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Artwork by Lademonessa
Tommy stood squinting in the noon day sun as he shook the hand of every high ranking Starling City politician. His left hand rested on the center of Dinah Lance’s back through the entire receiving line. After re-opening his mom’s clinic, he’d dedicated his efforts to re-opening CNRI. Once he’d turned thirty and was given unfettered access to his trust fund, he’d invested his time and energy into honoring Laurel’s sacrifice for the city she loved and believed in. He renamed CNRI, the Laurel Lance Legal Aid Society. Luckily, with Thea’s help, his abduction hadn’t delayed the project and they were able to open the new office on Laurel’s birthday.
Even though the reopening of the legal aid offices had been Tommy’s brainchild, he didn’t speak at the dedication ceremony. He let that honor fall to her parents and Joanna De La Vega. He couldn’t bow out of the ceremony completely and had been lending emotional support to a visibly upset Dinah. Once he was done with the glad handing, he’d promised several of the local news channels a few minutes of his time, as long as they didn’t ask anything pertaining to his disappearance.
“He looks tired,” Oliver said softly to Felicity. They were standing off to the side and Oliver was watching Tommy warily. They’d been home from defeating Ra’s for almost three months and had settled back into their prior routines. Felicity had finally been given a clean bill of health and she’d nearly returned to her pre-abduction weight. Tommy’s hair had finally grown back, but his clothes still hung from his lanky frame. He’d gained fifteen pounds since returning home, but he’d lost nearly forty-five in captivity. Tommy’s every rib and vertebrae were visible and it pained Oliver every time he saw the man he loved naked. The doctors assured Oliver that there wasn’t anything preventing Tommy from gaining weight, he just needed to eat more. Oliver wished it was only a matter of increasing Tommy’s caloric intake. His boyfriend was sleeping poorly and routinely seemed agitated and unable to keep still. The recent news that Malcolm had escaped from his cell in Nanda Parbat had sent Tommy into a rage that left every dish and glass on their dinner table broken. The last time Oliver had seen Tommy this thin he’d been seventeen. At the time Oliver had chalked it up to Tommy’s sudden growth spurt, but looking back on it, Oliver wondered if there’d been another cause. It was that other cause, that had Oliver worried. He’d come so close to losing Tommy back then, he wasn’t willing to risk it again.
“He had another nightmare,” Felicity smiled blandly as she waved at some woman who’d been on a committee with Oliver’s mom.
Oliver waved to the same woman and plastered his best playboy smiled on, “I didn’t hear him.”
“It was about Laurel, this time,” Felicity said so softly he almost missed it.
Before he could ask for more details, they were approached by a group of three couples, all former friends of his parents. Oliver was forced to make small talk as he kept an eye on Tommy in front of the news cameras. He looked relaxed and his easy grin smiled into the lenses, but Tommy had always been a master at playing to the cameras. Oliver had always scowled and lashed out at the paparazzi, but Tommy had always remained jovial and polite. Tommy could hide a lot behind his easy grin. At least Tommy had agreed to get a new suit for the occasion. If he’d shown up wearing one of his old suits that made him look like a child playing dress-up, the press would’ve been relentless in their questions about his abduction.
Tommy finished his interview with Channel 52 and was walking towards Channel 7’s cameras when he swayed slightly on his feet. Oliver gripped Felicity’s elbow, “Will you excuse us for a moment?” Oliver led Felicity away, unconcerned with their abrupt departure. He let go of her arm and walked as quickly as he could without looking like there was something wrong. Tommy was standing motionless and looked confused as Oliver approached. Oliver wrapped Tommy in platonic hug and patted his back. “The new place looks great,” he said loudly enough for anyone listening, “Laurel would be proud.” He wrapped his arm around Tommy’s shoulders and turned their backs to the cameras. “Are you okay?” he asked quietly.
“Just a little dizzy,” Tommy said weakly. “I think it’s the heat.”
“Here,” Felicity handed him a bottle of water that she’d pulled from her purse, “drink this.”
Tommy gratefully took the water and drank its contents, “Thanks.”
“Have you eaten today?” Oliver asked a little harsher than he meant to. Tommy had been up and out of the house before Oliver had gotten out of the shower.
“I had some coffee this morning,” Tommy responded distractedly.
