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None of them had seen it coming. Of course, none of them were all that knowledgeable about magic-users they hadn’t personally met, so it was hard to prepare for a sorceress out of mythology.
Laurel wasn’t convinced that this wasn’t an assumed name on the part of the self-styled supposed Circe. But that didn’t matter much when her powers were the same as in the book and she’d chosen to demonstrate them on Oliver.
“Think you’re clever enough to defeat a sorcerer? Try fighting your way out of this.” The unknown woman had cackled before zapping their teammate with a jet of light. They’d all watched in horror as Oliver had shrunk, the bow falling to the ground and arrows spilling from the quiver as a pig tripped over the shafts, oinking and squealing with distress.
Thea had screamed and launched herself at Circe, who had disappeared in a blinding flash before the smaller archer could make contact. Laurel had been more concerned with stopping the newly transformed Oliver from running blindly down the alley.
“Ollie? Ollie, if you’re in there, just calm down,” she’d tried. It had been impossible to know if he could understand the words, but he slowed to a stop in front of her long enough for John to heave him up into his arms.
They’d brought him back to the base and immediately began calling around to their friends to see if anyone might know some way to undo the damage. Laurel was currently on the phone with Vixen, though it wasn’t sounding promising.
“My speciality is connecting with the spirit of an animal, not literally changing into the animal. Much less changing another person. And the research I’ve done into magic so far hasn’t extended to the Mediterranean. I’m sorry, Laurel, I wish I could help.”
“That’s okay. I had to try.”
The elevator dinged just as she hung up, and Laurel was shocked to see Felicity stride into the room, the first time since she’d quit the team a few weeks prior.
“Where is he? I have got to see this. Oh!” Felicity drew up short upon spotting the pig who was currently penned in via strategically placed chairs and very unhappy about it. “This is such a Spirited Away moment right now. I can’t even tell if it’s him.” She spun around to face them. “So what did he do to get cursed by a witch?”
“Nothing,” Thea replies with a hand on her hip. “That lady showed up and cursed him out of nowhere. How do you even know about it?”
“I called her,” said John. “We need Constantine’s number, so I thought she could get it off Oliver’s phone.”
“We don’t need his phone,” Laurel countered. “He gave me his number on a card when he was here.”
Felicity’s eyebrows raised in interest. “And did you call him?”
“Haven’t needed to. Until now.” Laurel went for her purse, digging around in it until she located the card. She smoothed out the corners and dialed the number, waiting as it rang.
“Hello?”
“John? It’s Laurel Lance. We met last fall.”
“Laurel, love! Not that I’m not happy to hear a birdsong right now, but I’m headed into a tricky bit of work. Can we make this quick?”
“Okay.” She drew in a breath and said in one go, “Oliver’s been turned into a pig by a woman who claims to be Circe for being able to beat Darhk.”
Constantine let out a low whistle. “Circe, eh? She’s impulsive like that.”
“Then she’s real?” Laurel asked in bewilderment. It was hard to imagine that a character from a story — one of the few novels Oliver had ever read in school, ironically enough — could be a real, breathing person. And still alive, no less.
“Yeah, but listen, she’s in it for the ego, really. You lot stopped Darhk, and she must have felt a bit threatened, right? Wants you to ‘know your place’,” he said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
That seemed to fit with the woman’s behavior.
“You’re going to have to appeal to her sense of vanity,” he continued.
“How do we do that?”
“There’s a club she frequents. I’ll send you the address. Take Oliver there and beg her to change him back. She’s the only one who can, stuff like that. She may want something from you in return, though make sure of what it is before you agree to it. That ought to satisfy her.”
“Okay,” she replied. Laurel knew it would have been a lot to expect him to drop everything and come help — assuming her could even break the curse — but she was not enthusiastic about going back to the sorceress who had done this to Oliver.
“Good luck, love. And give Oliver a scratch behind the ears for me.”
“Goodbye, John,” she said, ignoring the request before hanging up. “He says we have to ask Circe to undo it.”
“Why would she?” John asked.
Laurel sighed. “Apparently, it will prove to her that she’s more powerful than us and calm her down.” Her phone buzzed with a text. The Amphitheatre. “Constantine just sent me the address of the club she frequents. It’s on Mykonos, so we’re going to have to take some days off.” She could always call in a couple personal days. She hadn’t used any yet this year and was unlikely to later.
