Since I usually write pure fluff/smut, I decided to give myself a challenge. It's darker than anything I've written, but I thought I'd give it a try. Just a warning, this particular chapter is tough. There will eventually be some romance in later chapters, but not quiet yet. I do love Oliver and Felicity together. The time between updates may be spread out. Work makes it difficult to find time to write.

Disclaimer: Arrow doesn't belong to me

A river of red flowed through the cracks of the sidewalk. It mixed in with the dirt, discarded cigarette butts and chewed gum. Its metallic scent permeated the air, letting those around know that something truly horrible had just occurred.

Oliver sat on the ground, a small lifeless body in his arms. His shoulders shook as sobs of anguish and anger tore from his mouth. This shouldn't have happened. The boy he held in his arms should not be dead; the victim of a stray bullet. A bullet that was meant for him.

He hadn't even seen the kid hiding behind the overflowing trashcan. His arrow had been notched, ready to be let loose, when Sean Matheus pulled out a gun. He let his arrow fly, its target met, as a single bullet left the gun. Oliver leapt out of the path of the bullet. He sprung back to his feet and was reaching for another arrow when he heard the cry of pain. At first he thought it was Matheus. The man was on the ground cursing him, an arrow lodged in his left leg.

The sound of a body hitting the ground behind the trashcan had him dropping his bow and running over. A boy who looked to be only eight years old, lay on the ground, bleeding profusely from a gunshot wound to his abdomen. Oliver knew, he knew, the kid wasn't going to make it. Despite knowing this, he tried to save him. He ripped off a piece of the white t-shirt he always wore underneath his hood and pressed it to the wound.

"Come on kid," he shouted when the boy started coughing up blood. The boy eyes were wide open, scared with tears spilling over and down his cheeks. The kid knew. He knew he was going to die. "Come on kid. You cannot die."

The boy held his gaze for another moment before the light left his eyes and he exhaled one last labored breath. Oliver stilled for a moment. If he moved, if he even blinked, he was going to lose it. He was going to go over to Matheus and shoot an arrow right through his heart. Then he'd shoot another through his eye just to make sure he truly was dead and could never kill another kid.

Instead, Oliver gathered the boys lifeless body in his arms, as tears began rolling down his cheeks. Vengeance burned in his heart. He couldn't allow this boys death to go unpunished; even if that punishment wasn't met out by him.

Oliver laid the boy back on the ground, angry with himself that he had to leave him there. But he knew the police would be there soon. He couldn't be there. But before he left, vengeance burning brightly in his eyes, he walked over to where Matheus lay on the ground. He wasn't going to kill him, even though his hands shook with the need to snap his neck. He knelt beside him and grabbed the arrow sticking out of his leg. He leaned against the arrow, causing Matheus to cry out as intense pain shot through his leg.

"Know this," he warned him, "The only thing keeping me from sticking this arrow through your eye socket, is knowing how you'll be vilified in the justice system. You killed a kid. No money you bribe people with will make that go away."

He gave the arrow on final twist, one final warning. Matheus screams of agony were drowned out by the sound of the approaching police sirens. It was time for Oliver to leave. He got up, grabbed his bow from where he dropped it, and ran away.