Chapter Text
Oliver sprinted through the trees as fast as his legs could carry him, feeling the rocks and dirt scraping against his bare feet. He swung from a low-hanging branch to jump over a ditch and continued to run. Soon enough, he reached a cluster of nearly-vertical, 20-foot tall rocks. He climbed it within seconds, fingers effortlessly finding the right grooves. He reached the top just in time to see the fishing vessel off the coast.
Racing against the clock, he sprinted across the rocky cliff until he found his supplies. Oliver hastily unwrapped his arrows and lit the pitch at the end of an arrow on fire. He drew, aimed, and fired. His arrow sailed into a prepared pile of wood and C4, creating an explosion large enough to be seen from many miles away.
Minutes later, the boat turned and began to make its way towards the island. Oliver’s heart soared. This is it… after all these years… I’m finally going home. I’m coming back to you, Thea.
Eight years ago, he had boarded the Queen’s Gambit, eager to explore more of the world and spend some rare quality time with his father. Robert, workaholic that he was, rarely spared him the time of day. So when he’d asked Oliver to come on the business trip with him, he’d jumped at the chance.
Ollie’s relationship with his parents had always been complicated to say the least. He was on a never-ending quest to earn their approval, or even just a second of their attention. As a kid, Oliver had never been able to sit still and focus on anything for very long. He’d always learned best by doing. Things like art, sports, and mechanics— such as working on the planes with Dad— came naturally to him. But book-learning and lectures, where he felt like every other word was going in one ear and out the other… Needless to say, his grades had always been average at best. Thus, no matter how much he excelled in things outside of classwork, he was always seen as a disappointment. He simply couldn’t compete with the likes of Carter Bowen, with his perfect grades and perfect smile.
Halfway through his freshman year of high school, he finally figured: What was the point? What was the point of running himself into the ground, trying desperately to improve his grades, only to wind up with B’s and C’s across the board? What was the point of teaching himself to build a radio from scratch or learning everything there was to know about boats, if his dad was never going to care enough to notice? What was the point of drawing or painting one more picture, hoping this one would finally end up displayed on the fridge?
And so he gave up. He started flunking classes, playing hooky, partying, drinking, and smoking weed. He told himself that he didn’t give a flying fuck if mommy and daddy paid him any attention, but he was lying to himself. A big part of the reason Ollie was going off the rails was because he hoped they’d care enough to stop him. To ground him or discipline him like normal parents. Yet no matter how much trouble Oliver got into, they only spared him enough attention to bail him out of said trouble.
The closest thing he had to a real, caring mother was Raisa—their housekeeper. It was her that cooked for him, bandaged scraped knees, and helped him with his homework. She even started teaching him how to cook when he was twelve, and it quickly became one of his favorite things to do with her. And Quentin Lance, his best friend Laurel’s dad, was more of a father to him than Robert ever was. He welcomed him into his home and taught Oliver right from wrong (not that the lessons always stuck). He praised him when he did something good and disciplined him when he did something wrong.
Moira and Robert were equally negligent with Oliver’s baby sister, Thea. She was five years younger than him, and from the moment she was born, she was Oliver’s whole world. He played with her, read to her, and taught himself how to braid her hair. And not just any plain braid, he did the fancy stuff! He’s the one that taught her how to read. How to tie her shoelaces. How to ride a bicycle. He was more of a parent to her than their actual mom and dad.
Every cold, black night for the past eight years, he’d dreamt of going home to her. To do so, to live, he’d had to make himself more than what he was. He had to forge himself into a weapon. He would be returning not as the boy who’d been shipwrecked, but as a man who would bring justice to those that had poisoned his city. A man who would do everything in his power to make his city safe for his baby sister to call home.
The men on the boat thankfully knew a bit of English, and they were kind enough to let Oliver borrow their satellite phone. He could have spoken to them in Mandarin, but that would pose questions that he didn’t want to answer. The first person he called was his mom.
“Hello?”
“Mom,” Oliver choked out, voice cracking. While she’d never been a good parent by any stretch of the word, he at least always knew that she loved him. Despite everything, she was still his mom, and God, he’d missed her so much.
“Who is this?” Her voice sharpened dangerously, and it sounded like she was on the verge of hanging up.
“Mom—Mom, it’s me. It’s Oliver—please don’t hang up. I’m alive, and I’m coming home.”
“Ol-Oliver? Is that really you, baby?” Mom said, voice trembling.