“How are we going to transport Oliver?” Thea asked, and they all frowned. None of them were exactly familiar with the procedure of getting a farm animal cleared for travel.
“Barry could just run us,” Felicity pointed out. He’d want to help out.”
Laurel grimaced. She’d been hoping to avoid involving Team Flash. They made light of things at the best of times, which was good, but would Oliver see it as making fun of him? She could tell he valued that role of mentor to Barry and didn’t want him to feel embarrassed around the other hero after this. But it was the quickest way to get him back.
Felicity was already calling besides. “Barry, we could really use your help right now. It’s about Oliver.”
Fast enough, the Flash was in their base. “What’s going on, guys? And uhh, what’s with the pig?”
“Oliver’s the pig,” Felicity explained, and Laurel couldn’t help noting she seemed happy to say so. She rubbed her temples; now was a bad time for the two of them to be on the rocks.
Barry whirled back around to gape at the enclosure of chairs. “What happened to him?”
Oliver made a sort of squealing noise, and Laurel couldn’t tell if that was meant to be in answer or if he was simply agitated by Barry’s fast movements. There was little way of knowing just how cognizant of everything he was, though she could only hope for his sake that it wasn’t all that much.
“This witch named Circe cursed him, and we gotta go talk to her,” Thea added. “Laurel’s got the address.”
To his credit, Barry took all this information in stride with only a few more shocked looks here and there. “Okay. How many people are going?”
All of them raised their hands, even Felicity. “I mean, I can’t pass up meeting the actual Circe,” she defended.
“Digg, you first, then Oliver?” At John’s nod, Barry and he were gone in the blink of an eye. With another zip of electricity, Oliver disappeared from the makeshift pig pen. When Barry next returned, he paused with his hands on his knees.
“I think he’s heavier as the pig,” he wheezed.
“Well, I should be much lighter,” Felicity remarked, walking up to him. Barry scooped her up, and they were gone.
“Have you ever traveled via speedster?” Laurel asked Thea in the ensuing silence, unable to help a bit of nerves.
“Once. It was disorienting, but awesome.” That was all Thea got to say before she, too was whisked away.
Laurel replaced her mask over her eyes and shook out her wrists, trying to feel ready.
The next thing she knew, there were arms at her back and under her knees as everything blurred together. Laurel squeezed her eyes shut until she felt herself placed back on her feet.
They stood outside what counted as the stage door to the Amphitheater. John struggled to hold Oliver in order to keep him from running off again while Thea patted the pig’s head in an effort to try and calm him.
“Thanks, Barry,” Laurel said. “You don’t have to stay if you need to get back.”
“You’re sure?” When she nodded, he returned it. “Alright, call if you need me.” With that, he was off.
Felicity looked around from where she’d been peeking through the stage door. “Wait, did Barry just go? How do we get back?”
“A plane? He’s got a whole city to protect by himself,” Laurel pointed out. “And I’m not sure putting him up against Circe is going to make it look like we’re begging.” She might be more likely to see a metahuman as a threat, and then who knew what she’d turn the rest of them into?
Laurel joined Felicity at the stage door, easing it open more. “We can do this, Felicity. The whole team.” It would probably do Oliver some good to know Felicity had come all this way with them. He’d been struggling to stay positive since the breakup, but maybe this predicament he’d been put in would draw the two exes back together. Laurel could only hope for that much for him.
She held the door open for the others, then followed them through the backstage area, following the sounds of singing.
“Circe’s back in town!”
Thunderous applause sounded from out in the house, and they heard the sorceress speak. “Thank you! Oh, my adoring public!”
Thea glanced back at her with a disgusted look Laurel felt herself. Before she could respond in kind, they heard their quarry exit the stage for the side of the wings they were waiting at the edge of. Circe’s eyebrows raised as she stopped short at the sight of them. “Well, that was fast.”
“We want him back,” John answered plainly.
“Please,” Laurel stressed. “We didn’t mean any offense to the magical... world? by stopping Darhk. He came to our city and was hurting our people. We did what we had to, and it was very difficult. We wouldn’t want to fight anyone with that skill, or better, under ordinary circumstances.”
Circe appraised her, though her eyes narrowed as she locked gazes with Felicity. “I don’t remember you.”
“I don’t do any fighting,” Felicity said quickly. “Just here for moral support and to, um, see you! Wow, you’re really… real.”
