#Arrow Fanfic

[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

[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.”

[ymnfilter]

summary:

One minute Oliver Queen is drowning his feelings in Big Belly while the love of his life moves on with another man, and the next, it's the year 2022, and suddenly not only is Palmer Technology back to belonging to a Queen, Oliver is also the mayor? also a father to three beautiful kids? and a husband???

What the hell is happening? And if this is a dream, how the hell does he make it come true?

teaser:

“Daddy!” The boy exclaimed, stood on the arm chair, wobbling a little and Oliver surged forward to catch him just in case, but the boy just brandished the documents he’d been vandalizing, showing off the red scribbles at the base of every page, “Look. I pretend to be momma.”

Momma.

With those glasses, and that smile, and using red to sign every document-

Almost as if summoned, the elevator- the official elevator, not the service one that was supposedly out-of-order- dinged, and the computerized voice unfailingly announced,

Felicity Queen Entering The Executive Floor.

[regina-knight-arrow]

Just a bunch of random edits for Where Loyalties Lie

[twofacedharveydent]

“Some say that our lives are defined by the sum of our choices but it isn't really our choices that distinguish who we are . . . it's our commitment to them." - In an arranged marriage, love is a luxury; friendship is not.

FFN | WP | A03

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

[schrijverr]

Tomorrow Will Be Different 26

Chapter 26 out of 26

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

In this chapter, the Yamashiros leave and Oliver decides what the next part of his life will look like.

On AO3.