“Yeah, it’s really me,” he said shakily, tears beginning to slip down his cheeks. It had been so long since he’d been able to talk to her—to any of his loved ones. It felt surreal. “I love you, Mom.”
“I love you too, baby,” she said. The phone crackled strangely over her words.
“Mom?” The phone continued to crackle like a radio between stations. “Mom, are you there?”
There was no answer, and Oliver assumed they’d hit a dead zone. He put the phone down, disappointed yet elated all at once. The entire way to Hong Kong, he ran scenarios in his head—how his reunion with Thea would go, how it would go with his mom, what he would say, what they would say. He imagined how different everyone was since he’d last seen them six years ago during his ARGUS mission in Starling City. How would they react to who he was now? Would they be disappointed?
How was his Mom? Had his and Dad’s deaths forced her into actually parenting Thea, or was she still as absent as ever? Had she remarried?
How was Thea? She would be nineteen now—a boggling thought to Oliver, who remembered her as a tiny eleven-year-old and caught only a brief glimpse of her at thirteen. Was she still doing drugs, even after Oliver had killed her dealer? He still wondered how and why she’d started doing them at such a young age. Was she in college now? If so, was she doing well in school, or was she following in the footsteps of Oliver’s rebellious phase? His partying days were probably her clearest memories of him, and that saddened him.
He reached into his pocket and brought out his battered wallet. Opening it, he pulled out a very faded photograph. It was a picture of Thea at her eighth birthday party. She was dressed in a purple princess dress, a sparkly tiara askew on her blonde head. She was grinning with all her teeth, displaying her missing front teeth. Oliver brushed a thumb over her face and then gently slid the picture back into his wallet. He didn’t want it to get damaged.
His mind drifted to his friends. Laurel… he’d never gotten the chance to admit he had feelings for her. He was going to tell her after he returned from China… but he never did. She probably had a boyfriend (or girlfriend) now. Hell, she might even be married. After all this time away from her, his feelings had mostly faded, but part of him mourned that he never got the chance to try with her. And now… now he was too much of a monster to deserve her.
And Sara, Laurel’s sister… Had her own rebellious phase fizzled out? She had tried to sneak on the boat with Oliver, but he had quickly shot her down. Laurel would kill him if he let her fourteen-year-old little sister go to China with him. Not to mention what Mr. Lance would do to him. When the boat went down, he was eternally grateful that he hadn’t let her come with him.
And Tommy… he missed his best friend desperately. The last he’d seen of him, Oliver had to kidnap him and convince him that he had died when the Gambit went down. How was he now? Did he go to college? Was he still in school or did his dad force him to start working at Merlyn Global? Was he still drinking and partying a little too hard, like he had been when Oliver came to Starling all those years ago?
Trying to get his mind off of his worries about his loved ones, he let his thoughts drift to his mission. He’d need to wait a couple months before starting his crusade so that people wouldn’t connect Oliver Queen’s miraculous return with the new vigilante. During that time, he could set up his base. He was thinking he’d check out the basement of his father’s old steel factory. And if it worked out, he’d need some kind of cover, a reason for him going there all the time. Preferably something that would help the Glades. A soup kitchen, maybe?
After several frustrating days at the Hong Kong Embassy and then many hours on a plane, he finally found himself back in Starling City. Despite his protests that he’d been deemed in perfect health at the Embassy, they took him straight to Starling General Hospital. After being poked and prodded at, and asked a lot of questions about his scars that he refused to answer, they finally left him alone. He stood up from the bed and wandered over to the window, relishing his view of the city. This was his home… and he was going to do everything in his power to save it from itself.
His father had failed this city (“Survive, son,” Dad said right before the shot rang out.), and it was up to Oliver to rectify his mistakes. He wouldn’t fail—no, he couldn’t fail. He needed to do right by his city, to strike fear into the hearts of every greedy businessman and criminal who dared to step on the heads of hard-working citizens to get ahead. The Kapuishon was coming to Starling City, and everyone on the List would soon learn exactly what kind of monster he was.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his mom and Dr. Lamb talking in the hallway outside his room. The door was cracked, but he could hear every word as if they were standing right next to him. The island and everything that came after had enhanced his senses, especially his hearing. It was a useful skill, but sometimes he hated that he couldn’t dial down his senses. In crowded places, they could get overwhelming.