“None of us can do magic, so you’re the only one who can help us,” Thea continued in the wake of the awkward pause their friend’s rambling had caused. “So will you?”
Circe hummed in thought. “No, I don’t think I will. Not with just that.”
Laurel opened her mouth, ready with another appeal, hands already clasped together, when the woman held up a hand.
“Convince me why I should bother restoring him. What do you stand to lose, here? What place does he hold in your heart? I want to be moved to tears. I want — a performance.” The sorceress gestured up on stage.
“We have to sing about Ol— uh, Green Arrow?” Thea asked skeptically.
“Oh don’t worry. The microphone’s enchanted. It will take your thoughts and feelings and put them to the right music. I’ll even allow you to decide amongst yourselves whose solo debut this will be.”
“Like a magic karaoke? Weird.” Thea shrugged and made to step forward. John, however, shook his head since his arms were too full of pig to reach out. He motioned them all to retreat into a sort of huddle, Oliver’s hooves jutting out into the middle of it while he squirmed around.
“Thea can’t be the one who does it. If this magic is about pulling the truth out of her, she might let slip that Oliver’s her brother, and we don’t know who these people all talk to,” he pointed out in undertone. “It could get back to Ruve, and that makes her anti-vigilante task force's job that much easier.”
Thea grimaced but seemed to acknowledge the point. As one, their group looked to Felicity. She backed up a step.
“Oh no. No way.”
“But Felicity—”
“I have terrible stage fright. And besides! I don’t really have the best feelings about Oliver, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“You can’t want him to stay a pig forever,” John said.
“No, but I also can’t really think of anything flattering enough to make a sorceress change him back. I mean, I’m more likely to get up there and sing ‘I Will Survive’ at this point.”
“Felicity, come on.”
As John and Felicity continued to argue, Laurel watched Oliver’s anxious eyes, still blue despite the transformation. He seemed to sense the tense atmosphere, even if he couldn’t know they were fighting over his very fate. How could they be this close and not be ready and able to get him back? He would do it for any one of them, she knew that in her bones. No matter what it cost him. She couldn’t worry about what it might cost her.
“Why don’t you do it?”
“I’m the only one strong enough to hold him.”
“Well give him a tranq dart or have her make a cage or something, I am not—”
“I’ll do it.” Laurel felt just as surprised as the others looked to hear the words come out of her mouth. But she couldn’t exactly take them back. “We need Oliver, and he needs to have this spell broken.”
Thea bit her lip and looked about to say something, so Laurel pulled away from their group and stepped back towards Circe. “I’ll sing.”
A wide smile broke out on the sorceress’ face. “Excellent. Of course, we want you in something a little more suited to the stage.” She snapped her fingers, and Laurel felt a sort of strange rush energy as her jacket, undershirt and pants were suddenly replaced by a strapless floor-length evening gown in all black. Her fingerless gloves remained, though the fishnet pattern extended to her upper arms.
“I’ve left the mask,” Circe said before she had even finished bringing a hand to her face to check it was still securely in place.
“Where exactly are my real clothes?”
“It’s an illusion, my dear. It will lift once you’ve upheld your end of the bargain.”
Right, she still had to sing. Laurel exchanged brief, worried glances with John and Thea, the latter of whom still looked like she was holding back from saying something. Something Laurel had a feeling Thea had been suspecting for some time. It didn’t matter; her suspicions were about to be confirmed one way or the other.
Circe’s hand pressed against her back as she guided Laurel out of the wings with her. Right away, a spotlight hit them and she resisted the impulse to shield her eyes as she was guided towards center stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Circe said, her voice somehow magically amplified. “A special songbird all the way from the West Coast of the United States. The mysterious, melodious Black Canary!”
A smattering of applause rose from the audience. She hoped she wasn’t blushing. At least no one seemed to question the mask.
As soon as she stepped up to the mic, Laurel felt a powerful wave of something wash over her as an unseen orchestra — perhaps no one was playing, perhaps it was all magic — started up with a swell of mournful notes. Laurel didn’t know how she knew when to come in. It was as Circe had said. She just did.
“He doesn’t say the things he should. He acts the way he thinks he should.” She closed her eyes, feeling herself being pulled into the music, for lack of a better word. Into the truth of this song. “But all the same… I’ll play this game his way.
