Green Arrow #1
Dream Quest - Part One
The First Step
By
Everyone dies. That's something we all have to learn- some of us sooner than others. It's something that sometimes drives us, sometimes guides us, or sometimes haunts us for the rest of our lives. Regardless, it's something we've got to learn to accept. We're only mortal. Nothing lasts forever. Everybody dies.
You would've thought that I, at least, would've been able to come to terms with this basic principle of life. After all, I got my first introduction to it at an early age. My father died when I was just a kid. So, I should've known- we're mortal. We will die. There's not a one of us that's gonna live forever.
Somehow, though, I'd forgotten that lesson. Maybe, it's because we've cheated death so many times. Surviving and prevailing against impossible odds time and time again. Hanging on by the very skin of our teeth. Somehow making it through one insane adventure after another, always virtually unscathed, and always ready for the next disaster, the next mad supervillain, the next world ending threat.
Or maybe I forgot the lesson because the people we came to know just didn't seem to die. Or, rather, they don't seem to stay dead. How man times did we see a hero sacrifice themselves for the greater good? Or some cracked out superfiend fall prey to their own inane death trap? How many times did we see people die, only to have them come back to haunt us not two, or three, weeks later?
So, who can blame me if I forgot that all-important lesson? Who can point their finger and say, 'You should have seen it coming, Roy. You, of all people should have known better.'
I mean sure, I knew that people are mortal. I knew that eventually everyone dies. Just not in my world and not the people that I knew. In my world we're something other than mortal. In my world 'death' just means we had to wait a couple of weeks before they come back.
But it'd been more than a couple of weeks, hadn't it, Ollie? And you hadn't come back, had you? You know, I'd almost learned to let you go. I'd almost learned to stop waiting for you to come back. But, every once in awhile I'd see a hint of green out of the corner of my eye, or catch a glimpse of a blonde goatee, and I'd think it's you. The phone will ring, or there'll be a knock on the door and I'll think- 'He's back! He's come to tell me that it was all some stupid mistake, and now he's back to drag me off on some new adventure'.
But, it was never you. And I came to understand that it wouldn't be you ever again.
If it wasn't for Lian, I don't know how I could've been able to go on. If it wasn't for her and the Titans keeping me grounded, keeping me in the here and now- would I have been able to let you go? Could I have said goodbye to another father? Or would I still be waiting there by the phone, eyes on the door. Waiting. Waiting for the news that you weren't dead, that somehow, you'd returned. That, somehow, you'd come back, to take me away on another crazy adventure.
After all, it wasn't as ridiculous an expectation as it might've at first appeared. I mean, look at Superman, he was dead. Wonder Woman, the Flash, they were both considered dead at one time, or another. Even Hal Jordan came back - kind of.
So, why didn't you come back, Ollie? Why did you leave me alone again?
Well, that's not completely true. When it comes right down to it, I wasn't really alone. I still had Lian. I still had the Titans. And I still had Dinah and Connor, even if the only thing Connor and I shared was your loss.
I guess that bond was enough though, huh, Ollie? Otherwise, why would I have been there, right? Sitting on that park bench, watching Lian chase after her inflatable plastic ball, waiting for someone who's the closest thing to a brother I'm ever likely to know, to show up at the meeting place where his email told me to wait.
He was being polite. I could see him coming from across the park. When it comes down to the super-sneaky-ninja- stealth-mode-shimmy, I've seen him sneak up on his own shadow. This time, though, he made sure I knew he was there. You taught him pretty well, Ollie. He's a good kid. He deserved better than the end you gave him, but then, so did we all.
Connor Hawke is definitely your kid, Ollie. And I'm not talking just about the blonde hair and green eyes. His eyes are just as much his mother's, anyway. And his looks will always be more exotic, than your own classic Anglo-Saxon features. He still has the 'family charm', though. He still has your innate ability to enchant the ladies. I guess that's something we both 'inherited' from you.
This time, though, it was obvious that he'd more than met his match.
Lian stopped chasing her ball as soon as she saw Connor approach. She spotted him almost as soon as I did. Damn she's sharp. You'd be so proud of her 'grandpa'. She stood there, as her ball bounced to a rest at Connor's feet, watching him with those big beautiful eyes of hers.
Connor gave her a slightly uneasy smile, as he knelt down to pick up her ball and hand it back to her. You can tell that he wasn't used to being around kids, which makes sense, since he was an only child, who spent a great deal of his life in a monastery. When Lian reached out to take the ball back from him though, flashing one of her thousand-watt grins, you could tell he'd already fallen under her charm.
And when she held the ball up in her two hands, and said, "Hullo, Uncle Connor, d'ya wanna play ball?"- it was obvious he'd fallen victim to her lethal 'cuteness factor'. I swear, Ollie, the kid's stolen more hearts than the rest of our 'family' combined.
