Sherlock meets The Flash and Arrow

Chapter 35

Oliver

It's pretty unsettling that Diggle just got so much better with just a few nudges, but I'm careful to not let my surprise show.

I walk over to Diggle and take his bars. Just like they were thrown at me, I hurl them at Sherlock. He grabs them out of the air and whirls them through the air, testing their weights. Then he casually steps onto the training area.

Before he's fully ready, I leap at him. I'd be a lot more comfortable with my bow, but these bars slide into my hands like old friends. I can already see that Sherlock isn't holding his comfortably, or with the ease of practice.

Then suddenly he smiles wickedly and settles his hands firmly in the right places.

He's clearly picked it up from watching us fight. Great.

Suddenly, I'm on the defensive. I'm not sure when that happened. One minute I was charging at him, bars flying, trying to get him off balance. Now I'm stepping back away from the flurry that's become Sherlock, whirling with a pointed grace. All over my body, I feel the gentle tap of a pulled hit.

Sherlock smiles. "You need a better guard on your lower left side. You're too confident. No one's pushed you to learn or get better in a while."

He's right, and I know it. It bothers me that he's pulling his hits like I'm a child still learning how to fight. But it's like I always used to tell Roy. Use that anger.

I push back against his assault. Unlike him, I'm not going to pull my hits. I get a good hit in on his right arm and he flinches slightly.

Then he whacks my left bar out of my hand. I mentally groan. That will make this a lot harder to win.

Sherlock continues his attack. I don't know how he has the breath to speak, but he says, "Interesting. Oh, of course. Your bow."

"What?"

"You've got a stronger guard on your left side with just the one bar. Probably because you're used to fighting with one bow."

I smile slightly. This is interesting. I practically throw myself at him, changing my tactics entirely. He blocks my furious assault, but I've definitely got him on the defensive. Then, abruptly, I spin behind him and send a flying kick at his head. He ducks, but I shove him as he moves and pin him against the wall.

John

I'm still reeling from my realizations, so it takes me a second to notice that Oliver's pinned Sherlock. However, Oliver's using all of his limbs to keep Sherlock in place, and so can't actually do anything with his advantage. In the scuffle, Sherlock's and Oliver's bars have fallen to the ground.

Sherlock says, calmly, "Are we fighting with everything?"

Oliver narrows his eyes, then, slowly, nods.

Immediately, I say, "No." I've drawn their attention, but they're both good enough to not glance away from their opponent.

Sherlock sighs. "Why not?"

I decide not to answer that question, and instead, answer his original one. "Everything physical, Sherlock."

Oliver blinks. "What's he going to do?"

I bite my lip. Sherlock says, calmly, "My body isn't my only weapon. Unlike you, I can use my mind in a fight too."

Oliver starts. "Your words."

Sherlock smiles. "I've been told they hurt like knives when I want them to."

I think about the poor lady Sherlock interrogated when he was chasing after the two kidnapped kids. "Yeah, that's an understatement."

Oliver meets Sherlock's eyes. "You think you could hurt me with just your words?" I've warned Sherlock and Oliver, but I'm not going to stop Sherlock. Oliver's asking for it at this point. Besides, the warning should be enough... I hope.

Sherlock smiles. "Oh, I could have you sobbing on the floor in seconds." He reminds me of a shark when he does this. "You've seen so much pain and lost so much. It makes you vulnerable. Weak."

Oliver looks away. Then, suddenly, he yanks Sherlock into a different position. It looks significantly less comfortable. Sherlock laughs softly. "Oh, please. What do you think you're going to do?"

Oliver doesn't reply.

Sherlock laughs harder. "About all you can do now that you couldn't before is dislocate my knee. And we both know you won't. Odd, isn't it? How you can't handle the sound of my muscles tearing off of my bones. You're a fighter who can't hurt someone. Who's vowed not to kill." He smirks at Oliver. "What's that vow cost you, though? Your mother, your sister, your dead friend's boyfriend's allegiance, his father's organization's allegiance, and it nearly cost you your city too. And in the end, that was your decision."