“Oliver?” Mom said from behind him, her voice clearer. She had stepped tentatively inside the room. Oliver turned, feeling his lips tug up into a small smile at the sight of her. She was just as beautiful and perfectly put-together as she was eight years ago.
“Mom,” he responded warmly. She walked quickly over to him, throwing her arms around him in a hug. She smelled different— someone’s cologne? He tensed at first, but he forced himself to relax. It’s just Mom. I’m home. I’m safe. I’m free.
“Oh, my beautiful boy,” she said tearfully. She pulled back from the hug to cup his face between her hands. “You’ve grown up so much.”
“Yeah, a little less acne, a little more facial hair,” he joked lightly. She ran her fingers over said facial hair, which was just a bit longer than a five o’clock shadow. He looked towards the door, frowning.
“What’s wrong, honey?”
“Where’s Thea?” He asked, confused at her absence. Your brother coming back from the dead seems like an odd occasion to miss.
“She has midterms this week,” his mother said apologetically. “She’s been doing so much better in school this semester, so she didn’t want to miss any classes. She should be back by the time we get home.”
“Oh, okay,” he said, not bothering to mask his disappointment. Then, he smiled proudly, “She’s in college? Where is she attending? What’s she majoring in?”
“Starling City University. She’s majoring in business management.”
“Well, she was always bossy. I’m sure that’s right up her alley,” he said with another fond smile. He was glad to hear that she was doing well in school—hopefully she’d stopped doing drugs.
They quickly discharged him, and he made his way out to the waiting car with his mother. The press was on them as soon as they were out of the front door, shouting questions and cameras flashing. His brain went on overload, taking in all the noises and other stimuli. His heart rate sped up, and he stuffed his shaking right hand in his jeans pocket—he’d gotten some jeans and t-shirts during his stay at the Hong Kong Embassy. His other hand tightly gripped onto his munitions case. He walked as quickly as he could towards their vehicle, his mother gripping his elbow tightly the whole time. Her touch was grounding.
He released a long breath when they finally made it into the safety of the car. The tension in his shoulders gradually lessened. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. It had taken a lot of time and effort to learn how to still his constantly racing thoughts and fidgeting hands. But now, he fell easily into the meditation techniques taught to him by Tatsu and the League.
Mom thankfully remained quiet, seeming to get the hint that he needed some peace and quiet. After about five minutes, he opened his eyes. She gave him a worried look.
“Are you alright, Oliver? I’m sorry, I should have warned you about the press.”
“I’m fine,” he replied automatically. “I just… wasn’t prepared for it. After all this time, I honestly kind of forgot about the press. They can be rather overwhelming, can’t they?”
“They can. Perhaps you should just keep to the mansion for the next several days. Get used to being home before you face the city.”
“That sounds like a great idea, Mom. I think I just want to spend time with family and friends right now anyways. I’ve missed everyone.”
“And we’ve missed you. It’s wonderful to have you home, Oliver,” Mom said, eyes teary again. He smiled at her— he had been doing that a lot today. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled so much. His face kind of hurt.
“So what’s been going on in your life while I’ve been becoming one with nature? Eight years is a long time. I’m sure lots has changed,” he said delicately.
“Oh, not too much, really,” his mom said, but she was being rather obviously facetious. “Thea went through a bit of a rebellious phase—like you when you were in your teens. But she’s grown out of it in the past year. She’s doing much better in school, and she’s finally hanging out with the right crowd. You’d be proud of her.”
“I always am,” Oliver said sincerely. Even when he’d discovered she was doing drugs, he’d still been proud of her. He’d been worried about her of course, and he’d wanted to give her a long lecture about the dangers of substance abuse. But she was alive, and he couldn’t ask for more.
“She can’t wait to see you. She always looked up to you more than anyone. It hit her hard when you… when the Gambit went down. It hit us all hard,” Mom said sorrowfully.
“I missed her more than anyone,” he admitted quietly. “I can’t wait to see her either.”
They descended into an easy silence for a few minutes.
“I’ve invited Tommy and the Lances over for dinner. They’re all very eager to see you. I hope that’s alright.”
“Of course. I look forward to seeing them.”
Soon enough, they rolled to a stop in the driveway of the Queen Mansion. Oliver got out of the car, staring up at the house. How many times had he dreamt of this exact situation, only to wake up and find himself sleeping in the dirt on Lian Yu?
The driver walked around to the trunk, opening it with the click of a button. He was reaching for the munitions case when Oliver grabbed his wrist and shook his head.
