#Arrow Fanfic

[jackiequick]

How Lucy Met Ollie | Smallville Fanfic

Paring: Oliver & Lucy

———

Setting: Season six episode ‘Sneeze’

Characters: Oliver Queen, Lucy Kent and Lois Lane

Mentioned characters: Senator Martha Kent, Clark Kent & etc

—^^0–

Summary: When Oliver Jonas Queen came to the Kent Farm, last thing he expected was to find a beauty…

———

The sky was partly cloudy, sun shining across Smallville every one in a while. Seemed like it might rain later on, but at the moment it was shiny skies for the townsfolk.

His car parked a few feet away from the household, stepping out of the car, Oliver smiled. Beautiful house, old fashioned and smell like a warm slice of homemade apple pie. He loves pie. Some flowers even scattered around the front yard.

He held a file in his hand, jogging up the steps to the house, knocking on the door twice as he assumed that it’s a large household so they might not hear him the first time. Just in case.

Once the door opens, Oliver Jonas Queen was dumbstruck when one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen turns to face him.

Ollie never thought of a encounter like this today. He was expecting to see Senator Kent or someone else. But not a lovely young women is dark hair, a pink baseball t-shirt and a beauty mark next to her roundly shaped nose.

“Yes?” Said the women, when Ollie kept staring at him like she had something on her face.

“Oh um. Yeah, sorry.” He laughed breathlessly, “I came to deliver this to your home.”

He gladly extended the envelope to her, she took it and slipped it underneath her arm.

“Queen Industries.” Read the dark haired beauty with a slight rasp in her voice, “Great! Mom was waiting for this to arrive.”

Oliver found the rasp in the voice cute and something he hasn’t seen too much in women he met. Wait mom?! Is that-does that mean-? He would’ve mistaken her to a young Senator Kent if he didn’t know what she looked like in the first place.

Or at least, her assistant.

No one told Ollie that Martha Kent was blessed with the most beautiful daughter. He wondered if she had more kids, two daughters? A son? Oh god, Oliver would have a field day and never want to leave!

If they have told him, Ollie would’ve brought flowers to the farm.

And a ticket to see a movie.

“You mean to say, you’re Senator Kent’s daughter?” Asked Oliver to confirm his decision.

“The one and only!” Replied Mrs. Kent’s daughter delighted.

“How wonderful.”

“Uh, thank?”

He was laying it on thick, as one can see.

She chuckled, thinking that this blonde was a sight for sore eyes. A supermodel with that charming smile, bright chocolate brown eyes and fluffy spiked up hair. One word to describe him, playful.

He’s probably taken by a gorgeous young blonde with blue eyes and killer curves. Lady killer.

If someone told her that Oliver Queen was coming, she would’ve prepared him a little gift to take home after he given her the files.

“And what do they call yo—” Oliver started.

“Lucy? Is something w-” called someone, unknowingly answering Ollie’s questions, “-oh! Who’s this?”

A lovely young blonde, probably older than the brunette, appeared joining Lucy at the door. GOD DAMN! Are there any more drop-dead gorgeous women in this house? Is Martha Kent hiding them all in her barn?!

He should’ve returned home to Smallville a long ass time ago then! Are they sisters? Cousins?

God Oliver wouldn’t be surprised if another showed up within the next few seconds. His grin is just growing by the minute he’s standing at their doorstep.

Honestly Oliver doesn’t care, all he knows that Mrs. Martha Kent was hiding beautiful women in this house and no one thought to tell him.

“Hey.” Said the blonde women, taking a breath when she sees him.

“Hi.” Ollie replied with a charming smile.

The women keeps on smiling at him. Again, gorgeous! Ollie internally winces, he’s been blessed today but doesn’t know how to truly handle it.

He likes both women’s beautiful grins and hint of amusements in the older ones voice.

Lois chuckled, smiling onto the way this man carried himself. Just like her friend, she found him super cute. Charming like a prince, but layback like a cool surfer boy.

Meanwhile the way he dressed screamed business causal with a hint of a playfulness that she liked.

“I’m Oliver.” He said offering another sunny smile.

“Lois. Lois Lane.” Said the blonde women with a grin, shaking his hand.

“And I’m Lucy, as you already gather from that.” Added the brunette with a smile.

“I had. Can i say, it’s a real pleasure to meet both of you, ladies.” He purred.

Lucy tried holding back a giggled, bitting the inside of her cheek and nodding.

Lois chuckled, holding up five bucks to him and said, “You know with a face like that, you can do a lot better than playing errand boy to the rich and arrogant.”

“Thank you very much but what is-is?” Oliver replied with a smile, sorta confused.

“You’re tip.”

“It’s a tip. Okay.”

“Seriously, aim higher.”

“Listen um—”

But before he could finished, Lois slammed the door in his face with a smile and walked back to her place on the kitchen counter. Oliver stood there, huffing not getting a moment to come out with a full sentence.

Lucy laughed shrugged watching her mother come in and ask Lois Lane who was at the door, as you can see the total embarrassment and emotions of regret wash over her punky friend’s face. The realization fell on both of their faces as her mother causally told them who that guy actually was.

As her mother left, Lois looked at her friends muttering, “That was Oliver Queen.”

“Yup!” Lucy replies wincing at the foolish timing at their actions and quickly race out of the door.

“Where are you going?!” Yelled Lois from her seat, watching the brunette go.

“To grab a coffee with Oliver Queen!”

“Ohh! I’m gonna go apologize to your mom.”

“And I gotta apologize to him.”

———

Once Lucy was stumbling out of the steps of their nicely sized two story house, popping out her the collar to her jacket, the women looked around for the man. Never mind that, she was wondering if he came by car or foot!

Cause if this man came by either motorcycle or something, it would definitely harder to catch up to the blonde. Moments like this she wished she had Clark’s X-Ray vision or super speedy legs but sadly she wasn’t given the time to wonder, as out of the far left corner of her eye she saw it.

A deep black cherry car driven past the fields of the small freshly grounded land. There he was. She scurried out the gateway, racing past the tall grass and chilly weather trying to reach the car.

She ran up as fast as she could, trying to reach at least close to the side of the car, yellling out his name.

“Oliver! Hey!” She yelled out repeatedly when suddenly a screeching halt was loud that the cows from a yard away might’ve heard it.

Oliver heard a mix of yelling, shouting and screaming from behind the far right of his ear, looking at the rear view mirror to see the brunette from earlier. He gasped slightly, with a cheeky chuckle at the sight. She looked kinda silly racing toward a car that ran faster than her.

He started to slow down his car, wanting to tease the women a bit speeding up once he saw she got closer. Oliver laughed, reversing his energy into driving the car to the quickest speed he could without causing any damage or anything to the road.

Finally he noticed that he was wasting time, yelling back a joke about how slow she was as he came into a screeching halt that was too loud. He leaned against his driver seat, seeing her benched over her knees panting and huffing, mumbling softly ‘finally’.

He opened the door for her and told her hand, helping her inside the passenger seat with a soft smile and tossed her a water bottle. She quietly thanked him by taking the water and downing a large gulp, breathing heavily with a chuckle.

“Didn’t you hear me?” She asked with a smile, shaking her head.

“I did. But what the hell made you think you can outrun a Supercar?” He joked with a matching smile.

“Uh, i don’t know. But you slowed down a few times?”

“I was trying to see if you can take the heat.”

“Not funny. And not nice either, Mr. Queen?”

“Mr. Queen? Who told you?”

She panted with another chuckled, “My mother, she confirmed who you were. Lois didn’t know.”

“I can tell.” He replies holding up the 5 bucks from earlier, “She tipped me! But it’s fine, I wasn’t thinking straight either.”

“I can tell. You were kinda out of it. My mom wants to hopefully meet up with you later, if that’s alright?”

“I was hoping i would have time to meet her this afternoon anyway. I can do 5 o’clock.”

“Why 5? She’s free to talk now, if you like.”

“No, because I think i owe Senator Kent’s daughter small lunch after what i did. You know, trying to make a first impression on her?”

“Well played. Sure I’ll love that, Ollie.”

He smiled at the nickname, taking her out of a small drive around the town before a quick lunch at The Talon. Hopefully next time he can take her or Lois Lane out to Metropolis for a date.

She returned the smile, liking him already seeing something unique within this man, who just met but she didn’t what it is yet.

Little did she know that, Oliver Queen would become a longtime friend and future part of her extended-family.

——

———

AHH! ☺️ I had fun writing this it’s been in my drafts for ages!!! Let me know what you think 💭

For the those of who are wondering about Lex Luthor and Lucy Kent? Don’t worry I’m working on something special yet specific for them! 😉

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @aidanxsophxoxo @rickb-chaos @starkleila @infinetlyforgotten @meiramel @sherloquestea @djs8891 @buckysteveloki-me @yetanotherwells @ximehs @rose-of-oz @rowinablx

[regina-knight-arrow]

Regina Knight and Tommy Merlyn - Where Loyalties Lie

(insp)

[twofacedharveydent]

Anthem of the Angels | @darknightfrombeyond   → Oliver and Amelia Queen

[schrijverr]