“Coffee isn’t food. You promised me that you’d eat,” Oliver didn’t care that he sounded like a parent scolding a child.
“I wasn’t hungry,” Tommy responded with a shrug.
“I don’t care if you’re hungry or not, you need to eat.” Oliver turned to Felicity, “Call Dig, tell him that we’re ready to go home.”
“I can’t go yet,” Tommy glanced over his shoulder and waved at the Channel 7 reporter, “I have one interview left.”
“If you faint on television, we won’t be able to make that go away,” Oliver warned.
“I’m feeling a lot better.” Tommy smiled, “The water helped. Give me five minutes.”
Oliver fumed as he watched Tommy smile for another set of cameras. “This has got to stop,” he said to Felicity.
“The antidepressants are clearly not working,” Felicity said through a fake a smile.
Oliver laughed like she’d just told him a joke, “He needs to go back to his doctor and get his prescription adjusted.”
“You don’t think he’ll go on his own?” she asked as she laughed at an imagined joke.
“I went through this with him before,” Oliver smiled and waved at the mayor, “Now that I know the signs, I won’t give him a choice this time.”
Dig pulled up at the curb and stepped out of the limo. He stood by the rear passenger door and waited with his hands patiently folded in front of him. Felicity smiled and Dig nodded his head in acknowledgment. “I wish Sara had been able to come,” Felicity said as she watched Dinah and Quentin.
“I think she’s embarrassed that Malcolm escaped from Nanda Parbat,” Oliver answered. He didn’t want to tell Felicity that he was glad that their friend hadn’t attended. He was furious that Malcolm had escaped from under her nose and he didn’t think he’d be able to mask his ire.
As if reading his thoughts Felicity said, “It wasn’t her fault. Malcolm spent a lot of years in the League. It isn’t surprising that he had friends on the inside.”
Oliver knew that Felicity was right, but his skin itched with anxiety. Malcolm was out there and, for all he knew, plotting his next move against them. Oliver wasn’t sure if they’d all survive another encounter with Malcolm. “He’s dangerous, on the loose and god knows where,” Oliver hissed.
“I’ve got facial recognition software running twenty-four hours a day.” Felicity’s hand briefly landed on his forearm, “The moment he steps on the continent, we’ll know it.”
Oliver had complete faith in Felicity’s abilities, but he also knew that Malcolm was called, The Magician, for a reason. “We need to keep our heads on a swivel,” he said simply.
“We can’t live our lives in a constant state of fear,” she said angrily before she remembered to put her bland mask in place. “Being afraid all of the time isn’t good for any of us.”
Oliver remembered a different day that seemed like a lifetime ago and yet he could remember every detail. As he stood in the heat of the July sun he could still smell Raisa’s holiday baking cooling on the counters as sleet lashed against the mansion windows.
Oliver grabbed two apples off the counter and winked at Raisa as he and Tommy walked through the kitchen on their way from the garage to their bedrooms. Tommy snagged two gingerbread men and laughed as he twisted away from Raisa who was swatting at him with her spatula. “Mrs. Queen has a guest. You boys be quiet,” she waved her kitchen utensil at them. Oliver grabbed a small orange bottle from the windowsill and slid it inside his jacket pocket. Tommy was constantly leaving his pills all over the mansion and could never find them when it was time for his morning dose. Oliver scooted by his housekeeper with a grin.
Tommy pretended to zip his lips closed and Raisa laughed as she shook her head. Nothing was going to ruin their good moods. They were off from school for the next two weeks and they were going to spend the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day skiing in Vail. Oliver tossed one of the apples to Tommy and took a gingerbread man in exchange, “What do you want to do tonight?”
Tommy bit into his apple and grinned, “She’s still not talking to you?”
In the seemingly endless cycle of on again, off again, Oliver and Laurel were currently in the off again stage of their relationship, “Nope, she’s still pretty pissed about Cindy Adams.”
“It was on the internet, Ollie,” Tommy said as they navigated the corridors of the house between the kitchen and main staircase. “I really don’t understand why she ever takes you back.”
“Hey,” Oliver pushed Tommy playfully, “you’re supposed to be on my side.”
“I am on your side,” Tommy smirked, “I just think Laurel is too smart to put up with you.”