“It’s okay, I’ve got it,” he said firmly. The idea of someone even touching the handle nearly sent him into fight mode. He took a deep breath to dial back his aggression as he lifted the wooden case from the trunk.
He stepped through the front door, absently noting the middle-aged black man standing in the foyer that tried to greet him. Oliver didn’t pay him any mind, too busy taking in the nostalgic sight of his childhood home. It was just how he remembered it. He was really home.
“Oliver, this is Walter Steele—your father’s friend from the company. Do you remember him?” His mother said. Oliver didn’t acknowledge her words, bee-lining for the familiar face he saw.
“It’s wonderful to see you, Raisa,” he greeted warmly, coming to a stop in front of the middle-aged Russian woman.
“Welcome home, Mr. Oleever,” she smiled at him, face glowing with joy. He smiled back and pulled her into a hug. She hugged him back tightly. Oliver pulled away when he heard the upstairs floorboards creaking.
He walked to the base of the stairs, staring up in anticipation. Moments later, a young woman appeared at the top landing. She was thin, and she had long, wavy blonde hair. She stood there for a moment, staring down at him with wide, sky blue eyes. Then, she was racing down the steps and throwing herself into his arms. Oliver caught her and spun her around once before setting her on her feet. He kept his arms wrapped around her, leaning forward to rest his chin over her shoulder.
“Ollie!” Thea exclaimed. Then, her voice softened to almost a whisper, “I knew you were alive. I missed you so much.”
“You were with me the whole time,” Oliver said sincerely, blinking back tears and breathing in her scent. It was floral, with an undertone of vanilla.
Eventually, they pulled away from the hug to smile at each other. Oliver cupped her cheek and drank in the sight of her, “Last time I saw you, you were a tiny eleven-year-old. You’ve grown up so much… You look beautiful, Thea.”
“Thank you,” Thea said with a teary laugh. “You’ve grown up too. Last time I saw you, you were a teenager with floppy hair and acne.”
Her eyes scanned over him, pausing on his arms and broad shoulders. Her eyebrows rose, and she reached out to squeeze his bicep, “What kind of workout routine did you have on that island? You’re jacked!”
Oliver laughed brightly, startling himself with the sound. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so freely and genuinely. He felt lighter than he had in years.
“There wasn’t much to do on the island other than hunt, eat, sleep, and workout,” he said simply. It wasn’t a complete lie— in the eight months between Fyers’ death and Ivo’s arrival on Lian Yu, there really hadn’t been much to do. He, Shado, and Slade spent most of their time training once they’d finished hunting down Fyers’ men. Well, they’d trained when Shado and Slade weren’t busy having disgustingly loud sex with each other. When they did, Oliver usually found himself wandering off to explore— not that they knew that. They would have killed him if they found out he was going off on his own.
“Hunt?” Thea said curiously. “I guess I didn’t really think about it before, but how did you learn to do that?”
“See this? This is called arrowroot,” Yao Fei’s voice echoed in his head. He could almost feel himself crouched on the forest floor beside him and hear his mentor explaining how to identify edible plants.
“Bend your knees more. It’ll lower your center of gravity and absorb the shock of each step,” Slade said patiently, pushing down on his shoulders. “Now each step, start with the outer ball of your foot to feel for twigs and then roll inward. Slower.”
“I see my target in the distance. I feel the variation in the wind. I hear the bow string tighten. And I let go,” Shado said. “Now try again. Less thinking.”
Oliver forcefully pushed away the memories as he vaguely said, “You’d be surprised at what you can do when you have no other choice.”
“Maybe so,” Thea said, looking at him thoughtfully. Then, a teasing smile tugged at her lips, “What did you use? A bow and arrow? Remember when I used to take lessons?”
“I remember,” Oliver said with a fond smile. It was nice to have something in common with her, even if she could never know it. He couldn’t reveal his talent with archery— it would be too suspicious once he started his mission. “I mostly used makeshift spears and knives, actually. I wouldn’t know the first thing about making a bow.”
“Makes sense.”
“Oliver, dear, I’ll show you to your room,” Mom interrupted. “It’s just how you left it. I didn’t have the heart to change a thing.”
When he saw his room, it felt almost like stepping into a memory. His dirty clothes were still haphazardly strewn across the floor. His bed was unmade, comforter strewn sideways across the outrageously large king-sized bed. There were several posters of half-naked women on the walls, put there to piss off his parents. The room was dust-free, so someone must come in to keep things relatively clean. Probably Raisa.