The Most Important Thing

Oliver returns home with only a chest of stuff, in it is the most important thing he has; Akio’s ashes. He tries to do right by the boy, attempting to give him a good resting place. In doing so, he finds pieces of himself again.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: grief, the mention of a canonical child death and canonical character death

~~~

The chest he brings back from Lian Yu contains what little important stuff he has gathered over the last five years. It might be a pretty long time, five years, but with the way Oliver has lived, he has learned to leave all he has behind whenever he has to flee, so what he has managed to hold onto is important to him.

Of course there’s his bow, the one that once belonged to Yao Fei, then shortly to Shado, a reminder of two of his mentors. The arrows that are with it have been made by him. He can’t ever use those arrows again, knowing they can be tracked down to Lian Yu, thus also to him, however, the thought of throwing them away is too much.

There’s the hozen in there too, the one that Shado gave him. They’ll never reconnect, not until Oliver follows her to the grave, but he cherishes it anyway. The hope of reconnecting that still lingered even in purgatory.

Alongside that there are two bottles in there too, one empty and one full.

The full one is filled with proper Russian Vodka, gifted to him by Anatoli, before leaving him on Lian Yu again. He told Oliver to take it, in case he became homesick, it’s surprising how much Oliver does feel homesick, despite going back to Starling.

The empty bottle, is one he collected from the fuselage, before allowing A.R.G.U.S. to take him back to the main land, so he could go to Russia to fulfill his promise to Taiana. It’s the empty bottle of Australian liquor that he drank with Sara and Slade, before it all went to shit. The last good memory he has of both of them. It’s sentimental, but he can’t help it. It was such an important part of his life and not having anything physical makes him feel like the memories will slip through his fingers until only the bad is left.

He also has some functional stuff in there, like the super herbs Yao Fei had, some stuff to make a fire and other tools. A basic kit to keep himself alive. A comfort to have for the worst case scenario.

If someone were to ever know about the contents of that chest, they’d probably think that the most important thing he has, is the book his father left behind. It has been something he carried on his person for all those years, his driving force before coming home, the promise he made to do better than his father. However, that person would be wrong. The most important thing Oliver has from those five years, is the small urn that holds a third of Akio’s ashes.

Oliver never thought he would have those. Mostly because he never thought that Akio would die, the young boy such a happy kid, so far away from what his parents and Oliver did. Despite being caught up in it, Akio never felt like he would die, but he has.

But even once he had, once Oliver felt that grief so deeply, he didn’t think he’d be worthy of it. He knows that Tatsu hated him for being a part of their lives and that Maseo was more annoyed with him than friendly. It wasn’t until those few days where the three of them went rogue to stop Shrieve that they became close.

Akio’s death hit all of them hard and having the brotherly role he took on for Akio be acknowledged by his parents after his death, pushed him to do what he had done to Shrieve, the anger at it all overtaking him as he let his inner darkness lead.

Back then, he saw how Akio’s death tore Tatsu and Maseo apart, their family breaking down. He would’ve given anything to fix it, to bring Akio back, but there was nothing to do.

A part of him thought of his family then, how his own death has affected them, but he couldn’t go home after that. He isn’t like Akio, young and innocent, he’s a killer.

But now he is here, coming home with his chest full of memories, being reunited with loved ones while Akio never will be.

It’s weird being home.

The house seems to have been stuck in time with only minor changes here and there. Back when he was here with A.R.G.U.S. it felt comforting, but now it’s strange. As if time hasn’t moved on here, while it did for him.

Yet, everything is different too. The people especially. Thea isn’t a child anymore and his mother has a heaviness in her shoulders, not to mention the new presence of Walter, whose stuff is scattered in the house too. It makes it all feel a little unreal, a shade off, a mimic of what he used to know.

He knows he’s different too, just like them, but he’s a new person, while they all seem close enough to who they used to be to give him an uncanny valley feeling.

His room feels the most normal. Like his mother had said, nothing has changed inside, making it feel like a shrine to the boy he used to be, the boy that died on that boat. It feels almost ritualistic to sit inside the corpse of who he used to be and go through that chest of things that he is, tainting the memory of his old self with who he is now.

It’s then that he sees Akio’s ashes again, having tried to forget about them for the past two years as he threw himself in danger to forget about who he had become.

Most of the stuff will go to his base of operation whenever he sets that up, both because of the usefulness of some things as well as to keep it all away from prying eyes. What he has gone through is private and he doesn’t want to share it with the people here, doesn’t want to bring those years home more than he already has.

However, it feels wrong to hide Akio like that. The kid was a bright light, someone good, not someone who lurked in the shadows. He shouldn’t be left in that chest in a warehouse somewhere out of shame. He should have a home.

Oliver takes out the small urn, cradling it in his hands carefully, as if it’s as fragile as a newborn baby.

With as much gentleness as his hands are still capable off, he takes it to his desk and puts it down. It immediately feels wrong, as if it’s some frivolous decoration in his lavish room. The nightstand and few shelves are also wrong.

Frustration wells up in him, as well as a deep heartache. He can’t even memorialize Akio right, what were they thinking entrusting him with such a precious thing?

He puts the urn back in the chest and gets behind his computer, researching Japanese funerary customs. Most things should happen in the first 100 days, which means Oliver has already missed all of them. Akio is also supposed to be in a family grave, but his family doesn’t exist anymore, having been ripped apart and scattered, much like Akio himself.

A thickness gathers in his throat, making it hard to swallow, but he pushes it all down. He can’t afford to break down, he isn’t worthy of grieving Akio, when he hasn’t done anything to honor the boy properly.

According to the article he found, there’s supposed to be a photo of Akio on the altar at home. He wonders if Tatsu or Maseo have one, or if Akio has gotten none of the rites he deserved.

Oliver himself might be able to get his hands on a photo of Akio, but he would have to involve someone and it’ll likely be a still from a security camera. All that, not to mention having the photo somewhere visible, would invite too many questions.

Still, the idea of an altar doesn’t leave him. He has also found some people saying that the Japanese burn incense for the dead, though it also might be more Chinese. Oliver feels so very out of his depth, but he’s trying so hard to do right by Akio. Maybe since the boy lived in China for a while, he would appreciate it?

So, when he is out in the town by himself, having ditched his new bodyguard Diggle, he gets wood as well, before going to the Foundry.

The dank basement feels more like home within seconds of him being there. He fits better in the shady base of operations than in the nice house 20 miles outside the city. If he makes it better, a little nicer, it’ll be a good place to honor Akio. Not what he deserves, but better than Oliver has given him before now.

It takes a few weeks, before he deems it all good enough. The club is still being built upstairs, but the basement is already done. It’s good. Not the warmest place, but functional and safe. Oliver feels safe. He hopes Akio will too.

He takes much care in constructing the altar, having researched it and learned that it’s called a Butsudan. It’s small and simple, Oliver hopes the care he put into it makes up for that.

Along with the altar, he has gotten a few boxes of incense sticks and a holder. He can’t risk the smell too much until the club opens and the smell of alcohol covers it, but he still burns one when he goes out that night, feeling much better than he has in a while. He knows he can never do enough, but he’s doing something.

When Diggle gets brought in, he doesn’t comment on the altar. The urn is small and doesn’t look too much like an urn as they know it here, so maybe he just thinks Oliver became spiritual while on the island. The herbs he has and the mention of Yao Fei doesn’t exactly discourage the notion, so Oliver lets him believe what he wants.

Neither of them speak about it, Diggle letting Oliver burn incense there without a complaint, until they bring in Felicity.

It has become normal for him to light an incense stick, before going out for the night. The space has become infused with the smell, making him faintly nostalgic for his time in Hong Kong, despite how it ended. It’s a comfort.

He doesn’t think much about doing it, the ordeal having become a ritual as much as suiting up and counting his arrows is. Until Felicity pipes up: “Is that a good luck thing or something? That wasn’t a judgment, by the way. Everyone has their superstitions, I mean, when I went to MIT I used to wear my good luck earrings to every exam. It just surprised me, since you’re, you know, always grumpy and practical. Not that there’s something wrong with that, you just don’t seem the type.”

Oliver lets her finish her babble, having clammed up when she mentioned it. Thinking about Akio still isn’t very easy for him, talking about him is even more difficult.

He doesn’t feel like explaining, doesn’t feel like opening that wound again and inviting all the questions about what he was doing in Hong Kong. Diggle might know that he wasn’t always on Lian Yu, but the can of worms shaped like Amanda Waller is one he’d like to keep closed.

However, he also thinks of what he’s read, the reasons he had for not having a picture of Akio. Now it seems Felicity might be his answer.

So, he answers: “It’s a Butsudan. It’s a Japanese Buddhist altar. They use it to pay respect to Buddha and family members that have died. The burning incense thing is more Chinese, to please the passed spirit.”

“I didn’t know you’re a Buddhist,” Felicity comments.

“I’m not.”

“Oh…”

It’s quiet for a second, none of the people there knowing how to continue. Felicity is too new and doesn’t know if she can push, while Oliver is awkward about communication in general, so it’s Diggle, who puts them all out of their misery. “So why the altar?”

“For Akio,” Oliver says, having to push himself to get the name over lips. “His family was Japanese, but they lived in Hong Kong.”

“Is this the you not always being on that island?” Diggle asks. “When you found your father’s message about his list.”

“It’s related,” Oliver doesn’t give much away.

“Wait, you weren’t always on the island?” Felicity interrupts, not having heard that before. “Did you start out in Asia? But then how would you get there? And why? Like-”

“Long story,” Oliver cuts her off, before she can gain steam. Before she can reply, he adds: “That I won’t tell.”

“Why not?” Felicity questions, always so ready to stand up to him when she doesn’t agree with him, despite her caution surrounding some topics.

“It’s classified.”

“Classified?” Diggle repeats, brow raised.

“Yes,” Oliver grits out, not liking the inquisition this has turned into. So he gives Akio one more glance, then pulls the hood up, allowing the monster to take over as he leaves the Foundry to put the fear of god and a few arrows in some rich socialite.

After that, he doesn’t feel like bringing it up. Those five years were his purgatory, the place between who he was and who he is. A liminal thing that is best not spoken off. The things he went through shaped him, but they aren’t things he wants to discuss.

It’s not until Vertigo comes back again and he is falling out with Tommy even more that the topic comes up again.

Lance has been furthering his hate campaign against both Oliver and Tommy, coming back with a warrant that forces Oliver to open up the door to the basement. A fear grips his heart, knowing what they will find down there, though he doesn’t show it.

It’s ridiculous to think, but Oliver hopes he’ll be able to claim that he didn’t know. Otherwise, he’ll just have to break out of prison, he’s used to life as a fugitive anyway.

His biggest fear is about everything of sentimental value he has down there. All the things that mean so much to him that will be taken to evidence lock up. God, what about Akio?