“It was only kissing,” Oliver defended himself. “If a pretty girl sits in your lap and kisses you, it would be rude not to kiss her back.”
Tommy burst out laughing, “Please, tell me that you didn’t say that to Laurel?”
“I’m not a complete idiot,” Oliver lied. He had, in fact, tried to convince Laurel that it wasn’t his fault since Cindy Adams had kissed him first. The look Tommy shot him let him know that his best friend knew that he was lying.
“I don’t feel like going out,” Tommy said around another bite of his apple.
“Movie marathon it is.” Oliver slung his arm around Tommy’s shoulder, “Now, what’s it going to take for the movies to have been made this century?”
“Boys,” Moira called, “I need you to come into the living room.”
Oliver and Tommy looked at one another and shrugged. He worried that his mom’s visitor wasn’t on a social call. Oliver didn’t think they’d done anything to warrant being summoned to the living room. They’d both been drug free since the spring and were going light on the booze. There hadn’t been any unfortunate encounters with the paparazzi or the police for over six months. Tommy was finally starting to look healthy again. His eyes no longer looked vacant and haunted. They both dropped their bookbags on the bottom step and followed his mom into the living room.
Oliver and Tommy both froze just inside the entrance to the living room. The sound of Tommy’s apple hitting the floor seemed as loud as a tree falling in the forest. Their visitor was a most unwelcomed one. “Oliver. Tommy,” Malcolm said as he rose to his feet. “You’re looking well son.”
Tommy began to back up as he shook his head back and forth. Oliver grabbed Tommy’s elbow to stop his friend’s retreat. “Mr. Merlyn, just passing through?” Oliver asked as he casually took a bite of his apple.
“No, Oliver. My business reasons for being away have concluded and I’ve come home to spend the holidays with my son,” Malcolm said with an insincere smile. “Go pack your things, Tommy. You’re coming home with me.”
Beneath his fingers, Oliver could feel Tommy begin to tremble. A quick glance at his friend had him worried that Tommy might pass out. The color had drained from his face and even his lips had turned white. Oliver stood protectively in front of Tommy and smiled at Malcolm, “Tommy already has plans for the holidays. Isn’t that right, mom?”
Moira wrung her hands nervously, “Of course our Christmas plans include Tommy and we have made arrangements for a family ski trip.”
“I think Tommy and I have imposed on you long enough,” Malcolm said good naturedly. “I imagine Robert would like to spend time with his family and not have to entertain a guest – a guest, who I suspect, has been a handful.”
“Tommy’s not a guest,” Oliver let go of Tommy’s arm and stood directly between his friend and his father, “this is his home.”
Malcolm began to cross the living room, “I’ve had a long day of travel and I’m not going to debate this with you boys. Thomas, go get your stuff and go get it now. I’m taking you home.”
Oliver turned to tell Tommy that he didn’t have to go anywhere he didn’t want to go to find that Tommy was no longer standing behind him. Tommy was running through the foyer and heading for the front door. “Tommy,” Oliver shouted as he ran after him.
A driving wintery mix of sleet and rain was falling as Oliver ran through the open front door. He stopped on the bottom of the stone stairs to determine which way Tommy had gone. Tommy was running towards the formal gardens and Oliver ran after him. Between the rain and the setting sun, visibility was poor and keeping Tommy in sight was a challenge. The slate walkway was slippery in his school dress shoes and he actually thought about taking off his shoes and socks and running barefoot, but the rain was freezing and the ground was covered in icy puddles. Tommy was running like he was being chased by the devil himself and in a way, he was. Going home to Malcolm had been Tommy’s greatest fear since waking up in the hospital. It had been Oliver’s greatest fear too. He was terrified that Tommy would attempt suicide again if he was forced to return to his father’s abuse.
Tommy ran across the lawn that sloped down towards the river. At one point he slipped and slid down the steepest part of the lawn on his backside. At the bottom of the small hill, Tommy stood up and continued to run. Oliver doubted that Tommy had a destination in mind and was just running to run. His fall had enabled Oliver to gain on him. The brunette entered the woods and began weaving through the trees. “Tommy,” Oliver shouted to no avail.
The path Tommy was taking would eventually lead to the boathouse that had been closed up since school started. Tommy had spent almost every sunny day that summer on the river kayaking or on the bay sailing. Oliver hated every and all water sports, but the water seemed to have a healing effect on Tommy and Oliver had been willing to do whatever it took to get his friend smiling again.
