Fandomweekly Challenge 37 - Staying the course

[m_findlow]

Title: Staying the course
Fandom: Arrow
Characters: Thea, Malcolm
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 1,000 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for Challenge 37 - Opposites attract at fandomweekly
Summary: Thea's chosen path is paved with fears and doubts.
Disclaimer: I don't own them.

She was so angry with him she didn't even think she could breathe. The sword flailed uselessly wide, missing him completely as he swiveled from its path like a graceful dancer. Though he was broad of shoulder, he was remarkably lithe, and strong beyond measure. The more fervent she grew in her efforts, the more he seemed to glide around them, like smoke in the air, everything happening in slow motion. When his foot slipped behind her leg, tripping her up, sending her sprawling to the floor, the sword skittering away across the slate, she knew she'd had enough. With unbelievable speed she was back on her feet, lunging towards him with her fist. He caught it easily and held it firm so that she couldn't move, her face just inches from his own.

'Let me go,' she demanded.

'You need to learn to control your emotions and to turn them into a weapon you can yield. I would have thought a daughter of mine could have managed that. Guess I was wrong.'

She wanted to find something vitriolic to say in response, but her rage left her speechless.

'I'm. Not. You,' she spat.

'Not yet,' he replied, his voice cold and hard. 'Maybe not ever. You need to want it, first.'

She didn't want to be him. He was a monster, a murderer, a remorseless, selfish creature that only cared about himself. But she wanted something.

'I didn't come here to play happy families with you.'

'And yet you still came to me because you knew that I could teach you. Something only I can give you.'

She hated the way he was over brimming with confidence, able to cut to the heart of the issue.

She was the run who had run away, seeking him out. That didn't mean however she had to like the way he treated her, like a pupil, rather than like flesh and blood.

'Like you taught Tommy?' she countered.

That hit a nerve, seeing a tiny spark of rage flare up in those steely blue eyes. Maybe he had taught her something after all.

'You forget that I watched you growing up, Thea. I might not have known you were mine, but I saw the same weakness in you as I did in Tommy. Two children with every opportunity and privilege in the world handed to them on a silver platter, but who insisted on throwing it all away because it was easier to have fun than to take responsibility.'

'Are you saying Tommy died because he was a playboy? Funny, last time I checked, it was because some psychopath decided to blow up The Glades.' She cocked her head. 'Wonder who that was?'

'I did more to rid the city of its filth that anyone.'

'Not unless you're The Vigilante.'

He let out the mirthless chuckle. 'A mere thorn in my side. Let him capture the odd cat burglar. I have bigger plans. For both of us.'

'I don't want to be part of any of your plans.'

'Learning to hold your own is only the first step. You are capable of so much more. I can give you that.'

She really wanted to hate him and walk out of there, never to return, but there was something in that fierce demeanor that tethered her to him. Everyone in her life had let her down. Her mother who had played her own games, her brother who was never there when she needed him, Roy who had kept an entire secret identity from her. She'd never asked them for anything, but they'd all abandoned her in their own way. Only Malcolm had come to her aid when she was all alone, asking nothing in return but her loyalty. Even that was only implied, never asked for outright. He who was willing to give her his time and attention to make her more than she knew she was capable of. She found herself drawn to him like an invisible magnetic force.

He considered her for a moment. 'How much would you like to put that sword through me?'

'More than you know,' she replied, playing along with the little games he was so fond of.

She felt him press the hilt of his own sword into her palm. It was ice cold, even though it had never left his grip. He raised her wrist so that the blade was upright, its sharp tip pressed to his Adam's apple.

'Go ahead, then,' he said. 'You once told me you wanted to learn how to fight so that no one could ever hurt you again. Now's your chance. If I'm hurting you, then stop me.'

The sword quivered in her hand. How easy it might, just one thrust and then she could walk away. She also knew this was a trick of some kind. She was so tired of being played for a fool by everyone. She'd be doing everyone a favour by killing him, the man who'd murdered all those innocent people. It didn't matter that they already thought him dead. At least she'd know it for certain.

His eyes bored into her, reading something inside her soul. He knew she wouldn't do it. Father and daughter, but still poles apart because she knew right from wrong, rather than what simply felt right.

'Only the student hopes to defeat the master,' he said.

She dropped the sword, incensed by the knowing smile on his face. It made her feel sick.

'Finally a lesson you seemed to have learned,' he said.

'And what would that be, Dad?' The word felt like poison on her tongue.

'How to tell your friends from your enemies.'

'We're not friends,' she said, unable to look at him any longer.

'You and I are more alike than you know.'

She stormed out of the room, knowing his eyes were on her the entire time, and also knowing that come tomorrow she'd be back here, however much she hated herself for it.