With a feet like cement, he follows Lance and Tommy down the stairs, Laurel and more boys in blue behind them. Tommy flicks on the power, saying something about how the place is a mess, but Oliver doesn’t hear a thing, too taken aback by the state of the basement.

Everything’s gone.

Tommy covered for him.

He’s been pissed at Oliver ever since he found out and it hasn’t been helped by the past day, but still he covered for him. It reminds him of when they were kids and a warmth spreads in his chest. Affection, a novelty still to feel that. To feel any positive feelings really.

“So if you don’t have anything to hide, why didn’t you want the inspector down here?” Lance asks, not ready to let it go.

Oliver is letting Tommy take the wheel completely here, the other has always been better at bullshitting and lying than he is. Indeed, Tommy has an answer ready: “Well, the ventilation system hasn’t been updated since the 60s. We really shouldn’t even be open.”

It’s clear Lance doesn’t like the fact that Tommy has an answer ready as much as Oliver does, so he jabs at something else. “So why does it smell like a temple in here? Are you trying to cover something?”

Again, Oliver is silent, but now for a very different reason. He’d been so glad that he wasn’t going to prison for the rest of his life, that he hadn’t thought about what Tommy might have done with his stuff. He removed everything, including Akio. Who knows where the urn might be now? Breathing is suddenly a little more difficult.

“We burned incense all around the property,” Tommy says. “The whole place smelled like old steel and pipes that had been leaking. Upstairs it all wafted away and got replaced by spilled beers, but down here? Like I said, the ventilation system is shit.”

It’s a good story, great even. Lance has nothing to say and leaves, obviously displeased as he goes up the stairs, men in tow.

Tommy and Laurel follow, the couple wanting to talk about what just happened. Normally, he would feel a stab at it. Though he’s fine with them dating, it takes time to get used to it. However, he’s too distracted now, staying downstairs to look for his stuff, desperately hoping to find Akio somewhere.

A few moments later, Tommy is back on the stairs, eyes following Oliver coldly and his arms crossed. After a beat, he asks: “Is there something you want to say to me?”

“Thank you,” Oliver throws back absentmindedly, still searching between the boxes as he starts to suspect his stuff has been taken off the property, hoping he’s wrong. He needs to see Akio, safe and okay. As soon as possible.

“No, I meant what you were thinking when Lance accused me of dealing drugs out of the club,” Tommy tells him, stalking over to him.

It’s not a conversation Oliver feels capable of having right now. The only stuff he still has an attachment to is gone, the things that make him feel safe, make him feel like himself, are gone. Akio is not there, the one important thing he has been able to do for the boy he failed, has disappeared, and he’s panicking.

“Where is my stuff?” he asks, not at all replying to what Tommy has just said.

“Really?” Tommy scoffs. “You’re not even going to admit to it?”

“Where’s my stuff, Tommy?” Oliver repeats, knowing he sounds a little desperate.

“I’m not telling you anything, until you have this conversation with me. How could you think that little of me? What have I done in the past six months since you’ve been home that made you think I could do such a thing?”

“You don’t understand, I need to know where it is,” Oliver says, gripping Tommy’s shoulders to look at him. “Please, just tell me. I just need to know about the wooden shrine, with the doors and the incense holder. There is this- it looks like a tin, or- or a can. Did you see it? Do you know where it is? I just need to know if it’s safe.”

Tommy is looking at him strangely, which Oliver can’t blame him for. Usually he hides his panic behind a mask of stoicism, but right now he’s incapable of that. He must look a little frazzled, maybe even visibly scared. Or crazed to go with Tommy’s other opinions of him.

“It’s with the other stuff all the way in the back in a box on the bottom,” Tommy answers still frowning. “And I was careful with all of it, I don’t know what kind of dangerous shit you have with all you do. I didn’t want to die while covering your ass.”

Oliver doesn’t even register how pointed the comment is, already having let go and halfway across the room.

It doesn’t take much effort to lift the top box off, so he can open the one underneath. The chest with all he holds dear is in it, with next to it the Butsudan with its doors closed, yet upright.

Carefully, he lifts it out of the box and puts it on the ground, before opening it up to check the inside. The urn is still upright and the lid still on it, nothing has been spilled. Akio is safe. Finally he can let out a relieved breath.

Needing to assure himself further, he takes the urn, hugging it to his chest as he closes his eyes briefly and bows his head. He doesn’t pray, god has long since abandoned him, but he does send a wish to Akio, the wish that he’s okay, wherever he might be.

Behind him, Tommy radiates confusion and maybe a little judgment. When Oliver doesn’t move, he snipes: “So, is finding that really more important than having a conversation about this? Is it a magic altar or something? Did you find the mystical arts alongside shooting people with a bow classes while you were away, is that it?”

Oliver decides that it’ll be better not to inform Tommy of the magic he indeed encountered while away. It probably won’t go over well to tell him one of the tattoos he has is magical. However, the comment still hurts a bit too and his brain is too overloaded to come up with anything other than: “It is… It’s Akio.”

“Akio? What’s that?” And it’s so weird to hear the name be said by anyone else. By Tommy. It doesn’t fit in his mouth, doesn’t fit in this city.

“He- uhm,” Oliver clears his throat. “I met him-” Fuck, he can’t tell Tommy this, he can’t tell him he was in Hong Kong, not when Tommy was there too, not when he’s mad and might tell everyone about it. On top of that, tears start to burn in his eyes.

Concerned and a little shrill, Tommy asks: “Akio was a person?”

Wordlessly Oliver nods, because he’s already said too much, but he also knows that whatever he says, it will never be enough.

“What the hell, man. I thought you were alone on that island.”

It’s a lot. It’s too much. The memories wash over him again and Tommy’s voice feels like an interrogation, as if he’s back in Hong Kong again. Back with Waller and A.R.G.U.S..

After some struggle, Oliver manages to choke out: “Was alone most of the time. He died.” The lie mixed with the bitter truth tastes foul in his mouth. How can he just erase Tatsu and Maseo from the story of their boy?

“And you just took his ashes with you and built a shrine?” Tommy asks, sounding as if he can’t believe what he’s saying, as if Oliver is a stranger to him.

“He’s Japanese, I wanted to give him a proper rest,” Oliver says.

“What happened to you out there?” Tommy asks, much like he had done during his welcome home bash. Tommy must realize that, because he adds: “And don’t feed me some bullshit line about just being happy to be alive.”

“Well you should be,” Oliver snaps, all his usual emotional defenses down until only anger remains in their place. He glares at Tommy, hackles raised. “Being alive is more of a privilege than you can ever imagine.”

As he talks he gets up from his knees, urn still cradled to his chest, but getting into Tommy’s face as he spits: “I don’t owe you jack shit about what happened to me. What I’ve seen out there, is nothing like you can imagine. It changes you in ways life here doesn’t.”

Tommy was stepping back, but now he gets right back in Oliver’s face, anger overtaking him as well. “So that’s it? You think I haven’t changed?”

“Before I left, you played hard. You played with bad people, who were into bad stuff.”

“So did you, Oliver. So, did you. And just because I haven’t gone through whatever you did, doesn’t make it that I can’t change. And just because you did, doesn’t mean you’re better than me,” Tommy yells.

Oliver just looks at him, flabbergasted. He is the worst. In what world does Tommy live in that he genuinely thinks that Oliver thinks he’s better than him?

When Tommy continues, his voice is low with an odd edge to it. “I have no idea what you’re capable off, if I’m going to be next on your list. You are a complete mystery to me. I have no idea how you find it so easy to kill people. So yeah, you don’t owe me jack shit about what happened to you, but next time you decide to think the worst of me, imagine what I now think of you.”

And with that, Tommy turns and walks away. As he walks, Oliver spots shaking hands that Tommy balls into fists, making him realize that the edge in Tommy’s voice was fear. Tommy is scared of him.

His fingers tighten involuntarily, reminding him of the urn he’s still holding. Back in Hong Kong he was arguably worse than he is now, but Akio never saw him like that. Akio was never scared of him, always trusted him and wanted to play with him. He misses that now, misses someone who was aware that he was doing some violent stuff with bad men, but who still liked him and trusted him to keep them safe.

The closest thing to Akio he has now is Felicity and even that isn’t the same, because she has been vocally against his violence on a few occasions.

Still, he doesn’t deserve her, much like he hadn’t deserved Akio. He’ll probably lead her right to her death, much like he does with everyone he comes in contact with. Tommy is smart to stay away, to be scared. He should be. They all should be.

He puts the Butsudan back where it always is, before leaving the basement behind him. He needs a drink or something.

Oliver is barely at the bar and pouring himself a drink when Diggle comes in, saying he saw an angry Tommy in the parking lot and wondering what his problem is. With the mindset Oliver’s in, it’s easiest to push everyone away and he does so to Diggle quite spectacularly.

The moment Diggle is gone, he hates himself again. These people put up with who he has become, who he is. Diggle most of all. And he gets it. Just like Oliver gets him. Gets not being able to move on until you’ve hurt someone as badly as you’ve been hurt, in a way it’s what this whole crusade is about. Not to mention what he did to Shrieve in Akio’s name.

However, he doesn’t know how to deal with any of that, beyond working and ignoring it. So he sets to work rebuilding the base into the safe zone it has always been, trying to stabilize himself once more by creating that comfort he associates with the space. And when Felicity arrives, he deflects about Diggle and goes on as usual, continuing the mission.

He’s beyond glad when Diggle still shows up to get his ass out of trouble when it proves to be more than he could handle. Though guilt tears him apart too. How is it that good people keep coming back for him? What has he done to deserve that?

He wants to do better, wants to be better. It doesn’t work with Tommy, but he’ll try again with Diggle. Because Diggle is a good person, who has done so much for him, and Diggle is a solider, who is capable of his own violence and understands why Oliver has to be violent sometimes too. He is the man who has his back and Oliver owes it to him to return that favor.

When Diggle easily puts sand over what passed between them, he is beyond grateful to him. Oliver isn’t sure where he’d be without Diggle in his corner.

The two have just made up when Felicity comes back down, saying: “Oh thank G-d. I was so worried about you fighting. I am horrible when people fight. Not to make it about me. Just happy you guys are friends again.”

Oliver smiles automatically, her babbles soothing to him in a way he can’t describe. Sincerely, he says: “Thank you, Felicity. For pointing Diggle my way.”

“Of course,” she smiles back at him, plopping down at the desk. She cracks her neck and stretches, before groaning: “Ugh, it’s going to be a long night, putting my whole set up back together.”

It’s not too late, the club hasn’t even opened fully yet and the fight had happened early. If it weren’t such an emotional night, he would have been suited up again to go out on a patrol. However, redoing the base will take them quite a bit and it won’t be the first late night Felicity has had since joining up. Guilt floods his chest.

“You can go home and we’ll set up,” Oliver offers. She has already done so much for him, he should easy her burdens where he can.

“Nuh-uh,” Felicity shakes her head vigorously. “Do you have any idea how much work I put into this set up? You’re good at your punchy-punch, but this requires delicacy and accuracy. You go use your sculpted muscles – very nice muscles – which are useful, useful is important here, shutting up about that now... Just use the- uhm, the muscles to reset the rest of the base.”

She’s slightly flushed at the end of it and Oliver can’t help but chuckle. His guilt is alleviated and he feels lighter than he has in a while, she always has that effect on him. The cloud shaped like Tommy still hangs over him, but he has hope now that it might turn out better later, after he’s given the other some air.

