The first sign that everything was about to change was when William insisted on doing his own laundry. At first, Oliver thought maybe William had reverted to wetting the bed like he'd done in those particularly hard first few months after Samantha's death.

"If your dreams are that bad, we could always set some appointments with Dr. Schuster again," Oliver suggested as he watched William load the washer.

"I'm not having bad dreams," William mumbled.

"Well, obviously you are if you're wetting the bed."

William gave the dial on the washer a harsh crank before turning to Oliver. He turned a dull red. "I don't need more therapy, I'm not wetting the bed, and I definitely wouldn't describe my dreams as bad."

A light went on for Oliver. Good dreams. Apparently very good dreams.

"Oh," Oliver said quietly and wandered away to contemplate the fact that this what not a drill.

The next sign was all the time William spent in the bathroom. Not just the normal, time-that-shall-not-be-mentioned that would accompany a pre-teen who had recently started having 'good dreams' but also the amount of time William spent making sure his hair looked just like he wanted and his clothes hung just the way he wanted. And the things that ended up in the cart when they went grocery shopping. Hair gel. Acne cream. Woodsy smelling body wash. Body spray. It wasn't kid stuff anymore.

Oliver actually found himself sad one afternoon as he waited on the couch for William to finish mooning over himself in the mirror before they could go out to eat dinner and catch a movie. Oliver could see the baby fat was starting to melt away, slowly replaced by hints of the hard angles of the man William would eventually grow to be. William's voice was making its first crackling forays into changing. It made Oliver realize that he had missed the cute years. The giggling years. The stumbling around, discovering the world. Oliver was getting to witness the 'discover yourself' and the 'discover girls' years, but it wasn't the same.

The latest sign was that William didn't want to hang with him as much. Once William had gotten over the initial shock of losing Samantha, the boy had converted into a really clingy stage. Dr. Schuster had assured Oliver that it was normal and that William was looking for reassurance that he was safe.

Two years, later William was clearly assured and just as likely to blow off Oliver's attempts to spend time together.

Not now, Dad. I promised Jake we'd game together tonight or Actually, I was hoping I could go over to Caleb's house since it's Friday.

Or the dreaded Aww, Dad. That's baby stuff.

But never let it be said that Oliver didn't see the signs, which was why he noticed when William was slumped on the couch, looking sadder than he'd seen him in a long while.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Oliver asked plopping down next to William.

"Nothing," William mumbled picked at a loose string on the couch pillow he was holding.

"That is definitely not your 'nothing is wrong' face. If I remember correctly that is your 'something is definitely bothering me' face."

"It's stupid."

"I deal with stupid every day. And night. Lay it on me."

William sighed dramatically as only a pre-teen in a first-world country could. "I asked Alyssa Carmichael to the sixth-grade graduation dance. She said no."

Oh. Oliver thought for a moment. Shot down for the first time. Ouch. "Well, at the risk of sounding like every nana on earth, Alyssa Carmichael doesn't know what she's missing."

"Yes, that will make me feel better, father, when I am alone at the dance."

Oliver laughed. "The sarcasm is strong with this one."

William rolled his eyes and punched at the pillow.

"If you want, I can cancel the dance. If you can't have a good time, no one can. Hell, I can cancel the sixth-grade graduation. I'm the mayor. I can do that."

"Dad!" William whined.

"Or the Green Arrow can visit Alyssa Carmichael. I'm sure we can find a way to prove that she has failed this city."

"DAD!" William choked out on a laugh.

"What? Too far?"

"Just a little," he said, but his mouth was still tilted in a slight smile. He sighed. "I really wanted to go with her. She's so pretty. And smart. And nice."

Oliver nodded. "Those are the ones you have to watch out for. But you're twelve. There will be other girls. I promise. And one of them will think you're handsome and smart and nice. You just have to make sure you're paying attention so she's not sitting at home having this same talk with her dad."

"And hope her dad isn't secretly a super hero," William piped in.

"Well, even if he is, your dad can beat up her dad."