It was actually unnerving how perfectly persevered it all was. He wasn’t that lost, rebellious boy anymore. He hadn’t been in a long time. That Ollie Queen was long dead, and he felt like he was intruding on a shrine to him.
“I’ll leave you to get settled in,” Mom said, leaving with one last smile. Thea hovered hesitantly in the doorway, obviously not wanting to go.
“You can come in, Speedy. I don’t mind,” Oliver said as he gently set his case down at the end of his bed. She entered and perched on the end of his bed.
“Worst nickname ever,” she groaned, but there was a smile on her face.
“Well, chasing after me like a shadow, I thought it fit,” he said with a fond smile as he crouched in front of the case.
“What’s in there?” She asked curiously, pointing at it. He tensed unconsciously and then forced his shoulders to relax. When he spoke, it was with careful nonchalance.
“Oh, not much. Just a few things from the island. I actually have something for you.”
“You came back from a deserted island with souvenirs?”
He opened the case fractionally so that she couldn’t see inside it, grabbing the arrowhead shaped rock and holding it out to his sister. She grabbed it and turned it around in her hands, “A rock?”
“It’s a Hozen. In Buddhism, it’s a symbol of reconnection. I kept it… in hopes that some day, it would reconnect me with you,” he said warmly. The Hozen was connected to a lot of bad memories. It felt nice to have it represent something good.
“Thank you, Ollie,” Thea said sincerely. “It means a lot to me that you thought about me while you were… while you were gone.”
“I thought about you every day,” he said gently, pulling his wallet out to hand her the faded picture. He sat next to her on the bed. “Some days… this picture was the only thing keeping me going. I pushed myself to survive, knowing that I needed to get back to my baby sister.”
A tear slipped down Thea’s cheek as she looked at the picture, running a thumb across it. Then, she gingerly handed it back to him and threw her arms around him in another hug. He draped one arm around her, pulling her into his side.
“I’m glad you’re here, Ollie. It hasn’t been the same without you,” she mumbled into his shoulder. He rubbed her shoulder, leaning his head on top of hers.
“It’s good to be home.”
They spent the next couple hours catching up. It was mostly Thea talking. Oliver had no desire to talk about the island, so he was content to listen. She talked about school, her college friends, and there was even a “friend” she talked about that Oliver was pretty sure was actually her boyfriend. He didn’t push the topic, figuring she’d tell him when she was ready.
It was nice to hear about her life and some of the things he’d missed, but it was also a sad reminder that he’d missed so much of her life. He hadn’t been there when she got her first car. Or when she’d wrecked that same car within two months (she didn’t say it, but Oliver suspected she wasn’t sober when it happened). He hadn’t been there to see her in her high school prom dress or to threaten her date. He hadn’t been there for her graduation or when she received her acceptance letter into college. Thea showed him pictures, but it wasn’t the same.
Tommy featured in many of the photos— it seemed that he had been there for her in every moment that Oliver couldn’t be. This simultaneously gladdened him and filled him with jealousy. A juvenile part of himself moaned that it wasn’t fair. Why did Tommy get to play big brother while Oliver was fighting for survival on an island? Why did Tommy get to party and hook up with hot women while Oliver was tortured and used as a weapon?
Life isn’t fair, he snapped at himself internally. Get over yourself and just be grateful you’re alive.
Before they knew it, Raisa was lightly knocking on the door and telling them it was time for dinner. When he got to the foyer, he saw Tommy standing there, looking right at him.
“What did I tell you, man? Yachts suck,” Tommy greeted him with a slightly wobbly grin.
“Tommy Merlyn,” Oliver said, hastening down the last of the steps to pull him into a hug. “I missed you, buddy.”
“I missed you too.”
He heard the approaching footsteps before he saw the front door open behind Tommy. Laurel stepped through, followed by Sara and Quentin. He pulled away from Tommy to greet them.
“Ollie?” Laurel said, voice choked with emotion. Oliver could only stare for a moment, taking in the sight of her. She’d grown from a pretty girl into a gorgeous woman.
“Hi, Laurel. I missed you,” Oliver said as she pulled him into a fierce hug. He hugged back just as tightly, burrowing his head in her hair. She still smelled the same as she had eight years ago—like citrus and lavender. After several long moments, they pulled back from each other, both wiping tears from their cheeks. “Hi, Sara, Mr. Lance. It’s great to see you both.”