Diggle and Oliver carry around all the supplies Tommy had brought down there, while Felicity fiddles with her computers. The silence is companionable and they all enjoy it.

Felicity is done before them with the physical aspect, but is still setting up digitally when Oliver and Diggle wrap up their part. By unspoken agreement, the two settle in to wait until she’s done too, the three of them together remaking the base into a home.

Oliver gazes at the altar for Akio absentmindedly, letting the smell of incense invade his nostrils.

Telling Tommy about Akio today, though little and riddled with lies as it was, felt strange. Tommy obviously thinks he’s crazy for having shrine to a random person and it makes him wonder what his two partners must think. They have a little more information than Tommy, but not much more.

Today has shown him that trusting in his friends, opening up about himself, might be smart if he wants to avoid another fight like he had with Tommy.

Besides, he wants to do right by Akio, give him the proper rituals he would have had were he home in Japan. Felicity can get him a photo without it giving everything away. Not talking about Akio for his own comfort is selfish.

With a blink he refocuses his eyes, turning his gaze on Felicity. He speaks up: “Felicity?”

“Yeah?” she asks, looking up at him with questioning eyes. “What can I do you for? Not- not do you, but like what can I do for you. That wasn’t a pass.”

Her usual awkwardness soothes Oliver’s nerves a little. “I know,” he says with a small smile. “I was wondering if you could get me a photo of someone.”

“Sure, if they’ve ever been near a camera, I can do that. Whose photo do you need?”

Oliver takes a deep breath, then takes the plunge. “Akio Yamashiro. He lived in Hong Kong in 2010, but born in Japan. You won’t find records of him after that. I want one for the Butsudan.”

Felicity’s eyes grow wide at his request and he sees Diggle shift in his periphery. He knows they’ve been curious about him not always being on the island ever since he first mentioned it, so he steels himself for the questions.

They don’t come.

Instead, Felicity just nods and smiles: “Of course, Oliver,” as she starts to type, leaving Oliver confused as he stares at her.

His focus snaps to Diggle when the man snorts. After making a soft confused noise, Diggle explains: “You have a puppy like confused face, man. It’s kind of funny. We’re not gonna ask after classified things, I get it.”

“And I get not pushing sensitive emotional things with you, Mr. Grumpy,” Felicity adds. “You’ll tell us when you’re ready.”

A wave of affection crashes over him at that. These two people do so much for him, from the big things to the small things. They don’t expect him to be someone he’s not, they never knew him before and are patient in getting to know him now. Oliver doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to convey how much that means to him. With a tight voice he tries anyway. “Thank you.”

Diggle and Felicity both give him smiles, before they go back to their tasks; Felicity to her computers, while Diggle cleans his gun. Oliver could be sharpening arrows, but he enjoys the moment of peace too much.

The peace is broken a few minutes later by a gasp from Felicity that she quickly tries to muffle. She clears her throat, but keeps looking at the screen as she says: “I found some photos. Uhm, from- from his school, but also from security cams in Hong Kong, if you want to pick one.”

Oliver is out of his seat immediately, but approaches the desk cautiously. He hasn’t seen Akio’s face in years.

On the screen, Akio stares back at him, the image punching the air out of his lungs. He looks exactly like Oliver remembers, happy and a little mischievous, even in the school picture from 2008. It’s from Japan, before the Yamashiro family was relocated to Hong Kong.

However, what catches his eye the most are the security camera stills. The ones are likely from A.R.G.U.S. or Shrieve’s operation, on the record only because they’d been used as blackmail or to track them all. Whatever the case may be, his eyes can’t help but be glued to them.

Diggle appears behind him, taking in a sharp breath as he sees the photos the other two are looking at.

There’s one of Maseo hoisting Akio in the air, a happy smile on his face, while in the background Tatsu watches them fondly from her seat on a bench. Another one is of Akio at an intersection, holding one of Tatsu’s hands while she carries a bag of groceries in the other. The one that catches his eye the most though, is of Akio in the botanical garden of Hong Kong, happily talking about seeing his parents soon.

Oliver knows, he remembers that moment, he himself is in the background of that still. It must have been from seconds before they spotted the bad men, as Akio called them, when they were forced to flee again. One of the last days Akio was alive.

It hits him all over again that Akio is dead. That he’s never coming back. That Oliver was too late to stop that outbreak and now he’ll never go to the botanical garden with his parents again.

Without his permission, a tear slides down his face. He has never allowed himself to cry for Akio, never allowed himself to grieve properly, too much blame on his shoulders. He still carries that blame now, but the emotions overwhelm him at seeing Akio once more and he can’t stop them.

He doesn’t sob, doesn’t even cry properly – at this point, he doesn’t know if he can still cry properly at all – just stares as tears leak down his face, as if his eyes are faulty faucets.

It takes him a while, before he gathers himself enough to say: “I- I’d like to have the school picture and the one in the bo-” a shuddering breath “-botanical garden.”

Wordlessly Felicity sends them to the printer, a hush hanging over the room. Softly and gently, Felicity breaks it, saying nothing more than: “He was nine.”

She sounds shocked and horrified, and Oliver realizes that neither of them knew who Akio was, that they probably assumed he was an adult like Oliver, that they worked together or something and that he died on a mission. Not this. Not the horrid truth that a child had been caught in the cross hairs of Oliver’s world and died as a result.

“I worked with his father,” Oliver replies, feeling the need to explain. “He and his wife housed me while I was there. I was Akio’s- I was… I was his big brother.”

“Says he died as a result that chemical accident, you were there for that?” Felicity asks, not to pry, but to understand, to give him room to process it verbally should he want to. Oliver can tell she doesn’t expect a reaction.

“Not an accident,” he grits out, all the anger at Shrieve and Waller rising back up inside of him as he hears the cover up.

“That the classified thing you can’t talk about?” Diggle comments, immediately picking up on the implication.

Oliver nods curtly.

His throat is now completely closed up and he knows he can’t say another word, even if he wanted to. Akio’s death was a result of a mission he couldn’t complete, a mission he failed. He came back to Starling with another mission. He can’t fail it. He can’t fail it like he did this one. No innocents will get hurt because of him ever again.

Tommy might not know who he is anymore, might think he’s a monster that kills so easily, and while it is true that death comes swiftly in his hands, Oliver knows that Tommy never has to fear him. He’d never hurt someone defenseless, much like he couldn’t kill the Count today. He wasn’t enough to protect Akio, but he will be enough for everyone else.

With that, he turns away from the screens. He will be enough for everyone, but it won’t change what happened to Akio. The failure weighs heavily on him and he needs a moment to process and reset.

Oliver leaves the Foundry without another word, driving himself home and crawling under his covers. Tonight the Hood doesn’t grace the city with his presence, tonight Oliver finally lets himself grieve.

The next day, he comes back to their base, unsure of how the others will act. Diggle keeps up his professionalism when they’re out and about, but in here he becomes his friend instead of bodyguard and that changes things.

But neither of them say anything. It seems they meant it when they told him they won’t ask him about it. It’s weirdly comforting to be allowed to go at his own pace.

Though it appears that not asking about it, doesn’t mean not acting. The pictures he chose yesterday are on the shrine, both of them framed in beautiful, fitting frames. It looks like a proper memorial, like the resting place Akio deserves. He nearly chokes up again at the sight.

He doesn’t thank them for it, but he’s sure it shows on his face with the way they smile kindly at him.

After that everything unravels quickly. The conspiracy behind his father’s book becomes clearer and clearer, until it is a race against the clock to save the city.

Watching part of the Glades go down from a rooftop and then finding Tommy in the rubble, slowly bleeding out, makes him flash back to Hong Kong. How the three of them worked so hard to stop it, failing and walking through the aftermath, but thinking their loved ones were safe, only to return and find that to be false.

Oliver sits next to Tommy and weeps, weeps until he has to flee, even doing that clumsily, because he can’t look past his tears. Tommy is gone. His best friend is gone. How can he live in a world without Tommy in it? How did Tommy do it when he went missing? How could he bear it?

On autopilot he goes back to the base, praying to find it semi in tact. If he comes home to find Felicity buried, he isn’t sure what he’ll do.

The structure is thankfully still standing and he stumbles inside and down the stairs, needing to see her right now.

He finds her, still sitting under her desk, likely hiding under something heavy just in case the whole thing came down.

His eyes zero in on her arms, a tidal wave of emotions overtaking him when he sees that she’s cradling Akio’s ashes and the pictures of him, making sure they were safe and wouldn’t fall from their shrine during the quake.

Felicity kept Akio safe when he couldn’t. He wasn’t there for Akio when he needed him. Again. Just like he wasn’t there for Tommy. Like he wasn’t there for all those people buried in the rubble out there, dead because he was too late to stop it all.

He came back to Starling to complete his mission, to save the city, to do right by everyone like couldn’t for Akio. But he hasn’t done anything right. Hundreds are dead because of him. Tommy is dead because of him. He has failed. Again. He can’t save anyone and he doesn’t know why he ever thought he could. He’s a monster, made to destroy. Not some hero.

His eyes meet Felcity’s, she starts to say something, but before she can, he turns around and leaves, not sparing her another glance.

Oliver doesn’t stop moving. He keeps running, running away from the memories of Akio, from the city filled with tragedy, from the fact that there will be a funeral held for Tommy. He barely stops for long enough to make sure his mom and sister are safe, before he runs the final stretch, right back to hell, to Lian Yu; the punishment he deserves.

It takes him months and a lot of convincing to leave the island behind him again. Lian Yu has become his home and his prison. If he were to leave, it is with the knowledge that he will never try his hand at being a hero again. It was on Lian Yu that he was first shaped into what he is now, into a monster. Being back here served as a reminder that he can’t change that about himself and he shouldn’t try.

Heroes tragically sacrifice themselves for others, they don’t make it home. Survivors make it home and they do so, because they’ve become killers. Oliver should keep reminding himself that he is a survivor, not a hero.

However, the city has not gotten better in his absence. In fact, people have taken his failed attempt at trying to better it, to make it worse. It’s oddly poetic, in a way.

At first, Oliver wants nothing to do with it. He keeps reminding himself of the lesson his self enforced exile was supposed to teach him. But these Hoods make it very hard. They’re his creation, he should do something about them.

The moment he gives in, Felicity is grinning, pulling him down the stairs to show him her remodeling.

The renovations take his breath away. Instead of a dark basement that could be the hide out of any common criminal with sense, it’s a sleek base of operations… a home. It feels right, if he wants to do things differently this time.

As he inspects everything, his eyes fall on the spot where the Butsudan was. It’s still there, though replaced by a nicer and slightly bigger altar. On it are the pictures of Akio and his ashes, however, they’re now joined by a photo of Tommy as well.

Felicity notices him watching and hugs his arm as she says: “We kept the incense burning while you were away.”

A lump forms in Oliver’s throat at the news. He had always thought he would have to do it alone, that no one would get it and join his mission, that the only time he would have allies was during those five years, when he was a monster working with other monsters, while the few good people that were there died.

