risk over some foolish addiction.

He shifted his weight, trying to keep his excited muscles from showing his impatience. A noise across the alley caught his attention as a rat scurried out from under a soggy cardboard box and disappeared into the darkness. A stillness settled over the alley, but the hair standing up on the back of his neck warned him he wasn't alone.

"You have information for me." a deep voice spoke. It was hardly a question, but more of a demand.

Atticus stood and turned. He smiled at the dark silhouette of the caped figure. "Yeah, that's right."

When Atticus didn't continue the man barked. "I'm waiting."

"They're called meta-humans."

"That's all you have. I ruled that possibility out weeks ago."

Atticus chuckled. "Just checking to see if you've done your homework."

"And apparently you haven't." The caped figure seemed to grow in the shadows. "I don't like my time wasted."

"All right, all right. I might have something." Atticus flicked his wrist downward causing a small vial with a needle to slip out. He smiled again. "But I'm going to need something from you first."

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One week later

"I need to know where this guy is now!" Oliver shouted as he and Roy zoomed down the street on their motorcycles.

"Give me a second," Felicity answered, in his ear piece. "I'm only one person." She paused. "Gotcha. Take your next left, he's two streets over riding a... Where did he get a horse?"

Oliver's right leg brushed against a lamppost as he made a quick turn. "Did you just say horse?"

"Yes, I did."

"That's a first," Roy said as they roared into the warehouse district.

"Stay on him," Oliver ordered. "I'm gonna try cutting him off."

"Got it," Roy answered, speeding ahead. He knew if the robber continued on his current course he would come to a large parking lot with nowhere to hide.

It didn't take long before Roy caught sight of the man on horseback. The rider looked as if he had stepped out of an old Western film—he even wore silver spurs and a Colt Peacemaker strapped to his side.

Roy shook his head. The criminals in this city were getting ridiculous. "Guys, we've got another one playing dress up."

"Oh, dear," Felicity said.

"Give it up," Roy shouted to the cowboy.

The man ignored him. Reaching out with his left hand Roy grabbed at the reins to slow the horse down. In hindsight, he realized it was a poor decision, considering he had no idea how to actually slow a horse. Watching Westerns on Saturday afternoons as a kid didn't prepare him for this. The horse veered toward him, forcing Roy to adjust his course. The front tire of his bike scraped the curb and he lost control, skidding across the pavement.