When the boathouse came into view and he realized Tommy had no intention of stopping, Oliver summoned all of his reserves to sprint. Oliver stretched out his arms and grabbed Tommy around the waist. Their forward momentum sent them spinning, but Oliver managed to keep them both on their feet.
“No,” Tommy wailed and he ripped himself free from Oliver’s grasp. He fell forward and scrambled in the mud on his hands and feet as he tried to right himself.
Oliver hooked his arms around Tommy’s stomach and started to drag him towards the boathouse. Tommy’s arms flailed wildly and he was digging his heels into the mud, all the time screaming, no, over and over again. Oliver slammed them into the side of the boathouse and caged Tommy’s body between himself and the stone structure. “Tommy,” Oliver pleaded.
“I won’t go back,” Tommy sobbed as his legs gave way and he collapsed against the wall. Oliver’s arms wrapped around his chest to keep him on his feet. “I won’t go back, I won’t.”
The look in Tommy’s eyes was wild and desperate and Oliver was afraid. In the nearly eighteen years he’d known Tommy, Oliver had never seen him this unhinged or vulnerable. Tommy was shaking in Oliver’s arms and his lips had gone blue. Both of their clothes were soaked through, but Tommy was also covered in mud. “Tommy,” Oliver pleaded, but his friend seemed to look through him. Oliver hauled Tommy closer and pressed his lips against his friend’s in a chaste kiss. Tommy’s lips were like ice and Oliver needed to get him inside before they both wound up with hypothermia. With his arms still around Tommy he steered them to the boathouse’s entrance. He propped Tommy against the heavy wooden door as he bent down to retrieve the key from under the flower pot.
The inside of the boathouse was well appointed. There was a kitchenette, a bathroom, a small sitting area with a wood burning stove and an alcove overlooking the river with a daybed. Many a day, Oliver and Tommy had lounged on that bed after a day on the water.
Oliver closed the door behind them. He removed his soaking wet school blazer and let it drop to the floor. He kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks. “Tommy, you need to get out of your wet clothes.” Tommy didn’t respond. He just stood where Oliver had placed him and shook.
The pile of wood next to the stove caught Oliver’s eye and he immediately set about starting a fire. Once the wood caught and he’d flipped the switch for the generator, Oliver immediately turned his attention back to Tommy. He pulled Tommy’s blazer off and threw it on top of his own. He quickly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. “Everything is fine. You’re safe,” Oliver said as much to reassure himself as Tommy. He lifted Tommy’s t-shirt over his head and then dragged him to the sink. “I’m sorry, but this is going to be cold,” Oliver placed Tommy’s hands under the cold water and tried to pry open his left hand that was in a tight fist. When Oliver finally opened his hand, the crumbly remnants of the gingerbread man fell into the sink. The sight of it made Oliver’s chest ache. Mindful of the small cuts and scrapes, Oliver scrubbed Tommy’s mud covered hands clean and rubbed them between his own to warm them. He then grabbed a towel and wet it so he could get the mud that was splattered on Tommy’s face and neck. He led Tommy over to the day bed and pulled back the covers. Oliver pushed Tommy’s pants past his hips and down his thighs. He pressed lightly on Tommy’s chest and he complied by sitting down. Oliver knelt in front of him and removed his shoes, socks and his pants. He hissed at the new bruises developing on Tommy’s hip and side. “Lay down,” Oliver pulled the covers over Tommy. “I’m going to find some more blankets.”
Oliver stripped out of his remaining clothes and picked up their other clothes from the floor and hung them on the wooden chairs. He propped a chair beneath the doorknob and then double checked the fire in the stove and added a few logs. The boathouse wasn’t large and it wouldn’t take long to heat up. He pulled out all of the blankets in the cedar chest and piled them on top of Tommy. He then climbed into the bed and joined Tommy under the covers. Tommy laid unmoving and stared blankly at the ceiling. Oliver almost wished that he was screaming or sobbing again. “Come here,” Oliver said as helped Tommy onto his side. Oliver pressed in behind him and held his hand over Tommy’s racing heart. Oliver kissed the back of Tommy’s neck, “Talk to me, please.”
