Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow or DC comics.

A/N: This is the second episode in my little series. Reading the first one is probably not necessary, though I'm trying not be too redundant for anyone who has read the first. Reviews are appreciated as they let me know how I'm doing.

Starring:

Colin Donnell, Stephen Amell, Katie Cassidy, David Ramsey, Willa Holland, and Audrey Marie Anderson

Guest Starring:

Teryl Rothery, Marc Singer, Chin Han, Roger Cross, Susanna Thompson, Jamey Sheridan, Caity Lotz, Marcus Rosner, Jessica De Gouw, Venus Terzo

Part One

If there was any place Thomas Merlyn liked less than a hospital, it was a law office. Though the dentist office came in at a close third. His aversion to hospitals was ironic considering his profession as a medical doctor, but it was the buildings he detested not the patients or the workers in them. Law offices, on the other hand, Tommy disliked them because of the people in them. To be fair, he knew there were good lawyers out there who were decent human beings; he just hadn't met one yet. But then all the lawyers he'd met so far knew his father in some form or fashion, except the one he was visiting today.

Unfortunately for Jean Loring, the reason Tommy was visiting her office had already colored his perception of her. Jean had been his mother's friend and the lawyer Rebecca Merlyn turned to when she needed legal help. Tommy had wondered why his mom never used any of the lawyers at Merlyn Global. He'd asked once, and Rebecca had told him she preferred to go to a friend rather than pester one of his dad's employees. It had been a flimsy excuse at the time, but now Tommy was grateful that Jean was the executor of his mom's will and not one of his father's slimy fellows. This meant he was waiting in Jean's modern office rather than the clinical halls of Merlyn Global. He still would've preferred to be elsewhere. He wished his mom was alive, then this wouldn't be necessary.

Tommy sat in Jean's lobby and stared out the window, not really seeing the busy Seattle streets below. Jean's personal secretary worked quietly in the corner while her boss finished up an early morning phone conference. In the hall, beyond the glass wall of Jean's private office space, the junior members of Loring, Steele, and Sharp bustled about their day. Tommy lost himself in a memory of a happier day with his mom, when she'd surprised him as a guest lecturer at med school. Better to remember the good days then let himself stew over the events and pain he saw in his sleep every night. He actually missed the days when his nightmares were caused from all that he'd seen and done as a doctor abroad on a humanitarian mission.

"Tommy, good to see you, despite the circumstances. I'm sorry for keeping you waiting," Jean returned to her office at a brisk pace. She smiled sadly at him and held out a hand. Tommy rose from his seat and shook her hand, thanking her for the condolences she offered next. Then Jean turned to look at the cold-faced suit who'd risen when Tommy had; "And what can I do for you, Mr.?"

"Matthew Shrieve, I'm here to represent Mr. Merlyn's interests, Malcolm Merlyn that is."

"I assume you have the paperwork?" Jean inquired and accepted the documents Mr. Shrieve expediently produced; "Well, everything looks in order. I assume this means Mr. Merlyn will not be joining us?"

"He sends his regrets," Shrieve replied and gave some excuse about being needed in the Florida branch. Tommy shoved his hands in his pockets and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Malcolm hadn't even visited Rebecca on her death bed, why would he bother to make the time to hear any last requests.

Jean led them to a private conference room and had her secretary retrieve Rebecca's will. Tommy took a seat to Jean's right, Mr. Shrieve to her left. When the secretary returned, she carried in a small box which had Tommy raising his eyebrows. "Your mother had a few personal items she asked me to keep and there will be a bit of paperwork for you," Jean explained when she caught Tommy's expression. Then Jean pulled out the will and read through it once. After that she sat with Tommy to explain certain aspects in detail.

Malcolm inherited majority of Rebecca's jewelry and material things to sell or give away. The only exceptions were her wedding band and engagement ring as well as her private house on a lake with all the contents, those went to Tommy. Rebecca also left Malcolm a letter and a locked box which rattled when Jean handed it over to Mr. Shrieve. All their joint accounts immediately transferred to Malcolm, but Rebecca stipulated that a portion of her shares in Merlyn Global be given solely to Tommy. She had several personal accounts and separate assets from Malcolm, which she bequeathed to Tommy's trust fund. The biggest surprise was learning Rebecca had bought out Malcolm from the NGO which ran and funded her clinics; she'd also given her seat on the board to Tommy.

"I've been the president of the NGO since its inception, so I can bring you up to speed on what's going on. If you would prefer to consider your options, I understand, and we can talk later. But your mom did want me to let you know there will always be a position open to you at any of her clinics, in whatever capacity you'd like."

Tommy thanked Jean for her consideration and asked for a week to think on the board position and job offer. He wasn't certain he wanted to stay in Seattle. He had no strong ties to the area with his mom gone and at least a dozen good reasons to leave, including his nightly terrors. The reading done, Mr. Shrieve left, but Jean had Tommy stay behind to go over some of the paperwork for the transfer of assets and his assumption of the house, which Rebecca had moved into a different trust not under Tommy's name. Jean had to explain that Rebecca had kept the house out of both their names for privacy.