As long as he needs me.” Laurel could feel a slight shake to her voice as she sang. “Oh yes, he does need me. In spite of what you see, I’m sure that he needs me.”
It was everything she had ever felt these last few years. The weariness, the doubt, the bone-deep certainty that, nevertheless, she had to continue on.
Laurel teared up when the word finally came falling off her lips. “The love I feel inside. The love I have to hide. The hell—” She nearly felt choked. “—I’ve got my pride! As long as he needs me!”
She didn’t dare look at the others. It was easier facing the audience, backlit by the spotlight on her and making them indistinct. There was going to be no coming back from this when it was all said and done. The team would all know her secret, even if Oliver didn’t. And how long could that feasibly last?
She was the Black Canary, but she was singing her swan song.
---
Oliver didn’t know what had happened to him. One minute they’d been patrolling the streets when a woman in a green dress had appeared out of nowhere, declaring him an upstart for daring to defeat a sorcerer like Damien Darhk, and the next minute — well, the woman in green was still there, but the streets were gone. Instead, he found himself on hands and knees in the wings of some sort of theater as an orchestra played under a woman’s singing.
He felt John’s hands pull him up and he was crushed in an embrace for a moment. “Good to have you back, man.”
Someone reached for his hand, and as he squeezed back automatically he could tell it was Thea’s. Over John’s shoulder, he saw Felicity watching him for a moment before looking down. When had she joined them?
“What just happened?” He asked. Some time had clearly passed. But what had he been doing? What had his team done to get him back?
“Shh!” The very sorceress who had cursed him hissed at them, eyes never quite leaving the stage. And the more he paid attention, the more it occurred to him — was that Laurel’s voice?
Oliver felt drawn towards the edge of the wings, mouth falling open as he took in the sight of Laurel in her mask and a beautiful dress, standing before a sea of strangers.
“I miss him so much, when he is gone,” she sang, a delicate sweetness in her voice that was at odds with the tortured look on her face. “But when he’s near me, I carry on… The love I feel inside. The love I have to hide. The hell—” He saw her struggling. “I’ve got my pride! As long as he needs me!”
“What is happening?” He demanded in a low tone. Who was making her do this? And why?
“Payment for reversing my little spell on you,” the sorceress answered just as softly. “I asked them to demonstrate just why they wanted you back. Needed you, even,” she added, her eyes sparkling.
Oliver’s head whipped back to look at the others. John’s gaze, the little he could make of it from behind his friend’s helmet, was lowered and somber. Felicity’s head shook side-to-side sadly, though the tips of her ears had turned very pink. Tears leaked from under Thea’s domino mask as her lips pressed tight together.
His fists clenched as he turned back to the woman who had started all of this. “You undid the spell. She can stop now.”
But the sorceress extended an arm across his path before he could march out onto the stage. “I undid it so you could listen,” she explained as though he were a child. Then she let out a dreamy sigh. “After all, it’d be a shame to waste such a torch song.”
Laurel’s torch song. Laurel had been carrying a torch all these years… for him? His breath caught and a lump rose in his throat.
“If you are lonely, then you will know,” Laurel’s voice came out soft, then slowly grew. “When someone needs you, you love them so…” She carried the note through, her head raising with defiance in the set of her jaw. Strong to the end. “I won’t betray his trust, though people say I must. I’ve got to be. True. Just…” the music faded out for a breath, and it was into that silence that she declared, “As long as He! Needs! Me!”
The music rose, flooding his ears. Laurel held the note until she couldn’t, until her legs — which he could only guess had been trembling for some time — gave out from under her, and she landed on her knees.
Oliver rushed forward without thought, distantly hearing a door slam behind him somewhere. He reached Laurel’s side and pulled her up, her eyes widening at the sight of him. “Ollie?”
There was so much, too much that he wanted to ask, but all that came out as he looked into her eyes was, “I’m sorry.” How could he have been so blind?
“Thank you, thank you all!” The sorceress declared, standing near the floor lights. She snapped her fingers, and Laurel was suddenly wearing her Black Canary suit again.
This seemed to jolt her, for she ripped out of his hold and bolted off the stage. Oliver hurried to follow, just catching up with Thea and John on their way out.
“Laurel!” His sister was calling.
“Felicity already left, now this,” John muttered under his breath. He cast a look Oliver’s way as he drew up beside the other man. “What are we gonna do, Oliver?”