Sara was the next one to pull him into a tight hug. For a moment, he was startled at her appearance. The last time he’d seen her, she was only fourteen. Now, she was twenty-two.
“Hi, Ollie. It’s good to have you back.”
“It’s good to be back.”
Oliver held his hand out to Mr. Lance for a handshake, but the man ignored it and pulled him into a hug. Oliver froze in shock for a moment before he hugged back tightly.
“It’s good to see you too, kid,” Mr. Lance said gruffly. He pulled back from the embrace, clearing his throat and darting his gaze away.
As he walked past where the black man from earlier—Walter?— was seated, he picked up a familiar scent. It was the same cologne that his mother had smelled like earlier. He sent a surreptitious glance to her left hand, and sure enough, there was a ring there—different from the one she used to wear. So she did remarry. The realization sent a pang through his heart, but he pushed aside the feeling. It’s been eight years. She deserves happiness.
Soon enough, they all found themselves seated in the dining room. Oliver took a bite of the steak in front of him. He chewed it for a long while before swallowing. A nauseated look crossed his face. He looked at the rest of his plate, but the cheesy broccoli and onion rings seemed even more heavy and unappealing.
“Could I get you something else, Mr. Oleever?” Raisa said quietly.
“A pear. Do you have any pears?”
“I’ll see what I can find, sir.”
“So what did you miss? Super Bowl winners— Patriots, Steelers, Colts, Giants, Steelers again, Saints, Packers, and Giants again. Oh, uh, black president, that’s new. Oh, and Laurel’s a lawyer now. Our little overachiever flew through her undergrad and law school,” Tommy said with a grin.
“A lawyer? You always said you would be one,” Oliver smiled at her. She grinned shyly back, blushing slightly. And in a rush, all those feelings he thought disappeared came flooding back. He looked away quickly, admonishing himself. She probably has a boyfriend. Don’t get your hopes up. Besides, in what world would a monster like you deserve her?“Where do you work? Some big shot law office?”
“Well, I got an offer at one. But I actually work at CNRI— City Necessary Resources Initiative. I interned there in my last year of law school and have been working there for over a year now,” she said enthusiastically. “It’s a nonprofit. We provide legal aid to low-income individuals, mostly people in the Glades.”
“Really? That’s amazing,” Oliver said genuinely. It made him happy to hear that there were people that were genuinely trying to help the people in the Glades. And of course Laurel would work at a place like that, she’d always had a big heart to match her big brain. “Although isn’t twenty-three a bit young to become a lawyer?”
Quentin, Sara, and Tommy gave Laurel proud looks that made her blush. Sara bragged, “Yeah, Little Miss Overachiever here finished her undergrad at twenty.”
“I took a lot of dual enrollment in high school!” Laurel said defensively, shifting awkwardly in her chair and staring down at the table.
“How is CNRI funded?” Oliver asked, taking pity on her and changing the subject.
“Mostly through donations,” Laurel said, seeming a bit surprised at the question.
“Have you made a donation, Mom?”
“Yes. In fact, we donate every year.”
“That’s good to hear. What have you been up to, Tommy?”
“I’m actually in med school right now,” he said casually. He seemed strangely anxious beneath the calm-and-cool facade. “I didn’t want to follow in dear old dad’s footsteps, so I figured I’d follow in Mom’s. I’m hoping to take over the clinic once I’m done with school.”
“That sounds like a great idea, Tommy. You could help a lot of people that way,” Oliver said, sending his best friend a small smile. Tommy grinned back widely, looking relieved. Had he thought Oliver would disapprove for some reason?
Oliver was happy to hear that his friends were doing so much to help the city. It felt good to have so much in common with them, even after all their years apart from each other. At the same time, he couldn’t help feeling a bit out of place. Here Laurel and Tommy were, a lawyer and going through med school respectively, while Oliver hadn’t even gotten a high school diploma. Hell, even his baby sister was in college now.
Oliver knew he wasn’t dumb— he wouldn’t have survived the past eight years if he was. But it was difficult not to feel stupid and inadequate next to the people at this table. Maybe while he was waiting to start his crusade, he could study to get his GED?
“What about you, Sara? What are you up to?” Oliver asked, shaking himself out of his self-deprecating thoughts.