However, Dig and Felicity prove him wrong. They have made themselves at home next to him, continuing in his absence. It’s almost effortless how they’ve fit themselves amongst the important stuff he has gathered over the years. How they expanded what he held dear until it can’t fit inside a chest anymore.

Oliver is forever grateful to them. Especially for keeping Akio’s memorial going. He hopes the boy is proud of what he is doing there, that he’s happy Oliver is still making sure the bad men won’t get anyone.

~~

A/N:

I don’t think I’m ever going to be normal about the fact that Oliver has a part of Akio’s ashes, that those were given to him. Like can you imagine? The fact that they never mention that again is wild to me. He has hIS ASHES!

Also, disclaimer: I am not Asian, so while I did try and research Japanese (and a little Chinese) funerary rites, I claim no expertise, so all of the info is what I found online, if someone knows more and wants to share, I’d love to learn more :D

[rowinablx]

What I've recently written for the Lauriver Twilight au

@axelwolf8109 @swifteforeverandalways @greek-freak101 @watermeezer

The game screeched to a halt, the siblings exchanging confused glances as they turned to face Thea. She was standing in the center of the field, her eyes closed and her hands held out to her sides as if she was listening to something only she could hear. The air around her seemed to vibrate with tension.

Oliver's gaze snapped to Laurel, his eyes wide with alarm. Without a word, he strode over to her, pulling her into his arms and pressing his nose to her neck. Laurel felt a strange warmth spread through her as he inhaled deeply, his breath hot against her skin. "What are you doing?" she whispered, her heart racing.

Oliver pulled back, his eyes a fiery gold. "They can't know," he murmured, his voice urgent. "They can't smell you." He leaned in again, this time pressing his lips to her neck in a gentle, almost chaste kiss. The sensation was unlike anything Laurel had felt before—like a whisper of heat and the promise of something more. She shivered, her eyes fluttering closed.

Lois's voice cut through the moment. "Oliver," she called out, a hint of annoyance in her tone. "We need to get ready."

Oliver nodded, his gaze never leaving Laurel's as he stepped back, his hand lingering on her shoulder. "Come with me," he murmured, his voice a warm caress against her skin.

[m-cristiny]

Arrow 🏹

[erraticrandomficwriter]

Regina Knight - Where Loyalties Lie

An Arrow OC/In Progress Arrow Fic

[madwomanwithawarehouse]

Inside Thoughts, Outside Words

“When I pictured you naked, there was a lot less blood involved and definitely no needles.” OR Felicity doesn't understand why everyone's making such a big deal about the universal experience of attraction to Sara Lance

Read on ao3

[maximumcollectorgardenerposts]

Green Arrow, cyberpunk-style

[thatfanfictiongirl76]

Arrow Rec-- Argus Era Year Three

Year 3 of the island was honestly my favorite year. I just fell in love with Secret Agent Oliver, and was surprised by how few fics there are that are set during that time. But I did manage to find a few, so here is a rec of my favorites.

Mix Tape: Side A

By: KayleeThePete

https://archiveofourown.org/works/2681957

Summary: Felicity ends up making a few less than clean hacks after Cooper’s supposed death and ends up being coerced into working for ARGUS, and Amanda Waller has the perfect partner for her…

My Comments: This fic is set during year three of the island, where Felicity is there for Hong Kong and she’s paired up with Oliver working for ARGUS. I have to say that I fell in love with this fic. Year three was always my favorite part of the island. And I love secret agent Oliver as well. Even though there are only five chapters (6th is an author’s note) this fic is to die for. Kaylee is doing a rewrite of this fic, of which there is only one chapter of, but even so I’ll link it down below. Also for the word count, I subtracted the author’s note from the one AO3 has, so that’s why it’s different. Also Kaylee has both the original and repeat posted on ff.net, so I’ll link those down below

Status: Incomplete

Last Update (Rewrite): 2/2/20��

Length (Original): 22,986 words

Rewrite: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22532464

Ff.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10854075/1/Mixed-Tape-Side-A-see-AN

Ff.net Rewrite: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13491817/1/Mixed-Tape-Side-A

Before the World Wakes   

By: ForeverFelicityQueen

https://archiveofourown.org/works/4799705

Summary: Tommy Merlyn doesn't believe Oliver Queen is dead, despite his best friend having gone missing over two years ago. He needs proof, one way or another; so when he encounters Felicity Smoak, the witty computer genius, the pair criss-cross the globe on a mission to discover the truth about what happened when the Queen's Gambit went down.

My Comments: This is a good fic! I love the romance between Oliver and Felicity and Felicity and Tommy. The ending is okay, but I get that the Author was setting up the next fic in the series. I highly recommend this one, it’s sure to keep you on the edge of your seat.

Status: Complete

Length: 159,254 words

Series: https://archiveofourown.org/series/649364

Sequel:

In the Wake of Yesterday -- http://archiveofourown.org/works/11106885  

Wake the Storm -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/19084342

The Knight of Swords and the Queen of Cups

By: Sec982

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32152738

Summary: In a world where everyone has a soulmark on their wrist, Felicity Smoak chooses to ignore her own. She's too busy starting her career and explaining to her mother that she doesn't want to read Tarot cards like her grandmother did. Then one night, while working late, she draws the Knight of Swords, a card of impulsive action. She takes it as clear evidence that the tarot cards do not work. She dismisses it and takes a memo up to the CEO's office, where her own knight of swords comes crashing into her life in an irreversible way.

My Comments: I absolutely love this fic. It definitely keeps you on the edge of your seat! I love anything with soulmates, so combining that with Olicity and year three of the island was just a dream come true. I definitely recommend giving this one a read. There is a sequel that goes into year 4 that is amazing as well. I will link that down below.

Status: Complete

Length: 63,738 words

Series: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2804680

Sequel: Saving the Knight of Swords -- https://archiveofourown.org/works/37639039

Tomorrow Will Be Different

By: Schrijverr

https://archiveofourown.org/works/56013616

Summary: Instead of managing to meet up later, Oliver has to keep running with Akio. The only way to keep them safe is to go public with Oliver being alive, leaving him back home in charge of Akio, while Tatsu and Maseo are still in the wind. Oliver has to get used to being back home where he doesn’t fit anymore, while also taking care of a child and getting caught up in a larger conspiracy that keeps the existence of the Alpha-Omega virus secret. In the meantime, his primary mission is to reunite Akio with his parents, something that isn’t the easiest when being back from the dead and in the spotlight.

My Comments: This is an ongoing fic that I absolutely love. I loved the bond between Akio and Oliver, and seeing it build and play out is just wonderful. I also love Oliver trying to adapt to life back home after everything he’s been through. The author updates this fic fairly regularly so be sure to keep an eye on it.

Status: Complete

Length: 69,221 words

[atlasalexanderwrites]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Arrow (TV 2012) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Malcolm Merlyn/Original Female Character(s) Characters: Malcolm Merlyn, Original Female Character, Moira Queen, Thea Queen, Oliver Queen Additional Tags: Original Queen Character - Freeform, adapted from a reader x character series, sorry about any weird pacing or characterization, im still working out a few things, but wanted to try my hands at some malcolm merlyn shit, not slow burn but not not slow burn, smut in later chapters, please hang in there while i get through the early stages of this story and stumble my way through, i do NOT condone Malcolm Merlyn's general behaviors, he's a bit manipulative we all have to admit that, even if he's gorgeous, these tags are a hot mess, ill fix them eventually, im WAY too used to tumblrs tagging system Summary:

Charlotte Queen had always been the most responsible of Robert Queen's three children. She never stepped a toe out of line and was a great example for Oliver and Thea. And then the Gambit went down and her father and brother were killed at sea. One overheard conversation leads Charlotte to act very out of character and alters the rest of her life.

Follow Charlotte through a poorly executed confrontation with Malcolm Merlyn, a quickly evolving relationship with the head of Merlyn Global, the return of Oliver Queen to Starling City, and beyond.

[imherethephantom]

The Unimaginable: Chapter 1

Humanitarian of the Year

November 2016

She was gorgeous, but then again, she always was.

On the other side of the banquet hall, with a seemingly never ending gap of white tablecloths, fine china, and old men in their finest suits separating them, he still noticed her. He probably always would.

Oliver’s chest ached like a Mirakuru soldier just walloped him right in the sternum. He zeroed in on Felicity as she looked around the large room, taking in the stage with the transparent podium, the string quartet in the far corner, and the other attendees.

His foot took a step towards her, almost as if her gravitational field was pulling him in, before he forced himself not to take another. Longing enveloped his heart. He waited with bated breath when her eyes swept around the room, almost like she was looking for someone.

Did she bring a date?

Oliver waited, holding his breath when Felicity finally settled her eyes on him. He could have sworn that her eyes met his from across the room. Like a cheesy movie, everything else seemed to melt away except for her. He saw her lips form into a frown right before someone greeted him.

“Congratulations Mr. Queen!” A hand jovially slapped his shoulder, drawing his attention away from her. “I can’t believe that you’d be the one receiving the award this year.”

He growled, nearly ripping the man’s hand away. Instead, he grabbed a champagne flute from a passing waiter to keep his hands occupied. He barely noticed when the bubbling liquid sloshed over the side, his fingers becoming drenched. His eyes followed her every movement like she was his latest target.

Oliver vaguely heard his sister do damage control, engaging the older man in pointless small talk. He continued to stare at Felicity as she started threading her way between the tables.

In the back of his mind, he knew that he was - in Felicity’s words - attending the ‘‘schmooze fest’ and paying compliments to everyone who wanted to speak with him. This ceremony was supposed to be a way for him to keep Queen Consolidated from sinking.

He knew that, and somewhere inside him, he cared about his family’s company, but right now... it was like Felicity had his complete and undivided attention.

He didn’t even know that she was going to attend this. She always hated going to these things.

If she felt his eyes practically burning a hole to the center of her back, she did a fine job of not showing it.

He remembered the last time she wore that black floral dress. It still fit her the same. It still accentuated her curves. As she turned away from him, making casual small talk with some old sleazy one-percenter, he got a full view of her from behind. 

Yes, it still accentuated all of her curves.

As the night progressed, he barely paid attention to the wrinkled, dry hands shaking his, to the words of congratulations, not knowing what he said in acknowledgement. He gave half-hearted thanks, trying his best to keep her in his peripheral.

His sharp, blue eyes tracked her as she made a wide berth around the room; she was probably the only person who didn’t want to approach him. 

Waiting for the ceremony to start was absolute torture, because all he wanted was to get one minute alone with her, but no one would leave him alone. How could he get away from them when he was the center of attention?

Oliver caught sight of Felicity as she laughed with the CEO of Starling National Bank, joked with Walter, and talked business to seemingly every one-percenter who wasn’t him.

He watched as she gave a friendly hug to Tommy, and how her smile cracked when his best friend gestured to him from the opposite side of the room.

Was she going to finally talk to him?

Oliver took a chance, daring to finally give in to the pull of her gravitational field, but this time he chose to keep his distance.

He nervously tugged on his black bowtie, feeling like he could breathe easier now that it was slightly loosened. Now that the ball was in his court, he wasn’t sure how she would react. As he approached, he saw her lips give Tommy a polite smile, smoothly taking a champagne flute and giving an appreciative nod of thanks to a passing waiter. Her hands didn’t gesticulate wildly. She was composed, her words perfectly enunciated with not a babble in sight.

