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A wounded animal was the most dangerous kind of animal. Oliver knew this for a fact.
Slade was a wounded animal, lock inside a cell, never to be release by his captor. So he issued the blows like a beast caught in a trap, and they were all on target.
“How many people can Oliver Queen lose before there is no more Oliver Queen?”
The question stuck in his mind. He didn’t know. What he did know was Oliver Queen was dying inside of him. It frightened him Oliver Queen would soon be no more.
Oliver Queen held his humanity, his will to do good, his values. Without Oliver Queen, he knew, he would be beyond redemption. And he was losing the internal fight. The Arrow was taking over. The weapon, was taking over. And he didn’t have the will to fight it anymore. Malcolm had put everyone he cared about in Ra’s crossairs he had no choice; he had to be the weapon.
“How’s the girl with glasses? What’s her name… Felicity.”
The threat clear in Slade’s word’s. NO, the word was only his internal scream. She was off limits, to both of them.
Like the Arrow, Slade was only a weapon, he had lost his humanity. Shado was his light; she kept total darkness at bay. Without her there was only darkness for Slade.
Felicity was Oliver’s light, like Shado to Slade. She too was lost to him. He had to protect her from being tainted with the darkness he perceived enveloping him, consuming him. As much as he had to protect her from the darkness that was Slade Wilson.
He knew the threatening look wouldn’t stop Slade but ARGUS prison could. And if he keep Felicity away from both Slade and himself she could remain the light he desperately craved, but that would fade in the hands of a man has broken has he was.