Ships: Tatsu x Maseo, minor Tommy x Laurel

Warnings: mentions of panic attacks and ptsd

~~~

Chapter 26: Dealing with Them Being Gone

On the tarmac, it isn’t any less strange than it had been two days earlier in the court house that he isn’t going to be in close quarters with Akio or Tatsu and Maseo anymore.

But he keeps that strangeness to himself. They finally have each other again, they’re going home. They don’t need him being weird about it. Besides, it’s not like he’s going to lose them forever, there will just be a little more distance between them.

He hugs Akio tightly and says: “God, you’re gonna do great, Akio. I just know it. Give it some time and call me whenever you need, okay?”

“Okay,” Akio agrees, hugging him back. “You can also call me whenever you need.”

The gesture makes Oliver smile and he tightens his grip for a second. “Thank you, buddy. I’ll remember that.”

They let go and Akio seriously says: “Don’t get sad and grumpy without me. Your face looks weird when you frown.”

“Thank you,” Oliver chuckles. “I’ll try not to. Be good for your parents.”

“Yes, sir,” Akio salutes, something Diggle taught him.

Oliver shakes his head with a grin, ruffling Akio’s hair, before turning to Tatsu and Maseo. He hesitates for a moment, but Maseo moves first, puling him into a hug. “Thank you again for all you have done for us. If there ever is anything we can do, please, allow us to help.”

“It wasn’t a hardship,” Oliver replies. “Thank you for looking out for me the past year.”

They let go, both looking each other in eye, before giving one another a sharp nod, then they step back and Oliver moves to hug Tatsu. He doesn’t expect much, a brief hug at most, but she surprises him by pulling him close.

“Thank you so much for watching out for my Akio,” she whispers. “You’ll always have a home and a family with us.”

Now Oliver is getting choked up, while he told himself not to cry. He pushes it all down, though can’t help but hug Tatsu tighter as he replies: “Thank you for letting me into your home. I’m a better man for it. Akio is lucky to have you as parents.”

Behind them, Akio is saying goodbye to Diggle, while Tatsu moves to thank Moira and Thea, who have come as well, with her husband once Oliver lets go.

When they’re done with that, they board the plane. The Queens have loaned out their jet to them for this trip, wanting to ensure they had a comfortable flight without curious fellow passengers or paparazzi following them all the way to the gate.

Oliver stands next to his mom and sister, Diggle half a step behind him. There is more space between him and Thea than him and Diggle, but he’s getting there.

Neither of his mom nor his sister know of his panic attack at the courthouse and he’s planning on keeping it that way. He doesn’t want them to worry and he doesn’t want them to ask questions. He just wants to go back to always being fine, like he used to be before he left. He wants to get the good pieces from then back.

Diggle clearly disagrees, as did Tatsu and Maseo when he told them not to mention it, but Oliver doesn’t care. With Akio and his parents back to Japan, he craves a normal and his normal has never involved his mom and sister worrying about him like that.

So, Oliver puts all that undercover work to use and plasters on his best brave face as they wave the plane goodbye.

Akio is pressed up against the glass of his seat the best he can, grinning and waving. Oliver imprints it the best he can. He knows it’s not the last time he’ll see Akio, but it somehow feels like it, like an ending.

As the plane disappears from view, it hits Oliver that it is definitively over. He completed his mission.

The thought creates an empty pit in his chest. Ever since Tatsu and Maseo returned, it has been growing, that feeling of unease, but he’s been able to push it down with the thought that he was still responsible for them here. That is now gone.

Oliver is without a mission. It is over. He is home completely. Nothing standing between him and life as he knew it.

It’s terrifying.

His nightmares have already been bad ever since he got home, however, the panic attack didn’t happen until the courthouse, until his mission was almost done. Not having a mission only makes him more anxious and the only way to make it better is to think of his plans as a vigilante.

These plans to become a vigilante are not ones he can talk about. Diggle might be a good asset later on, but he can’t have him stop him before it’s off the ground. It’s something he needs.

Not just to keep the anxiety away or to let out the darker parts inside of him, but to do good as well, to make his father proud.

He still hasn’t forgotten the video his father left him that he found when breaking into QC for A.R.G.U.S., nor what he said in the boat, nor the sacrifice he made so that Oliver could live. These past three years have made it difficult to do right by him, but now that he is no longer responsible for Akio, he can. There is no one dependent on him, should it go wrong.

The latter part is another reason he probably shouldn’t tell anyone about his plans. He knows people will care if he gets caught or hurt, but it’s not the same as someone relying solely on him to look out for them.

He has to reconsider the importance of others in his life when they get back home. Tommy is sitting in the living room, grinning when the come in. “What are you doing here?” Oliver asks.

“Well, as I predicted you got empty nest syndrome the second Akio left and have been pouting ever since,” Thea says. “As your kindhearted and generous sister, I organized board game night to cheer you up.”

His two siblings – because let’s be honest, Tommy is family – have organized this for him. They’ve gone out of their way to make him feel better, to do something with the three of them. They care so deeply about him and he’s planning on getting caught into something dangerous just to make himself feel better.

It’s selfish in a way and he starts to doubt if he should go through with it. Akio might not rely on him anymore, but these people still care. They rely on him in different ways and will be upset if something happens to him.