Tommy’s only response was to begin shivering violently. Oliver tried to wrap as much of his body around Tommy’s ice cold frame. Between his growth spurt and the meds his psychiatrist had put him on, Tommy was painfully thin. Oliver could count his ribs and see his vertebrae. Tommy’s collarbone and hips were pronounced and Oliver couldn’t help thinking that in his current state, if Malcolm gave him a beating now, it would surely kill him. Oliver laced his fingers through Tommy’s and tucked them beneath his chin. He moved on from kissing Tommy’s neck to his back and shoulder. With every kiss, he murmured into Tommy’s skin, “You’re safe.”
If Oliver’s dad were home, Oliver was sure Malcolm wouldn’t have walked in demanding Tommy to return home, but he wasn’t. Robert was allegedly in Russia on business, but Oliver had overheard his mother on the phone and knew that his dad was with his latest mistress, an intern not much older than his son. Without his dad there to stand up to Malcolm, Oliver wasn’t sure how they were going to keep Tommy safe from his father.
“How long before they find us?” Tommy asked through clattering teeth.
“We’re okay for a few hours. No one will think to look for us here and no one will see the smoke from the stove because of the weather.” Oliver squeezed Tommy’s hands, “Close your eyes. Try to get some sleep.”
“If he finds us like this, he’ll kill me,” Tommy said plainly. “He’s going to kill me this time, I can feel it.”
“Hey,” Oliver rolled Tommy so he was on his back, “he’s not going to find us. He’s never going to touch you again.”
Tommy turned his face away from Oliver and squeezed his eyes shut. Tears pooled along his lashes before running down his nose. “I’m not strong enough to go back there, Ollie. I’m afraid of what I’ll do if it gets bad again. It might be better if he kills me so that I won’t have to break my promise.”
Oliver’s heart skipped a beat and his stomach clenched in fear. It had been six months since Tommy’s suicide attempt and they hadn’t really discussed it beyond stopping their drug use and curtailing their alcohol consumption. “You’ll call me,” Oliver chastely kissed Tommy’s lips. “If you ever feel like giving up, you call me,” Oliver brushed his lips against Tommy’s before gently sucking on his bottom lip. Oliver smiled at Tommy and ran his fingers through his wet mop of hair that would dry curly in a way that Oliver always found sexy. “You’ll call me because you promised that you would never leave me.” He kissed Tommy tenderly without tongue. “I love you. I can’t imagine my life without you in it.”
Tommy began to cry and clung to Oliver, “I can’t go back. I can’t.”
Oliver clasped Tommy’s face, “You’re going to be eighteen in less than two months. He can’t make you do anything then. We’re going to go to college and you’ll never have to see him again. Even if he cuts you off – my trust fund is your trust fund.”
Tommy shook his head back and forth, “I won’t make it two months. I won’t even make it to next year.” His hand flew up to cover his mouth and he pushed against Oliver as he struggled to get out of the bed.
Oliver followed Tommy into the bathroom where he knelt and wretched into the toilet. His back and chest heaving so violent, Oliver feared he’d crack a rib. He knelt on the cold floor next to Tommy and rubbed his back as he brought up all of his fear and pain. The bathroom was freezing and Oliver wanted to get Tommy back into bed and under the blankets so he could think of a way to keep Malcolm away that didn’t involve dropping his body in the bay.
Once Tommy stopped vomiting, Oliver helped him to his feet and brought him back to bed. He tucked the blankets around him and went to get another washcloth and a glass of water. He wiped Tommy’s face and then helped him to sit up, “Small sips.”
Tommy drank half the glass and collapsed back onto the bed, “I’m so tired.”
“Sleep,” Oliver’s fingers trailed through Tommy’s hair, “I’ll be right here.”
Oliver waited for Tommy’s breathing to even out before he allowed himself to cry. He listened to the rain clatter on the wooden roof and watched the wind blow across the surface of the river and felt completely helpless in the face of everything that seemed stacked against them. He got out of the bed and searched to see if the grounds keeper had left anything behind when he closed the house down. There were some cans of soup in the cupboard and some clothing in a closet. He grabbed two hoodies and two pairs of sweatpants and brought them back to the bed. He placed the clothing under the blankets to warm up and got into bed next to Tommy. When Tommy woke up, Oliver would get him to put on some warm clothes and then he’d make them soup.