He saw glimpses of this Felicity after the media confronted them, after they sought shelter at the Queen Mansion.

This Felicity was tough. Hard as nails. A fighter.

Felicity Smoak was every bit her public persona tonight, and he was one hundred percent sure it was because of him.

It had been monthssince he last spoke to her. There was just... too much history between them to forget. Before he knew it, he was dead set on closing the distance between them, but this time a familiar hand latching onto his shoulder stopped him. 

“Oliver, you can talk to Felicity later.” Digg advised. “I strongly suggest-”

“What, Diggle?” He growled. The ache in his chest combined with Digg’s hand almost restraining him forced him in place.

“It’s time for you to go backstage, Mr. Queen.” Digg ordered, leaving no room for argument.

Great. Just... great.

Oliver forced himself to tear his eyes away from Felicity and Tommy. He made a mental note to talk to Tommy as soon as this was all over. Glancing at his watch, he saw that it was almost seven. Deciding to listen to his pretend bodyguard, he drained his glass, putting it on a nearby table. He pivoted and headed to the back of the stage.

Maybe he’d have the chance to talk to her after the speech.

Forcing Felicity from his mind, he pulled out a folded piece of paper from his pocket and concentrated on the speech he was going to give. He didn’t notice Felicity politely excusing herself, draining the last of her champagne and unknowingly following him from the opposite side of the room.

Making his way backstage, he stood behind the blue and white curtain, keeping himself from view. His eyes roamed over his sister’s handwriting, hoping he wouldn’t mess this up. 

He sighed, glancing up, and saw her on the opposite end of the stage.

Oliver blinked, his speech instantly forgotten.

She took his breath away.

Felicity must not have seen him; she blew out a breath, crossing her arms, manicured nails tapping nervously against her clutch.

It was just them.

“Felicity?” He finally walked towards her, putting the speech back in his pocket. His head tilted to the side, the ache in his chest increasing as the distance between them decreased. He suddenly didn’t know what to do now that she was here. Should he hug her? Wave? Shake her hand?

“Oliver.” She said in a I-really-don’t-want-to-talk-to-you-right-now-but-I-guess-I-have-to kind of way. Her brilliant blue eyes tracked him calculatingly, almost warily, and he settled for holding his hands out in surrender. “...How are you?”

He thought she was gorgeous from far away, but now? Up close?

Felicity’s hair was done in loose curls that framed her face. Her make up was pristine, highlighting her soft features, her lips a luscious red that stood out vibrantly against her dark dress.

She was beautiful. So damn beautiful.

His chest tightened in a completely different way.

“I’m...” He trailed off, shaking his head. He wanted to say so much to her. He wanted to tell her about the new team, how Tommy and Thea were bonding over their mutual hatred of their father, how much he missed having her on the comms every night. “You know me.” Oliver shuffled his feet, crossing his arms. “What... what are you doing here?” He asked, keeping his tone friendly.

“Did the Municipal Group not tell you?” Seeing the blank look on his face, she muttered, “They didn’t. Of course they didn’t.”

“Tell me what?” When she didn’t immediately reply, averting her gaze, he prodded, “Felicity?”

She wrung her hands together. “You know what’s really, really ironic? Like that Alanis Morissette song?”

He watched as his Felicity came back to him. Maybe it was because they were alone, or she wasn’t in the immediate public eye, but... her public persona melted away. 

When was the last time they were able to have a civil conversation in private?

Hope soared in his chest. It continued to soar with every word that she said as she started to babble. Like old times.

“Boy, you are going to get a kick out of this because it’s either ironic or the Municipal Group suddenly decided to have a twisted sense of humor but... I’m presenting the Humanitarian of the Year Award. To you.”

“Oh.” He replied.

How else was he supposed to respond?

She took a small step forward, and he caught the look of doubt on her face. “Are you... okay with that?”

He thought his mother or sister was going to present it... but if Felicity being the presenter meant that they could have this moment together, then it would be worth it, despite the publicity they were going to get.

A detached part of him realized that the Municipal Group wanted to make a scandal - to see how Starling City’s Favorite Couple, or Ex-Couple would deal with something as public as the Humanitarian Ceremony.

Maybe he wasn’t meant to receive this award... Maybe it was all some sort of political scheme, with his mother rerunning for mayor and with Felicity’s rising company.

Still...

“I’m glad you’re the one presenting.” Oliver smiled, and she gave him a nervous smile in return. She seemed like she could feel the awkward tension surrounding them like a fog. He hesitated. “Although... I’m actually surprised you’re here.”

Felicity drew back a bit, like he struck a nerve before she composed herself. She picked her words carefully. “I talked to Tommy earlier. He said you’re doing better.” She gave him a sad smile. “I mean, you must be, for getting the Humanitarian of the Year Award. Congrats, by the way.”

He nodded his thanks, slowly putting his hands in his pockets, pressing the speech between his fingers. “How have you been?” Curiosity piqued at him. It had been months since they saw each other, years since they actually talked. Not unless you counted the one time they saw each other in July. “It seems like Smoak Tech is doing well.”

A relieved look passed over her features as if she was happy that they were sticking to safe topics. “Yes, we finished the initial testing of our first security system. I’m planning on doing a trial run with some companies next year.”

“That sounds... great.” When she bit her lip, he continued. “You know, Felicity, if you wanted to test it at Queen Consolidated, you’re more than welcome.”

She looked shocked, but thankful. “I- yeah. I know. I just... with everything that happened...”

He inwardly cursed himself at the reminder. Rumors would fly if Queen Consolidated and Smoak Technologies worked together.

His publicist would probably have a heart attack.

An uncomfortable silence fell over them.

Her blue eyes dropped down to his bowtie, a small frown tugging at her lips. “We need a room.” She stated.

Oliver raised an eyebrow, trying to keep the smile from curling onto his face but failing.

She flinched, replaying what she said again. “You, of all people, should know I didn’t mean it like that.”

The smile remained on his face when she swiftly turned on her heel, pulling back the curtain and asking someone with a clipboard for a private space. 

They were instantly led to a small alcove a short distance away from the stage.

Felicity pressed her clutch into his hands, and he held it on instinct, weighing it in his hands. It was lighter. He remembered how she kept her tablet tucked away there in case there was an Arrow mission.

The fact that it was lighter, that she didn’t carry her tablet anymore... that hit him harder than he expected. He sighed.

Felicity took another small step forward, getting into his personal space, and he let her, forcing the morose thoughts out of his mind.

She murmured, “Hold on, your tie is loose...”

He was glad that no one was there, or else they would notice how closely they were standing.

As she tugged it loose, he quickly glanced down at it before returning his eyes to her. Sighing with a look of exasperation, she asked, “What did you do to it?”

“I...” He searched for something to say. “It was choking me.”

Felicity tried to hide her smile by scoffing. She could always see through his bullshit lies from the moment they met. “Uh-huh. Sure. You can admit that you always had trouble with the bowtie ones. It’s not a secret to me, you know.”

“Guess some things don’t change.” Oliver grinned down at her.

Felicity’s eyes flickered up to his, her hands pausing for a second from where she tugged his collar up. He watched her eyes narrow in suspicion, no doubt wondering if he was referencing something else...

“You always fixed them for me, regardless.” Oliver clarified, his voice wistful as she adjusted the length, making one end longer. He remembered how she pulled up a Youtube video before they went to that fundraiser for the Cancer Society when they started dating four years ago. Had it really been that long? “When was the last time you did this?”

He knew she heard the longing in his voice when her shoulders tightened. She didn’t look up at him, tugging one end under the other and pulling it up, draping it over his shoulder.

“The funeral.” Felicity whispered brokenly.

He closed his eyes, her sequined clutch biting into his fingertips. How could he forget? Guilt chewed his insides. “I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine.” Felicity’s voice wobbled slightly, and he wanted her to confide in him, to let him in even for just one minute, but he knew she wouldn’t. Not now that she was protecting herself, or trying to keep some semblance of her public persona in place.

Still, he had to try. “How are you dealing with-?”

“Oliver,” she snapped. “I said it’s fine.”

He wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. He didn’t want to anger her, especially not now.

She’d probably strangle him if he pushed her too far.

“Where’s Moira when you need her?”

His brow furrowed, breaking him out of his thoughts. “What?”

“I figured she’d teach you how to tie these damn things by now.” She muttered under her breath, folding one part over. 

“You can talk to her, you know that, right?” He kept his voice soft, trying to meet her eyes. “You didn’t have to cut us off when you left.”

Felicity bit her lip, and he could have sworn he felt her hands tremble.

He sighed. Choosing to back off - this was neither the time nor place - he picked a lighter topic. One that hopefully didn’t bring up bad memories. “Can you imagine what the tabloids would say if mayor Moira Queen still ties CEO Oliver Queen’s ties?”

Her blue eyes narrowed, studying him before seemingly coming to the same conclusion, almost like she could read his thoughts. 

Don’t talk about the elephant in the room.

“That’s something I’d love to see.” Felicity spoke slowly, almost like she was testing the waters. “I’d be willing to bet there’s some Queen Mansion video footage I can get my hands on.”

He huffed out a laugh. “You’d lose that bet.”

“Darn.” After a brief pause, she said, “It couldn’t be worse than the drama surrounding us.” A tiny smile blossomed on her face. She started to relax around him as she continued working on his tie. 

It seemed like the only thing that didn’t change was that the gossip sites and tabloids still loved them, even after four years.

“The drama surrounding us is a minefield. That witch from Starling’s Stars kept on asking me if we’re back together.” Felicity rolled her eyes. “Most of the paps kept on shouting similar things to me when I arrived tonight.”

“Me too.” He murmured. “The vultures are having a field day with that.”

He frowned, remembering how the paparazzi swarmed them two years ago. How they got a rise out of Felicity. How they had to seek solace at the Queen mansion to keep out of the public eye.

“We’ve both dealt with the latter countless times over the past couple years.” She smiled thinly up at him, her eyes twinkling with a hint of sadness. Her fingers momentarily stopped to lift his chin slightly before working on the knot that he always cursed. “Pretty sure having Moira doing your bowties would ruin your reputation.”

A smile tugged at his lips. “My reputation as CEO or as the other guy?”

Felicity leaned in with a mischievous glint in her eye, conspiratorially whispering, “Oh, definitely the other guy.”

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head, his eyes softening as he looked at her.

He suddenly couldn’t remember the last time she smiled at him like that, the last time they could joke like this.

Before the divorce, that’s for sure.

Felicity looked up, her lips parted like she was about to reprimand him for moving, but her eyes flitted over his face, almost like she was looking at him in a new light.

As his eyes met hers, he could have sworn that time stopped. Nothing else mattered except having her this close again. The speech didn’t matter. The politics of this night didn’t matter. Their divorce didn’t matter.

Because she was here right now. And he’d give almost anything to keep her here. Just like this.

His fingers tightened on her clutch, suddenly wanting to touch her. Hers dared to tilt his chin upward, breaking their eye contact. 

“You know the drill. No moving.” Felicity admonished him quietly, lightly patting his chest.

He was taken back to the first time she said those same words as she tied his bowtie in his bedroom, to the numerous times she did it for him when they were dating and when they were married with all the black tie events they had attended to keep the Queen family image intact. 