All of it makes it so that Oliver chokes up slightly, but he luckily doesn’t have to do anything with those emotions, because Tommy says: “I suggested making a custom castaway card for the Game of Life, but Speedy vetoed it.”

“I suggested teen adoption instead,” Thea smirks.

“Both of you suck,” Oliver informs them happily, plopping down on the couch as he declares: “I want to play Ludo.”

“Ugh, you are so boring,” Thea groans as she gets out the Ludo to set up.

“I call playing green,” Tommy says.

“Hey, I wanted green,” Oliver pouts.

“No, you always play blue. I play green.”

“Maybe I want to play green now. I feel like I have the right to first pick today.”

“Oh, I see how it’s going to be, huh, pulling out that card?”

Thea interrupts their familiar bickering: “If both of you are going to be twelve years old about it, then I’m playing green.”

“You no longer want to play red?” Oliver asks.

“I do, but not if you’re going to be a baby about it,” Thea grins.

Oliver narrows his eyes at her, then turns to Tommy and says: “I play green,” snatching the pieces out of the box.

Tommy rolls his eyes, but he’s grinning. “Alright, I’ll play yellow. But I call dibs on green next game. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They play three rounds of Ludo, which Oliver wins none of. He always sucked at Ludo and he had half thought that with the strategy he’d learned, he would finally find the secret, but no such luck. So, he forces them into playing Risk after, gleefully wiping the floor with them.

It’s after they’ve gone two rounds of Risk and are setting up for the next round, while Thea goes to get them snacks, that the happy atmosphere breaks.

Tommy glances around and says: “How are you doing, man?”

“Good,” Oliver replies, cautious at the tone. “I miss Akio, but this is nice. Thank you for coming and doing this.”

“Of course,” Tommy smiles, before his face turns serious again. “Laurel mentioned your freak out at the courthouse, but when I asked your mom how you were doing, she didn’t seem to know a thing about it.”

“You told her?” Oliver panics slightly at that. He wants to hide that from them, Laurel – and now Tommy knowing – is already too many people.

“No, no, just implied, but I got not reaction,” Tommy says. “Dude, are you hiding this?”

“What? No. …Maybe,” Oliver clears his throat. “You can’t tell them, Tommy. I don’t want to worry them. It was just a one off thing. Nothing big. I don’t want it to be something big.”

“It sounded like something big, dude. I mean, Laurel said you were completely out of it, struggling against your bodyguard and needing two people to calm you down. That is something big. You can’t just brush it off.”

“Yes, I can. I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on, Ollie. You can talk to me,” Tommy implores.

And in that moment, Oliver realizes he can’t. He can never open up about any part of it, ever. Even if fictionalized slightly to fit with his story. He can’t break the view they have of him, he can’t ruin the memories they have of Ollie.

He carries a darkness, created from the things he’s had to do in order to survive. It has become a part of him. Oliver doesn’t know who he is without it. But it’s not a nice thing, not a savory thing about him.

If anyone here knew the things he has done, they’d be horrified, rightfully so, maybe even scared of him too, and he wouldn’t be able to blame them. No matter how hard he tries, he isn’t made to fit in with polite company.

Tonight has been a taste of the good times, of the simpler years he lived. However, it is never the same as it used to be.

Thea has been way too agreeable, trying to cheer him up and Tommy is now inquiring about how he is, genuinely concerned something is deeply wrong with him. Even in this lighthearted moment, those years and how they changed him hang over him.

He is trying to wave away his episode at the courthouse, saying it was a one off, but he doesn’t know that. If he doesn’t do what he has planned for himself, that might become his life and the thought is terrifying.

The only person he has here now that might understand is Diggle and even he doesn’t fully know or understand what Oliver went through. He’s proven himself ready to support Oliver, help him through this, but Oliver isn’t ready to face that.

He doesn’t want to have more of those attacks, doesn’t want to find an outlet for all that is caught up inside of him. What if he lashes out because he hasn’t found anything yet and someone gets hurt? He already nearly killed Diggle earlier, what if it had been someone more breakable like Thea? He can’t risk that.

No, Oliver needs the outlet, needs the mission to keep him sane. He needs to do right by his city and his father. This is the way to do all of this in one. Keeping the bad men away has been the only skill he has gained these three years that is actually good, he should do that.

All these realizations wash over him in the split second after Tommy tells him he can talk to him about what’s happening.

He blinks himself back into the present and tries to be as reassuring as possible with his expression as he replies: “Tommy, I appreciate it, really. But there’s nothing to talk about. I’m fine. Truly. It wasn’t anything big. Laurel arrived later than the main thing, the rumors got out of hand.”

Tommy doesn’t look like he believes him, so Oliver pleads: “Please, I’ve already put mom and Thea through so much. I don’t want to worry them when it was nothing. I have it handled.”

Thea comes back with snacks before Tommy can reply. She looks between the two of them and asks: “Did something happen? You both look so serious.”

Oliver looks at Tommy, holding his breath as he waits to see what he’ll say. After a beat, Tommy answers: “I just realized how long Ollie has gone without sex. That’s something horrible to mourn, Thea.”

“Ugh, you’re both gross,” Thea wrinkles her nose. “I don’t wanna talk about Ollie’s sex life – or lack there off – let’s play more Risk.”

“Ready for me to kick your ass again?” Oliver gloats, happy for the deflection. Tommy has always been the one better at coming up with excuses.

“As if. Those two times were just luck,” Thea says.