A knock on the door made Oliver sit straight up in bed with his heart racing. It took him a moment to take in his surroundings and remember where they were and why. Sunlight streamed through the windows overlooking the river. Tommy continued to sleep soundly and Oliver wondered if he’d imagined the knock when he heard it again.
“Oliver,” his mom said, “I know that you’re in there.”
Oliver grabbed a pair of sweatpants and sweatshirt from under the covers and pulled them on as he crossed the room to the door. He moved the chair he’d wedged under the door knob and opened the door and stepped onto the porch. “Mom,” he said shyly.
“Is he all right?” his mom asked as she stroked Oliver’s face.
Oliver folded his arms across his chest, “No, he’s the very opposite of all right.”
Moira put her hands together, as if in prayer, and held them to her lips, “I’m sorry, Oliver. I had no idea he was coming home. I would’ve taken the three of you out of school early and flown to Vail if I’d known.”
“You can’t let Malcolm take him, mom,” Oliver pleaded. “You know what Malcolm is capable of. What if Tommy dies this time?” he fell into his mom’s arms and cried.
Her arms wrapped around him, “Oh, my beautiful boy. It’s going to be okay.” She rubbed his back and then squeezed him tightly before letting go, “There’s a lot we need to discuss. Help me with this.”
There was a duffle and a thermal bag on the porch. His hand hesitated on the doorknob, “He’s asleep.”
“We’ll be quiet,” she smiled and then followed him inside.
Tommy was sitting on the daybed. He was dressed in the sweats Oliver had left on the bed and had moved a pillow and a blanket to the sofa to give the appearance that they’d slept apart. He watched Moira with fear in his eyes and he kept glancing at the door as if he were expecting his father to walk through.
“He’s not here,” Moira said as she unzipped the thermal cooler. She handed Oliver a travel coffee mug and then carried a second mug over to Tommy. She sat down next to Tommy and took hold of his hand, “I told your dad to go home and settle in. I also told him that we all had Christmas plans and that it was unfair to cancel on you children. I informed him that while he is welcomed to join us for Christmas dinner, you’re not going anywhere.”
Tommy began to cry and Moira pulled his head down to her shoulder and stroked his head, “You never have to leave if you don’t want to.”
“Thank you,” Tommy said as he sat up and wiped his eyes. He took the coffee from her and took a sip.
She clapped her hands and stood up, “Now, we’re going to eat the breakfast Raisa made for you and then we’re going to gather your things and I’m driving you back to the house. We have a tree to decorate and Raisa informs me that she has more baking to do because you two keep eating the cookies for tonight’s party faster than she can make them.”
“Do we have to go to the party?” Oliver whined. He’d rather grab some booze from the open bar and hang out in his room with Tommy.
“Of course you both have to go,” Moira smiled. “I don’t know if your dad will be back from his last minute trip in time, besides, you both look handsome in your tuxedos. I’ll be the envy of every woman with my two boys on my arms.”
“Don’t worry, Mrs. Queen. We’ll be on time and ready to dance,” he took her hand and twirled her towards the table where Oliver was setting out their meal.
Moira smiled and patted Tommy’s chest, “I’m glad one of you paid attention during your dance classes.”
Oliver rolled his eyes as he held out a chair for his mom. He couldn’t stop staring at Tommy as he tried to determine if the meltdown had been blown away overnight like the storm or if his charming mask was back in place to hide his pain. Oliver reached into his blazer pocket and removed the orange pill bottle he’d snagged the afternoon before. He placed a pill in his palm and held it out to Tommy.
Tommy rolled his eyes, but took the pill, popped it in his mouth and swallowed it down with a swig of coffee. He opened his mouth and lifted his tongue for Oliver’s benefit. He smiled and quickly reached across the table and snagged Oliver’s chocolate croissant. When Oliver protested, Tommy shrugged as he took a bite, “You weren’t eating it.”
Felicity had changed into her pajamas and was spooning Tommy who was still dressed in his suit pants and dress shirt. Felicity lifted her head when Oliver walked into their room and gave him a pleading look. He dropped his jacket and tie on the chaise and sat down on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through Tommy’s hair before taking Tommy’s hand and holding it in his lap. Tommy didn’t look up at him and continued to stare at the curtains. “I’ve forgiven my dad for a lot of things, but the one thing I’ll never forgive him for is sending you back,” Oliver said to their joined hands.