“I’m actually a police officer at SCPD,” she said brightly. She’d always been a chipper, happy-go-lucky type of girl, and he was glad to see that hadn’t changed. He was, however, surprised by her choice in profession. He felt his eyebrows raise involuntarily.
“Really? That’s… not what I expected,” he admitted.
“Not long after the Gambit went down, something happened to me,” Sara said, gaze going distant. “I was in a really rough place for a while, but eventually, I decided that I wanted to stop what happened to me from happening to other people.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. But I must say, there’s no better family than the Lances to help protect Starling City,” Oliver said sincerely, wondering what had happened. He had his suspicions, but he hoped he was wrong.
The table fell silent, the only sounds being the scraping of forks and knives against plates and chewing. Oliver pushed the food around with a fork, not daring to take another bite.
Thea was the one to break the silence, looking at Oliver, “What was it like there?”
He froze, gunshots and screams of agony echoing in his head. He swallowed past his suddenly dry throat and forced his expression to give nothing away as he met her eyes, “Cold.”
It seemed to register that she’d done something wrong. She winced and mouthed ‘sorry’ to him, but he just shook his head with a reassuring tilt of his lips. Tommy, thankfully, rescued the awkward moment.
“Tomorrow. You and me, we’re doing the city. You’ve got a lot to catch up on,” he said, pointing at Oliver.
“That sounds like a great idea,” Mom said happily. What happened to getting used to being home first? Oliver thought, exasperated.
“Actually,” Oliver said hesitantly, “I don’t think I’m ready for the city yet. I was thinking… maybe a movie day? I don’t know what yours and Thea’s schedules are like…”
“I was able to get tomorrow and Friday off, so I’m all yours, buddy.”
“I have classes until 3:30pm tomorrow,” Thea said morosely. “And I have two huge midterms that I’ve been studying for for ages, so I can’t skip…”
“It’s alright, Thea, you can join us when you’re done,” Oliver said. “Laurel, Sara? Any chance you two can join us?”
“I have work,” they both said simultaneously. Then, Laurel said, “But I can come afterwards. I get off at five. I usually stay until six, but I can make an exception just this once.”
“I get off at five as well. I’ll definitely be here!”
Raisa tripped beside Oliver, dropping the fruit bowl she was holding. He deftly grabbed onto her elbow to steady her and caught the fruit bowl.
“Oh! I’m so sorry, Mr. Oleever.”
“Ni diya kogo ne volnuites,” he responded in Russian without thinking. He’d been immersed in the language and culture of Russia for the past year, so it was instinctual for him to respond in her mother tongue. (Translation: it’s alright, don’t worry).
“Dude, you speak Russian?” Tommy said with a confused head shake.
“I didn’t know Berlanti Prep offered Russian classes,” Walter said, surprised. Everyone else looked similarly shocked.
“They don’t. I’m a man of many mysteries,” he deflected with a slightly forced laugh. For a moment, he had debated deflecting with “I didn’t know you wanted to sleep with my mother,” but that would have been incredibly rude and antagonistic. It had been eight years— Mom deserved happiness in whatever form that took. If Walter made her happy, which he seemed to, then Oliver was glad to have him around.
But it would probably be good to acknowledge that he knew about Walter and Mom’s marriage. Thus, he continued with a smile and a nod to his mother, “Congratulations.”
“I’m sorry?” She said, confused.
“On your marriage.”
Mom gave Thea an accusing look, and she defensively said, “What? I didn’t say anything.”
“She didn’t have to. You’re wearing a different ring,” Oliver said, nodding at her hand.
“Oliver, I don’t want you to think either one of us did anything to disrespect your father—“
“Mom, it’s fine. It’s been eight years since dad died. I’m happy you were able to move on. Welcome to the family, Walter.”
“Thank you, Oliver.”
“It’s been a long day. May I be excused?” Oliver said politely, grabbing a pear from the bowl Raisa had left on the table. It had been a long time since he’d been in any kind of normal social situation. As great as it was to see everyone, it was taking a lot of effort to make conversation. Not to mention he hadn’t slept in around thirty-six hours. He had been too anxious and hypervigilant to sleep on the plane and in the hospital. Even at the Embassy, he’d only managed a few hours each night.
“Of course. Goodnight, Oliver,” his mother said easily. Everyone else at the table bid him goodnight, and he made a hasty escape.
Tommy called after him, “I’ll come by at eleven tomorrow!”