The rest of the board game night passes in a good mood, but Oliver is aware of what his future will hold and he’s sure both Tommy and Thea feel the sudden barrier that has been erected between them.

But Oliver doesn’t acknowledge it. He was a fool to think that barrier wouldn’t be there, that he could just fit back in to his old life.

He’ll still try, of course. He’ll play at who he used to be, because that person can never be who he is now or who he is planning on becoming. He’ll need a cover and his old life is perfect. But those closest to him will feel that it’s not the same. It’ll hurt both them and him, but it’s the way it has to be.

The next day, he goes out to the Glades, using covert tactics to get the supplies he needs as he starts to set up a base of operations.

Within days, he’s in business. His father’s notebook is on the table, open on the relevant page. Tonight he’ll start with the first name he plans to cross off: Adam Hunt.

~~

A/N:

It’ll likely play out a little different than the first season of the show itself, but I will leave that up to your imagination, because this is the part of the story I wanted to tell. Thank you so much for sticking with me for it’s entirety and congrats on reading 100-ish pages xp

[m-cristiny]

Arrow 🏹

[erraticrandomficwriter]

Sneak Peek

Clad in a sleek black leather motorcycle suit and helmet, a woman strode confidently into the Barton Tech office building. The hour was so late that only the security guard and possibly a member of the custodial staff were around, but they were not her concern—her business was with the CEO himself.

The security guard, an older man who had likely been with the company since its inception, barely had time to react before she incapacitated him with a dart, ensuring he’d remain unconscious just long enough for her to complete her mission.

In the elevator, she prepared another dart in her tranquilizer gun, this one filled with a uniquely colored substance. For a touch of theatrics, she gestured to the elevator camera, signaling that time was running out for the observer she presumed was watching.

Her message was received loud and clear, as evidenced by Clay Barton Jr. attempting to flee upon her arrival on his floor. A quick shot from her tranquilizer gun halted his escape, the dart striking his leg and swiftly rendering him unconscious.

This sedative was milder than the one used on the guard, but it sufficed to allow her to haul Clay back to his office and secure him to his chair. Despite her slender frame, she handled the task with ease - a testament to her strength and experience in such situations.

When Clay regained consciousness, he was met with her imposing figure on the opposite side of his desk. Even behind her helmet, her presence was formidable. She forcefully placed a pen on the bill of sale and commanded, “Sign.” Her voice, distorted by a voice modifier, sounded unnaturally mechanical.

Clay’s laughter was dismissive. “Apex can send whoever they want to intimidate me. I am not going to sell my family’s business for pennies on the dollar! I still don’t even understand why they want it. There are far more other profitable companies they can acquire.”

“They have their reasons. Which is why they are willing to do anything to get what they want. Now sign.” She showed no reaction to Clay’s defiance, instead pulling out her cellphone and displaying live footage that threatened his family’s safety. “Sign or else your daughter’s date might not be who they claim.” With each swipe revealing another potential threat. "Or perhaps your wife's new friends has an ulterior motive. Then again it could be little Cliff's nanny." At the end of her presentation, Clay’s resolve crumbled.

“Apex doesn’t work like this! They don’t hurt innocent people!” he protested.

She spun his chair to face her, her tone unyielding. “Only if they play nice.” She tapped her wrist again, a silent ultimatum. “Time’s running out, Barton. Are you going to play nice, or are am I to bring in another player into the game?”

Clay’s panic was palpable. “I’ll do it - I’ll sign! Just don’t hurt my family!”

She swiftly turned him back to the desk, cut one of the zip ties binding his wrists, and handed him the pen. After he signed the necessary documents, she collected them and made her exit.

“Wait! Who is in danger?! Who did you target!” Clay’s voice was desperate.

“As long as you keep playing nice, you’ll never have to find out.” Her response was dismissive as she left him behind and descended to the lobby.

When she entered the lobby, the guard was still asleep behind his desk. She was about to walk right out the door but stopped when she caught a glimpse of a news report that was playing on his TV. She went behind the desk to get a better look. The big block letters on the screen read 'Oliver Queen has been found'.

She didn’t have time to react to the fact that Oliver Queen was alive because the guard started to stir awake and looked at her with wide eyes. She turned her attention to him in that moment. “Your boss is tied up in his office. You might want to do something about that.”

With her mission accomplished, she exited the building, mounted her motorcycle, and sped away. She pulled into an alley hidden from surveillance and removed her helmet, revealing the stark contrast between her pale complexion and her raven hair.

Extracting a flip phone from her pocket, she dialed the sole number saved in it.

“Is it done?” inquired a voice, artificially sweet, from the other end.

“It’s done. I’ll bring the paperwork back in the morning,” she responded evenly.

“That is excellent, my little Predator.” A brief silence ensued. “Did you see the news? Oliver Queen is alive.”

“I caught a glimpse on my way out,” she replied, her tone devoid of emotion.

The woman on the line chuckled. “My, my. Regina Knight is not thrilled that Oliver Queen has resurfaced, and her chessboard is once again complete?”

She offered no reply to the provocation. “I’ll see you in the morning.” She ended the call, discarded the phone onto the pavement, donned her helmet, and rode off, the device shattering beneath her wheels.

Regina vanished into the darkness, the words ‘Oliver Queen is alive’ echoing through her mind.