He wondered if she was also thinking of how similar the circumstances were, but how different they were.

Was it just him, or was she becoming more like the Felicity he knew?

He hoped so.

As he took a deep breath, he absently noted that she kept her perfume the same after all these years. With a sigh, he let it out, standing still, letting himself relax in her presence.

Oliver wondered if she still felt that connection between them. If they still had that connection that tied them together, some sort of invisible string that tied him to her... He wondered if she too was lost in the memories of the past.

Even with their separation, they still knew each other, their bodies still recognized each other. So when his ex-wife got into his space, he instantly relaxed. God, he missed her. Oliver was sure she’d be able to see it in his eyes if she actually looked up at him.

But her eyes were pinned to the black piece of silk fabric.

Still, he was thankful. The Humanitarian of the Year couldn’t go out in front of Starling City’s top one percent and give his acceptance speech with a messed up bow tie. His heart swelled for the woman in front of him, that she was willing to do something like this for him after all this time. That she still cared, despite everything that happened between the two of them.

Choosing to ignore the way his insides twisted, he asked her, “Are you ready to give your introductory speech?” Felicity kept her eyes glued to his bowtie, and he resisted the urge to gently press his lips to her forehead like he used to. He thought that she was just nervous, so he said, “Hey, you’ll be fine. I’m sure it’ll be great.”

She gave him a barely there smile in return.

Letting out a sigh, he could feel the words form at the tip of his tongue, his eyes softening. He felt her fingers pause as she folded down his collar, heard her breath hitch slightly, saw the way her eyes creased in sadness.

It was so slight that if she wasn’t in his space, he probably wouldn’t have noticed.

But he did.

And because she paused, he tensed, forcing himself to not say the words.

Felicity knew him, too. And because she knew him, she flinched.

He knew that she knew what he was going to say. They’ve said it countless times when they were together.

The words echoed around them. The two sentences were as loud as the silence between them. With silence between them, the air surrounding them became almost like a thick fog.

Her soft fingers brushed over the hair at the nape of his neck as she finished putting the silk fabric perfectly in place, but now Felicity steadfastly refused to look at him. 

Oliver closed his eyes, and he felt the air around him shift before her hand was a feather light touch against his cheek. Daring to lean into her hand, he relished in her warmth, feeling her hand lightly trace his scruff. He slowly opened his eyes, breathing out her name, begging her to look at him.

When her eyes finally met his, time stopped, and he wondered if she still wanted to go back in time to how things were before.

“Oliver... please.”

As if that was the signal, they immediately looked away. Clearing his throat, he returned her clutch before taking a step away from her, letting her hand fall back down to her side. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She replied just as softly.

Their gazes lingered on each other. 

“A lot has changed in the last four years.”

“I never would have thought that we’d get here.” The look she gave him was indecipherable. Did she miss him? Did she still think about him? Did she regret divorcing him?

Oliver opened his mouth to ask... what? If they could try again? He fought the urge to tug his bowtie loose and ruin her hard work, suddenly feeling like it was choking him once more. What do you say to someone you’ve rarely seen in two years?

“Mrs. Queen?”

They both turned to look at the speaker - the guy with the clipboard. Oliver’s eyes darted to Felicity, her face suddenly pale. Her fingers turned white against her clutch.

A shot of protectiveness rose in Oliver. He had the irrational urge to grab the clipboard and hit him with it.His voice dropped to rival the tone of his voice modulator. “What do you want?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ms. Smoak.” The guy corrected himself as he fumbled for words, holding the clipboard like a shield to protect himself. He gulped nervously. “We... we’re starting shortly. Ms. Smoak needs to give her introductory speech, then you will give your acceptance speech.”

He nodded, silently telling him to leave. As the guy scurried away and stood by the side of the stage, he turned back to his ex-wife.

Felicity pointedly did not look at him. Her eyes were closed, and she was taking deep breaths. He could see her building up her walls, her public persona reappearing, her blue eyes hardening, like the past few minutes didn’t happen.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“I’ll always protect you, Felicity.”

“That isn’t your decision.”

He sighed. They’ve had similar conversations before.

A wall stood between them once again. She didn’t look at him as she smoothed down her dress, picking off a piece of lint.

Oliver chastised himself. Things were going so well - as good as they could get, he supposed - and then he just had to ruin it.

“Ms. Smoak?” Someone called out. “If you could step this way.”

Before the divorce, he would have just stood there and watched her distance herself from him. He wouldn’t do that now.

She moved to get behind the curtain, but Oliver reached out, grabbing her elbow with a, “Felicity, wait.” He turned her so she was facing him, her eyes going wide with surprise. His ex-wife took a step towards him, like she instinctively wanted to get into his space, like she missed him as much as he missed her. But she pushed her clutch against his chest as if her mind caught up with what her body was telling her to do. 

For a microsecond, he had the urge to kiss her, but he pushed it down. He cleared his throat, his eyes searching hers for a second. 

“Make me look good.” Oliver finished.

She softened her gaze, her walls dropping just a little, and gave him a smile reminiscent of the old days, her fingers smoothing over his bowtie one last time. She pointedly glanced down at her handiwork before meeting his gaze once again, the barest hint of a smirk on her lips. “I believe I already did.”

Not even aware that he was doing it, Oliver’s fingers slid from her elbow up to her shoulder, and he watched as her eyes dilated, watched as her lips parted slightly. Her fingers lingered on the lapel of his suit as she took the smallest step towards him...

For that split second, he could have sworn that she leaned in closer, that she too felt that familiar zap of electricity between them.

Unbeknownst to them, a photographer stood a distance away, snapping their picture, forever freezing the moment.

In that blip of time, he imagined another world, one where they didn’t divorce. Maybe it would be one where he would place his hands on her waist and whisper something to her, making her face turn an adorable scarlet. Maybe she’d be carrying their child and he’d rub her swollen stomach. Maybe he’d kiss her sweetly before letting her go, keeping his grip on her hand for as long as humanly possible.

“Ms. Smoak, Mr. Queen,” Clipboard Guy said, giving them an annoyed look. “We’re starting.”

Oliver blinked, withdrawing his hand from her shoulder. They couldn’t go to that alternate universe, as much as he wanted them to.

“Yes, of course.” Almost like they were caught doing something illegal, she pushed away from Oliver like he had burned her. “Lead the way.” Turning back around, she straightened her shoulders, not looking back at him. Oliver could have sworn he heard her mutter something along the lines of, “Thank God for NDA’s or that would be plastered all over Starling’s Stars.”

Oliver remembered how much she hated the local tabloid segment. As she walked away, he refused to acknowledge the fact that he instantly missed her presence.

He followed a few feet behind her, curious as to what her speech would entail.

They both stopped at the edge of the stage, the blue and white curtain still keeping them from view. He wanted to whisper, ‘Good luck’, or run his hand up her back as a silent reminder that let her know that he believed in her.

For some reason, he held back.

The ex-wife of the honoree stepped in front of the curtain and walked up to the podium in the center of the stage, taking a second to adjust the microphone before she stared out into the audience.

Silence greeted her.

“Hello everyone. Good evening. For those of you who don’t know, I’m Felicity Smoak, CEO of Smoak Technologies. Oliver Queen is… he’s many things. He has many astonishing qualities.” She made a show of covering the microphone as she whispered into it. “Hold on. Am I really the best person to give this speech? He’s my ex.” 

The crowd chuckled with laughter, and despite the slight pang in his chest, his lips curled into a smile. He shook his head. Only she could have the guts to do that.

“In addition to that, he’s a son, a brother, a f-” 

Her voice barely wavered, but she cut herself off, turning her head to look back at him.

He knew what she was going to say. 

Their gazes locked, both of their eyes reflecting the same emotion before Felicity tore hers away. She looked back at the crowd of fancy suits with black bowties and gorgeous gowns with matching heels, clearing her throat.

To everyone in the audience, she looked calm and collected, but he knew her better than almost anyone.

She put her hands behind her back, digging her perfectly manicured nails into her palms, fine tremors making their way up her arms.

“He’s a fantastic businessman. He has done so much for Starling, for the people of this city.”

He heard the way her voice grew slightly thick, like there was a tadpole stuck in her throat. He exhaled a shaky breath, looking away from his ex-wife to focus on his mother. Moira was looking at Felicity, a look that was a combination of sympathetic, sad, and proud.

“After five years on an island, he returned home to save his city, and that is exactly what he’s done. He has taken Queen Consolidated to new heights, and increased the economic impact of The Glades by opening a club in the very place his father built a factory.”

Felicity’s voice rang out, gaining strength.

“He doesn’t give up, he always finds another way, and those are only a few reasons why I consider him a hero.”

She paused as the crowd applauded.

Warmth for this woman enveloped him.

“I am extremely proud to see him grow into the man he has become, and there is no one I would rather present the Humanitarian of the Year Award to. The man who has saved this city: Oliver Queen.”

[regina-knight-arrow]

TJ, Regina, and Tommy - Where Loyalties Lie (the later seasons)

Time travel ideas strike again lol

[kyliafanfiction]

Chapters: 11/? Fandom: Arrow (TV 2012) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen, Roy Harper/Thea Queen, Laurel Lance & Sara Lance, Laurel Lance & Quentin Lance & Sara Lance, Quentin Lance & Sara Lance, Oliver Queen & Thea Queen, Sara Lance & Thea Queen, Nyssa al Ghul & Laurel Lance, Tommy Merlyn/Joanna de la Vega Characters: Oliver Queen, Laurel Lance, John Diggle, Felicity Smoak, Sara Lance, Thea Queen, Tommy Merlyn, Roy Harper, Nyssa al Ghul, Quentin Lance, Isabel Rochev, Slade Wilson, Moira Queen, Sebastian Blood Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Laurel and Oliver were Both on the Queen's Gambit, alternate season 2, Detective Sara Lance, Black Canary Laurel Lance - Freeform, More Well Adjusted Oliver Queen, Characters Allowed To Improve and At Least Begin To Move Beyond Their Trauma, Wow What A Concept!, Eventual Nyssa/Sara, More Character And Relationship Tags May Be Added, Canon-Typical Violence Series: Part 2 of The Age of Superheroes Summary:

One year has passed since Laurel Lance and Oliver Queen returned to Starling City, five years after the Queen's Gambit went down. Working at first alone, and then eventually with others, including Detective Sara Lance, the Black Canary and the Hood - now going by the title 'the Arrow' - fought to cure Starling City of it's ills, fought those who were poisoning it, on all levels - in the end, including Malcolm Merlyn and his Undertaking.

But with the Glades half-ruined, Queen Consolidated in a downward tailspin, and an old enemy lurking, will this next year be any better for Oliver, Laurel and even Starling City as a whole?

The Siege of Starling City has begun.

-------------------------

Laurel wakes up in a hospital in Central City after watching the Star Labs Particle Accelerator explode, her voice strangely not working. There’s no medical reason for it, and yet, somehow, she just can’t talk? Why? What happened?

FFN Link

[schrijverr]

Painful Memories

After Diggle sees Oliver use a gun for the first time, an offhand comment makes it so that Oliver opens up about the Red Death that Kovar injected him with and how it nearly ended him.

On AO3.

Ships: none

Warnings: Oliver talks about a past near suicide attempt and is still passively suicidal & mentions of being drugged

