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[color=darkred][b]Location:[/b][/color] Harbor 
[color=darkred][b]Interactions:[/b][/color] Metamorph
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Quiver’s focus on the collapsing criminal in front of him prevented him from the threat of yet another would-be-assailant. The young vigilante barely had time to register that there was another baddie nearby before a flash of color descended between the two of them. Metamorph was in full hero mode, effortlessly demonstrating his reaction time by repeatedly deflecting shots aimed for the two of them.

The shots bounced off of Metamorph’s gauntlets as if they did no more damage than common houseflies. Quiver was able to keep his attention on the criminal he had in his grasp, and was annoyed to find that the bastard had fainted - either from the pain or the fear of being shot at, saved (even if incidentally) or just in the presence of Metamorph.

Quiver eased the man back down to the ground before leaning him against one of the large metal shipping containers. He started to loot the man’s pockets for anything that could be considered useful, but shot up when he heard his teammate's sudden agonized scream.

Quiver pulled his bow as fast as he turned around, expecting Metamorph to be in a fight with another of their targets. Instead, Quiver was shocked to see his bestial teammate on his knees, gripping the sides of his head. His screams permeated deep within Quiver’s skull. He thought he could feel it bouncing off of the fillings in his teeth.

The scream was part human, mostly animal. But which animal was hard to tell. It was like a whole herd. Will reached into his actual Quiver, recognizing things could go even more sour than they already had.

Quiver got closer to his teammate with the intention of trying to talk him down, but he stopped in place as he looked into Metamorph's eyes. They were straining incredibly hard, and the young hero’s black hair was whipping violently as if caught up in a great gust of wind. Not only that, but Quiver could hear a sickening crack and snapping, as if Kilamanjaro’s skeleton was breaking all at once, shifting or moving. Quiver barely even registered that the man’s suit was now changing to a shade of crimson red.

Quiver didn’t think there was anything he could do, and felt for a proper arrow in his Arsenal.

[center]~~~[/center]

“You didn’t see him. It wasn’t like one of the Talon’s. When we did what we did, it was methodical, we knew what we were doing. But Meta…it’s like he wasn’t there. Or something else entirely just took his place. Without Nymph? He’d have tried to rip through all of us.”

It was only a few days after Quiver’s reintroduction to the team during the bank heist, and Will was in the middle of a more heated conversation than usual with Green Arrow.

Ollie shook his head. 
“He’s your teammate. Maybe even could be a friend of yours. You know how many times I’ve had to talk down a friend of mine who that week just decided they wanted to try and take over the world? Or were suddenly possessed by the literal manifestation of fear and the color yellow? Or something like that, to be honest Hal never really cleared that up for me.”

“Ollie this is serious. Where I come from? If someone ever got out of line like that, we’d put them down. What would I do if it happened again? What if Nymph wasn’t there? Just try and hug it out? I’ve let go of a lot of violence but I don’t see an exit strategy for a rogue hero turned animalistic killing machine. And I don’t have the wherewithal to try and get through to someone on this team. Why would they listen to me? I’m not the team leader, I’m not Kassy. I’m not YOU.”

Will was getting himself worked up, and Oliver knew it. When confronted with a difficult situation, it was obvious that Will was reverting back to his ways from the court of owls.

“I know all about the Tower of Babel. I know every hero has a failsafe plan to take them down if they were suddenly fighting for the other side. And I’ve got my own plan for Metamorph.” The young hero turned to the desk in front of him, it was clear he was constructing and assembling trick arrows. His arrows were nonlethal, typically meant to stun or trap. But the arrowhead in front of him now looked particularly menacing.

“Will. I think Batman would tell you that having plans to neutralize his friends was a mistake, it hurt a lot of people."

"Yeah I'm sure that's what he would [i]say.[/i]"

Will's back was to Ollie now, as he finished construction. The Green Arrow watched his young ward. They'd made a lot of progress in a short time, but there was still a long way to go. A part of him wondered if sending him back to the team was counterintuitive to Will's growth. But Ollie was an optimistic guy. He felt, deep down...that Quiver would do the right thing when the time came.

[center]~~[/center]

Now Quiver held that same menacing looking tranquilizer arrow and slowly nocked it. It was a special grade arrow tip, sharp enough for piercing a Metahuman. It was also incredibly dangerous. Now was the perfect time to fire it between Metamorph's ribs…

Will’s head flashed with imagery of Metamorph at Mt Justice, at the circus, their first training exercises together. And then all the times Metamorph was the social one, the one who moved around with a sense of ease at all times, as if he was the coolest person in the room.

And he thought of Ollie, of the team. What would the rest of them do in a situation like this that he he himself could do too? Could he do anything but hurt people?

Quiver held the bow at full draw, but hesitated. 

Why wasn’t he firing it? 

He felt himself slowly lower the bow, begin to loosen the drawstring.

“Kila…it’s going to be alri-“ he never got the words out. The Red got to him first.