Tommy’s fingers flexed against Oliver’s, “You know why he did. It wasn’t his fault.”
Tommy was right, he did know why, now, but not when they were seventeen. Even though he understood his father’s reasons, he would still never forgive him, “He should’ve stood up for you. He didn’t stand up for anyone else, but he should’ve stood up for you.”
“Look what happened when he did stand up to my dad.” Tommy looked up at Oliver, “It cost him everything.” His eyes slid back to the wall, “I wasn’t worth losing it all for.”
Oliver had to swallow back his anger. The words were coming out of Tommy’s mouth, but they weren’t his own. The demon depression had taken hold of him and was tearing him up inside. Oliver hadn’t seen Tommy’s depression like this since their junior year of high school. As he remembered back to the time before Tommy’s suicide attempt he realized something, “Tommy, are you taking your meds?”
Tommy pulled his hand from Oliver’s and rolled away only to find Felicity waiting for his answer. He rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with his arm.
“You do realize we can see you, right?” Felicity said trying to lighten the mood. “I know when Hildy hides her head under our bed she thinks she’s developed the powers of invisibility, but you do know that doesn’t work?”
Tommy placed his feet flat on the bed and draped his other arm over his head too.
“If you’re going to behave like a child, I’ll treat you like a child,” Oliver snapped getting up from their bed and storming into their bathroom. He opened their medicine cabinet and grabbed Tommy’s pill bottle. He checked the date the prescription was filled and then spilled the pills onto the counter. He didn’t even need to count them to know what he already suspected. He filled a glass of water and took one of the pills from the counter and stalked back to the side of the bed. He tapped Tommy’s knee with the back of his hand and held out the glass and the pill, “This stops, right now.”
“You’re not taking your pills?” Felicity asked with disbelief. “How? Why?”
The more Tommy ignored them, the angrier Oliver got. “If you think I won’t shove this pill down your throat today and every day until I know that you’re okay, then you have no idea how much I love you or how seriously pissed off I am with you.”
“Oliver,” Felicity cautioned. “Tommy, why did you stop taking your pills?”
When Tommy continued to ignore them, Oliver placed the water glass and the pill on the nightstand. “You’re going to get three choices and I advise you to take the easy one. You can take the pill on your own, I will force you to swallow it, or I will call Jean Loring and have her ask a judge to have your forcibly hospitalized.” The third option got him the reaction he wanted.
Tommy lowered his arms and he glared at Oliver, “You wouldn’t.”
“Try me.” He pointed to the nightstand, “Take your motherfucking pill, Tommy.”
“No,” Tommy tried to push past Oliver, but his boyfriend was having none of it.
Oliver took hold of Tommy’s biceps and held him in place. Tommy averted his eyes and he looked so broken that Oliver felt all of his anger melt away. Tommy had been bullied by Malcolm his whole life, he didn’t need to be bullied by the man he loved. Oliver shifted his grip and held Tommy in his arms, “Please, talk to me. Talk to us. Why did you stop taking your meds?” Tommy remained stiff in his arms. Oliver pressed a kiss to Tommy’s cheek, “Please.”
“I’m not going to take them,” Tommy pushed out of Oliver’s arms, “and you can threaten me all you want, I still won’t take them. I’m not discussing this with you.”
“The hell you’re not,” Oliver was back to shouting.
“You can’t control everything,” Tommy said as he began to pace, “and you can’t control me.”
“Damn it,” Oliver continued to shout, “this has nothing to do with control. This has everything to do with you being sick and stopping your meds.”
“I won’t go back on them, I won’t,” Tommy shouted as he tried to storm from their room.
Oliver hopped over the bed and blocked the door, “We’re not done until you tell us why you stopped taking them.”
“They make me fuzzy,” Tommy said clutching his head. “He’s out there, waiting for his moment. I can’t be fuzzy. I need to be able to think.”
“Tommy,” Oliver reached for him but stopped when Tommy flinched. “You can’t go on like this. You’re not thinking clearly now.”
“I was on my meds when he grabbed me the last time,” Tommy pulled on his hair, “I won’t let him grab me again.”