~~~

In a way, Diggle feels like he shouldn’t be surprised that Oliver knows how to use a gun. It seems the man pulls out new strange skills every other day, so he should be used to it.

However, it takes him by surprise when his bow gets damaged and he grabs a gun off of one of the security guards to continue fighting. And it still feels weird when he watches Oliver expertly clean the gun now that they’re back in the Foundry.

Oliver looks concentrated, but also zen, the movements familiar. He’s getting lost in his own mind as he completes is task and Diggle is curious to know what he’s thinking. “So, guns.”

“It’s been a while,” Oliver replies, putting down the last pieces.

“Yeah.”

“Uh-huh, last time I held a gun without intending to disarm it, I nearly killed myself.” The confession doesn’t seem planned or purposeful. It’s more an absentminded comment that comes from idle musing as he works.

Diggle’s heart stops. Oliver being suicidal shouldn’t come as a surprise, there’s a reason Diggle is worried about Oliver becoming a casualty in his own war. The way he throws himself into danger is reckless and will get him killed one day. But the thought of that being by design still sends a chill down his spine.

His eyes worriedly watch Oliver reassemble the gun and he finds his voice seconds before the clip goes back in. “Hand me the gun.”

“What?” Oliver frowns, holding the clip in one hand, the gun in the other.

“Hand. Me. The. Gun,” Diggle repeats slowly, holding out his hands.

Oliver looks down at the gun, then back to Diggle, before it dawns on him why Diggle is suddenly asking him that. Disbelieving he huffs: “I’m not- I’m not going to kill myself, Diggle.”

“And I’ll feel a lot more certain about that, if you hand me the gun, Oliver,” Diggle shoots back without hesitation.

They stand like that. Across from each other. Diggle refuses to budge, not wanting to risk it no matter what Oliver says, while Oliver is stubborn and annoyed about not being believed. The only peace of mind Diggle has, is that the clip remains out of the gun, though with the skill Oliver showed earlier, he’ll have to move fast should Oliver want to change that.

“I’m not going to kill myself,” Oliver repeats.

“I believe you, but I’ll feel better if you hand me the gun.”

“Dig, you’ve been working with me for weeks. I’ve been around all sorts of weapons. If I wanted to, I could’ve done it with any of those weapons.”

“Yeah, but you never mentioned wanting to with any of those other weapons. So, for my sake, just hand me the gun.”

Diggle holds out his hand once more, giving Oliver an imploring look. For a moment, it seems like Oliver is going to continue being stubborn about it and raise Diggle’s blood pressure, but then he sags a little and hands over the gun. If it weren’t for the situation, Diggle would insist he is pouting about having to hand it over.

“It wasn’t like that when I thought about it,” he says as he gives Diggle the gun. “The only reason I did was because I was drugged.”

“I haven’t heard of any drug that can induce that,” Diggle tells him, getting the gun out of Oliver’s reach.

“Well, then you’ve clearly never been drugged with an old KGB interrogation drug,” Oliver huffs.

“What?”

“They call it the Red Death, it’s supposed to make you relive all the hurts you’ve ever experienced,” Oliver shrugs. “They give you a gun with one bullet. Most shoot themselves.”

“But you didn’t.” Diggle infers that much, since Oliver is still here. However, the information sends him reeling.

Such a drug sounds horrifying and it’s another piece of horrible shit that Oliver went through that he keeps to himself. Diggle has slowly been getting bits and pieces out of him, but there is so much he keeps to himself. It does nothing to dissuade the worry he feels for the other.

Oliver latches on to what Diggle says. “Exactly. I didn’t. I’m still here. If I were to do if, after all the years of bullshit, that would have been the moment. But I decided to live, Diggle. I chose to go on. I’m not going to shoot myself in the head, just because I have a gun in my hands.”

And Diggle wants to believe him, but he’s lost friends he served with, who were reckless like Oliver was, but always chose to live in the heat of battle, but couldn’t bear to make that same choice when they came home.

He chooses his words carefully, not wanting to give Oliver the feeling he doesn’t believe him when he is so miffed about it. However, also still concerned. “Alright, I can believe you won’t do anything that reckless. But no more guns. And I will be keeping a closer eye on you.”

“You’re being ridiculous, I’m not going to kill myself,” Oliver throws his hands up.

“Then you should have no problem with me watching out for you,” Diggle says. “It’s not like I’ll see anything that will cause me more worry. Or are you afraid that I’ll make you realize that just because you’re not putting the gun to your head that the recklessness you show in the field is more than wanting to complete the mission?”

“It’s not like that and you know it. I do what needs to be done,” Oliver explodes. “I don’t need you to coddle me. I survived hell, I survived that drug, even when everyone I knew was suddenly there, telling me how much better life would be without me. My recklessness is calculated. I always plan on making it home.”

His chest is heaving angrily after his outburst. Diggle isn’t sure if he meant to say all that, but it makes Diggle both respect him more and worry about him more.

If he had to guess, he’d say Oliver didn’t plan on revealing as much with the way his eyes shutter close into that emotionless mask Diggle has seen him use so often. He wants to push more, but it won’t be productive, so he just says: “Alright, I’ll let it go.”

The words are a total lie, because Diggle refuses to let it go. Oliver has become a friend, the only one he still has after Andy. He gave him his purpose back, made him live more than a routine he hated. He can’t lose his friend, his brother. So, yeah, he won’t let go, but he’ll say as much to put Oliver at ease.

“Thank you,” Oliver says after a beat, sounding a little suspicious, but willing to believe Diggle if it means the conversation is over.

Wordlessly, they set up everything to close up in silence, which accompanies them into the car as Diggle drives Oliver home, before returning to his own apartment.

Diggle doesn’t bring it up again, but always makes sure to keep an eye on Oliver to see if anything in his behavior changes. Observes when days are harder and when they come easier, sees how Oliver pulls through consistently.

He also sees how Oliver gets more good days over time, how he opens up more. Let’s others in, like Felicity, Sara, Roy. He has his loses, but they don’t drag him under and drown him like they used to before.

So, when they’re in Corta Maltese getting shot at by a private army, Diggle doesn’t hesitate in throwing a gun at Oliver when he asks for it. He trusts now that he won’t do anything stupid with it and gets a bit of pleasure from watching Roy’s confused face when Oliver expertly uses it.

The worry never fully fades, but both of them have moved from surviving to living. That’s not something to underestimate.

[m-cristiny]

Arrow 🏹