He didn’t have an answer. His mind was still racing. Felicity had shown up when he’d fallen prey to a curse, but she was leaving now. Laurel had confessed to feelings he hadn’t thought she possibly still held and now seemed terrified to be in the same room as him. What had he done?
Felicity was nowhere to be seen when he exited out into a back alley where Thea stood, one arm around Laurel and their heads bent close together.
“Where exactly are we?” He asked.
“On an island off of Greece. Long story. Look, we gotta figure out which way Felicity went.”
Scarcely had John finished speaking, when a trail of lightning announced Barry’s arrival.
“Hey, you’re you again!”
“You’re here,” Oliver replied, thrown by the sudden appearance.
“Oh, well Felicity called for the ride back, so I figured I’d double back here to get the rest of you. Glad they broke your pig curse.”
“Pig curse?”
“Never mind, Oliver. Barry, you gotta get him back to the base to catch Felicity,” John said, adding in an undertone, “Thea and I’ll talk to Laurel.”
Oliver looked up in alarm. “Wait—”
But his surroundings were whisked away as he felt himself carried over land and sea, only for it all to come crashing back into solid, jarring shape. A crackle of electricity and Barry was gone again, leaving Oliver to notice Felicity waiting at the elevator.
“I—” He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Was she upset? And why? Oliver couldn’t begin to wonder when Laurel’s stricken look and voice were the only thoughts in his head. “I’m sorry if this has made things more difficult,” he decided on lamely.
“We broke up and realized we couldn’t work on a team together, Oliver. Things can’t get more difficult,” she stated bluntly. “I thought there was something wrong with me. After all, Laurel could still work with you, right?” She laughed, but it wasn’t a funny one. “Now we both know why.”
“I didn’t know.” He couldn’t believe he hadn’t known.
“Of course you didn’t. No one in their right mind would ever want someone to know they still had feelings for them after they broke their heart. Just… just try to be empathetic with her, alright? I would want to die if I were in Laurel’s shoes right now.”
He swallowed heavily. Was that really how Laurel would feel?
The elevator doors opened, and Felicity stepped inside. “For the record, you weren’t a very cute pig.” Then they closed, and Oliver could only watch the lights signify that it rose up to the ground floor and let her out.
He slowly wandered back towards the conference table and sat, resting his elbows on the table and his head in his hands. It didn’t seem as though the others were coming back for a while. Probably consoling Laurel. Something in him ached.
Why had he been forced back here to try and rehash something that had already fallen apart? Felicity had walked out on him twice now, had he really needed a third time? He just felt hollow when it came to the end of his engagement. There was nothing left to feel. Not when his oldest friendship might be on the line half a world away, depending on how badly Laurel’s secret being exposed affected her.
Laurel… Laurel had always been there when he needed her. Because he needed her, he realized now with bitter irony. He had asked her all those years ago at Tommy’s grave, and she had never disappointed him. No matter how many times he’d disappointed her in return. He didn’t know how it could be that she could love such a man like him. A man of the island.
Beneath the shock, beneath the sudden rush of regret, there was a quiet awe beginning to grow. Laurel loved him. Him, Oliver Queen. She had seen the man he was plain as day, had fought him, been hurt by him and called him out on all his lies and hypocrisies. Yet she loved him still.
A strange sound left him, a stifled sob. His shoulders shook, and Oliver found himself crying in a way he rarely let happen. He could count the times on one hand since he’d gotten back, perhaps even since the island. Usually they were times of extreme grief, but that wasn’t what this was. There was a sense of loss, yes, but only of time. Time was something he could make up for.
He was wiping his cheeks dry when John at last appeared in the base, Barry presumably going back for their remaining teammates. “You alright, man?”
“Fine.” Oliver stood. “How’s Laurel?”
“Calmer. Look, you might wanna just take a walk round the block for a bit till Thea can get her home.”
“I need to talk to her.” No more putting it off, no more running away.
“You were supposed to be talking to Felicity,” his friend reminded him.
“John, I let her go.” It was what she had asked of him last month, and he knew that it had truly been the right call. Maybe he’d known it for a while, but it had taken tonight for it to finally sink in.
With another whoosh of electricity and wind, Thea stood in the base. “What are you still doing here?”
“Says he needs to talk to Laurel.”