Connor grinned back and reached out to smooth Lian's hair. She doesn't really like people fussing with her hair, no matter how unruly it gets, but she'd gotten use to the attention. She just stood there and accepted the attention, though with obvious distaste. Connor smiled in sympathy, undoubtedly he'd had more than his fair share of hair-ruffling, himself.
"Sorry, kiddo, maybe later. Right now I've got to speak with your dad."
He looked me in the eye as he made his way back to his feet, offering me a nod in way of greeting. I fired off one of my own patented thousand-watt grins (though not quiet as bright as Lians') and tossed an irreverent salute in return.
As he walked closer I began to notice that there was something wrong. He was wearing shades, which he'd never done before, no matter how bright the noon day sun. And there was something off with his gait. Not quiet the smooth, confidant walk of a master of the martial arts, but almost a limp?
I stopped lounging against the back of the park bench and sat up straight, leaning forward in interest. Connor noticed my increased scrutiny and adjusted his shades self-consciously. He ran a hand through his short cropped hair and I noticed that he was holding his left arm close to his body, as if to protect it from any further harm.
It became obvious that someone had done a number on the poor kid. But, Connor was supposed to be one of the baddest hand-to-hand combatants in the world. Even Batman was said to acknowledge his martial prowess. So, who could have beat on the kid like a red headed stepchild?
I, of course, began my inquiry with the utmost tact and subtlety, "Dee-YAM! Who th' Hell kicked the $#!+ out of you?!"
Well, what can I say, Ollie? You never really taught me subtlety, now did you? Connor offered up a sheepish grin, but didn't deign to answer the question.
"So, how are you doing, Roy?"
I grinned and leaned back, stretching my legs out in front of me, "Not bad, little bro. Not bad at all. How 'bout chu?"
Connor grinned again, his hand unconsciously moving to adjust his shades. He managed to catch himself in the middle of the act, and changed the motion into running his hand through his hair again. If I hadn't spent so much time with Dick 'The-World's-Greatest-Detective-In-Training' Grayson, I might have missed it, but even I'm not that oblivious.
"I've been better," he smiled sheepishly, then turned to glance at Lian, who'd returned her attention to chasing down her ever- errant ball, "Lian's growing up so fast, Roy. What have you guys been feeding her out on Titan's Island?"
"Well, you know, just the normal stuff- Peas, carrots, anabolic steroids. Nothing special".
Connor blinked and looked up at me in obvious startlement. I grinned and gave him an overly exaggerated wink. He shook his head and we both enjoyed a good laugh. Not exactly rolling-on-the-floor-tears-streaming-down-our-faces, but it was still a good laugh.
When it was over, however, we lapsed into the inevitable awkward silence. I'm sorry, Ollie. I'd like to be able to say that we automatically fell into the easy banter of family, but we didn't. When it comes right down to it, we hardly knew each other. The only real connection we had is that he's the biological son of the man I considered my father. And really, that was as much an obstacle as it was a link bringing us together.
It was Connor who finally breaks the uneasy silence, "I-I need your help, Roy."
"Sure, no problem, holmes. You know I'm always here to help. So, what's up? You want me and the Titans to pound on the guy who did that to your face?"
"Actually, this isn't something I want the Titans involved in, Roy. It's a family matter. It's about Da...it's about Ollie."
And just like that the walls came up. I wasn't lounging anymore, I was sitting up straight, every muscle tense. The grin was gone, and you could hear me gritting my teeth. I squinted up at Connor through my shades and my voice, when I spoke could have given Firestorm frostbite, "Ollie's dead, Hawke. Period. End of Story."
"I know that that's what we all believed, Roy, but I don't think it's true. I was meditating and I had this vision."
"You had a..." I have no idea how it happened, but I wasn't sitting down anymore, I was on my feet and the intensity of my anger was forcing Connor back. "A vision?! You had a |"V<%ing VISION?!"
Connor stumbled and his shades slipped down his nose. He stared at me with a shocked incredulity. A beauty of a shiner was keeping his left eye half-closed. The poor kid's mouth hung open, and he moved it silently, trying to find some words that would make everything okay. But, everything wasn't okay. And it wasn't his fault, Ollie. It was yours.
The breath went out of me in a tired sigh, and my whole body deflated. It wasn't Connor I was mad at. It was you, Ollie. I was mad because you weren't here. I was mad because I wasn't over you absence. And I was mad because this poor kid was, apparently, even more lost than I was.
"Look, Connor," my voice was quiet and tired as I placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm not mad at you. I know what you're going through. We all wish Ollie were still alive. But he isn't. And we just have to be able to accept."
"You're wrong, Roy. He is alive."
Next Issue:
Things get hot and heavy between Connor and Roy. Will Connor be able to convince Arsenal that Oliver is still alive, or will it all end in tragedy? What do you think? If you really want to know, check out part II.