Oliver took hold of Tommy’s hands and held them to his chest, “I know you’re afraid that he’ll come back, but I’m worried about you, right now.”
“I’m fine,” Tommy insisted.
“I’m sorry, but your solution of not doing anything, isn’t a solution. You’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, you’re having nightmares,” Oliver sighed. “Have you looked at yourself?” He pulled Tommy’s shirt free from his pants and began to unbutton it. Oliver removed his boyfriend’s shirt and undershirt and led him to stand in front of their mirror and stood behind him. Tommy’s eyes remained trained on the floor. “Look at yourself,” Oliver said as he ran his hand across Tommy’s chest and ribs. “You’re hurting the man I love,” Oliver said into the skin below Tommy’s ear. “How can you ask me to do nothing when you’re hurting yourself?” Oliver kissed Tommy’s neck, “I love you, so much. Please stop hurting yourself. Let us help you.”
“I’ll start eating,” Tommy offered, “I promise.”
“That’s not good enough,” Oliver nuzzled his neck and he held Tommy tighter against his chest, “I need you to go back on your meds.”
“I can’t,” Tommy began to cry, “I can’t, don’t ask me to.”
Felicity wrapped her arms around Tommy and placed her ear over his heart, “The whole time we were in Nanda Parbat, you were so strong for me. You fought for me and kept me alive. Let us be strong for you. Trust us to keep you safe.”
“As long as he’s alive we’ll never be safe,” Tommy rested his head on top of Felicity’s. “From the moment he first hit me, I’ve always known the truth, this only ends when one of us is dead.”
“Listen to me,” Oliver turned Tommy so he was facing him, “you’ve been like this once before and I didn’t know what I was dealing with until it was too late. I won’t ever make that mistake again. I’m sorry that the meds make you fuzzy, but fuzzy is better than what you are now.”
“What?” Tommy laughed bitterly, “Crazy?”
“No one said, crazy,” Felicity hugged Tommy’s arm.
“The word he wants to use, but won’t is, suicidal,” Tommy sneered.
“Are you suicidal?” Oliver felt his legs go weak with fear.
“Every time I get upset you can’t always jump to what happened when I was a teenager,” Tommy wrenched himself free from their embrace.
“You’re more than just upset,” Oliver said, “you’ve shut down.”
“I’m fine,” Tommy said as he tugged on his hair, “you’re completely overreacting.”
Felicity approached Tommy with her hands up in supplication, “Babe, we both love you and we’re just worried about you. You’re not yourself.”
“Not myself or not Tommy who does what he’s told and makes things easy?” he grabbed his shirt from their bed and pulled it on over his head.
Oliver scoffed as he ran his hand over his mouth, “When, exactly, did you ever make things easy?”
“Fuck you, Ollie,” Tommy said as he moved to leave their room.
Felicity ducked by him and braced her hands on the doorframe. “Please, Tommy, don’t run from us. Let’s go downstairs and have something to eat and talk about it.”
Tommy dropped his gaze from Felicity’s, “Let me pass.”
“You promised me,” Felicity’s entire body shook as she took his hand and placed it over her breast, “you promised me that you would never leave me. No matter what, you promised.”
“He’s coming for me, I can feel it,” Tommy said desperately.
“No matter what happens, we’ll face it together,” Felicity promised. "Tomorrow, we'll go see your doctor and tell him that you feel fuzzy and he'll adjust your meds."
Tommy dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her waist. He buried his face against her stomach and began to weep. Felicity’s ran her fingers through his hair and looked at Oliver helplessly.
He dropped to his knees behind Tommy and wrapped them both in his arms. He pressed his lips behind Tommy’s ear and whispered, “You’re safe. We’ve got you.”
When Tommy had cried himself out he extricated himself from his lovers’ arms. He retrieved the pill and glass of water from the nightstand and took a deep breath before he swallowed the pill. He turned to face Oliver, holding up his empty hands and opening his mouth and lifting his tongue. “Happy?” he asked sullenly.
“Will you let me make you dinner?” Oliver threaded his fingers through Tommy’s.
“I’ll even eat it,” Tommy grinned in spite of himself.
Oliver pulled Tommy into his arms and kissed the side of his neck, “Thank you.”