“She doesn’t want a scene,” Thea said with a severe look that came straight from their mother.
“It’s not going to be a scene,” he insisted. “But I can’t just ignore what happened.”
Barry zipped into being with Laurel in his arms. He set her down on the floor and looked around. “Okay, all back. Everything okay? Is there anything…?”
“Go home and rest, Barry. And thank you,” Oliver told him. His friend nodded, but Oliver reached out and clasped his shoulder before he could depart. “Not a word to the others,” he added in a low voice.
Barry’s head bobbed up and down quickly a couple times. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” Then he was gone.
Laurel was gone, too, disappearing back into the changing stalls. Oliver headed that way as well.
“I think we should talk,” he called out.
“There’s nothing to say.”
“I haven’t said anything.”
“Exactly.”
He could hear things being thrown around, could picture her kicking her boots off out of some potent mix of anger and shame. Oliver sighed.
“Laurel, please?”
There was silence.
“Give me a minute,” was her request. Oliver nodded to himself and went back to the main area, passing John on his way to change as well.
Thea stood by the conference table looking worried. He wanted to tell her it was going to be okay and the realizations he’d had about himself and his feelings — but this was something Laurel needed to hear first. She was owed that.
Laurel slowly made her way towards them in her civilian clothes, hands flexing with nerves.
“Go ahead and change,” Oliver asked his sister, before indicating the side room with a tilt of his head. Laurel nodded and followed him.
“If we are actually talking about what happened, I just want to make clear that it doesn’t change anything,” Laurel said right away the moment they were alone. “My feelings are just that. They’re not some declaration of intent.”
He knew what was on her mind; Tommy, and the way things had ended between the three of them. He could appreciate the irony of their roles being flipped now, and the irony, too, that they always seemed to end up back here.
“I understand,” he said out loud. “If you don’t want to address it, we don’t have to.”
“Okay,” Laurel said with clear relief.
“I was thinking we could address my feelings.”
She fixed him with a look, and he only very narrowly kept a straight face. Slowly, he began walking towards her, closing the gap between them.
“I feel grateful for what you did to help me. I feel angry and sad that you were forced to reveal something about yourself you’d kept secret. And—” he drew up to her at last, watching Laurel watch him with an intensity in her gaze. “—I feel lucky, selfishly lucky, to know how you feel about me.”
“Ollie…” She stared up at him in disbelief.
He nodded. “It’s still gonna take me some time to heal from what happened with Felicity. I know I shouldn’t rush that. But Felicity and I, we began because I had thought I’d lost my chance with the first woman I ever loved. I had no idea that wasn’t true.”
“What are you saying?” She asked, barely above a whisper. He thought of the way she had poured herself out in that song and how her voice had been a very force. He wanted to give her that strength back.
“I’m saying that you are a part of me, and I will always need you. And if you can just give me some time…”
She reached out and touched his cheek. “Whatever you need.”
Oliver placed his hand over hers, then turned his face into it, ghosting his lips over her palm. He heard her suck in a breath, and he lowered their hands before pulling her gently into a hug.
Laurel rested there in his arms, head tucked under his chin, and he never wanted her to leave. All the reasons he had ever left ran through his head, and they all sounded pointless now.
“We’ll figure this out. I promise,” he murmured, and her arms shifted up his back a little. Then they slowly drew apart.
Laurel was smiling now, softly, and his heart felt full the way it had as he’d listened to her sing.
“You know, I never realized you had such a good voice,” he remarked, and grinned when Laurel ducked her head with a breathy laugh.
“I think it may have been the magic.”
“I don’t buy it.”
A throat clearing softly had them both looking up. Thea stood at the edge of the archway. “Is it okay?”
“It’s gonna be,” he said while Laurel nodded.
She walked over to join Thea. “Let’s call it a night.”
Thea seemed to take some assurance from whatever she saw in Laurel’s expression, for she relaxed and actually smiled in his direction. “Sure. Night, Ollie.”
“Goodnight,” he told them both.
Laurel exchanged a last, long look with him, and they left the base. With John having departed on his own it seemed, Oliver was left alone to change and to get ready for sleep. Yet it hardly felt as lonely as the other nights since he had moved down here.
He had people in his life who loved him. Friends, family, and Laurel. Always Laurel, who was both of the former categories in her own way and yet so much more.
She was home, and he was finally on his way back there.