"Here, there's something else your mom asked me to give you, not part of the will," Jean retrieved a small box from her pocket. Tommy opened it to find a key; narrow, gold, and antique-looking with engravings he couldn't make out.

"Do you know what it's for?"

"I'm sorry, I don't. She only asked that I give it to you after she died."

Tommy tucked the key in his coat pocket, hiding his disappointment. He'd been hoping his mom would've left him answers, not material things. He had so many questions. Like what it meant, that he was now a prophet; an ability he'd somehow inherited from her. And what had she known about the other worlds? Had she found a way to stop the visions? Tommy felt as if he'd been tossed into a twilight zone, where the world he thought he knew had suddenly tilted on its axis. His mom had known this would happen to him and he wanted to know why she hadn't prepared him or left him some instructions.

SR*SR*SR

As he left the office of Loring, Steele, and Sharp, Tommy found Oliver Queen waiting for him. Despite the clouds that threatened to downpour, Oliver wore a pair of dark sunglasses and a sleeveless gray tee. He cut his hair short now, a distinctive look from the dark blonde locks of his youth. Tommy checked to see if Oliver's Aston Martin was parked nearby, it wasn't.

"I thought I'd catch a ride from you," Oliver supplied, catching Tommy's search. Tommy waved him to the Tesla's passenger side. He wasn't certain he wanted to know what Oliver had been up to the night before. A couple of weeks ago, he would've assumed Oliver had spent the night at a hook-up's place. Now Tommy knew his friend might've been dealing with otherworldly creatures and he was afraid to ask if that was the case. Oliver didn't bother to volunteer any information and got into the car.

"Why do you wear those?" Tommy indicated the sunglasses. He'd asked Oliver before and had received a glib answer back then. Considering he now knew the truth about Oliver being an angel, he wanted to see if the reply would change. Oliver considered his answer for a moment. "Unlike demons, who can hide or reveal their possession to humans at will, angels have occasional flare ups of power. To regular humans, our eyes glow. The shades are a precaution."

"You didn't use to wear shades all the time, only since the accident four years ago," Tommy noted; "Did you have your own awakening then or did you like die and come back an angel?"

Oliver sighed. Tommy had been avoiding Oliver's attempts to educate him about otherworldly beings for the past few days. Figures this would be the topic he first expressed an interest in.

"I didn't die or awaken, though I was close to death when I became a host."

"A host, like voices in your head or you're a passenger in your body?" Tommy tensed at the idea that Oliver wasn't fully Oliver anymore.

"Neither. Ours is more a symbiotic relationship. The angel and I are one being now. We share all the memories of our previous experiences before we joined; everything he was and is, is a part of me now as I am a part of him. We think and feel as one."

"And how is that different from a demon?"

"Demons suppress and torment the humans they possess; the more powerful ones can even evict the human inside, permanently. They don't share, they just take," Oliver replied tersely, not appreciating the implication he was like a demon.

"Is that what happened to Dinah, the real Dinah?"

"Laurel," Oliver smiled bitterly; "The human Dinah's possessing prefers to go by Laurel. And according to Dinah, Laurel's still in there, just asleep."

"And you believe Dinah?"

"Dinah isn't like most demons, she's more complicated. Not inherently cruel."

"You almost sound like you care about her," Tommy gave Oliver a sidelong look.

"It's complicated," Oliver replied after a pregnant pause.

"Really?" Tommy snarked.

"I used to date Laurel, before all this," Oliver gestured to his head and shades; "We were serious, and then I got her baby sister killed."

"Wait, you mean the sister you invited on the plane. That girlfriend? The one your mom was convinced you were going to marry – wasn't she a brunette?"

"Yes."

Tommy whistled. That definitely was complicated. But knowing the truth about Oliver, that he shared his body with another entity, didn't help Tommy feel better. For if his best friend could lie to him about something so important for four years, what else was he keeping secret?

SR*SR*SR

Four Years Ago

Oliver Queen lounged outside his family's private hanger while his dad prepped their Pilatus PC-12 NG plane. His dark blonde hair was still long and carefully groomed into a side part. Oliver leaned against the hangar wall, chatting on his phone. He was giving directions to his soon-to-arrive guest. Then he spotted a familiar car heading his way, which did not belong to his intended companion. He momentarily panicked; "Sara, head back to the gas station you just passed. Your sister's here. I'll call you when she's gone."

Oliver ended the call and plastered a pleased-to-see-you smile on his face at his girlfriend's unexpected sendoff. Dinah Laurel Lance stepped out of her car and met her boyfriend halfway. He greeted her with a kiss, then inquired about her surprise visit. Laurel tucked back a lock of her brown hair and gave Oliver an impish grin.

"You're going to be gone three weeks, I thought I'd give you something to remember me by," Laurel handed him a wallet-sized photo of her.

"I promise I'll take good care of her," Oliver kissed the picture before tucking it into his shirt pocket. Laurel hummed, not all that concerned, and looped her arms around his shoulders: "When you get back, I'll give you your real present."

"A present? Do I get a hint?" Oliver leaned in to kiss her, but Laurel pressed a finger to his lips.

"You'll have to unwrap me to get it," she promised with a sultry tilt of her lips.

Oliver pulled her hand away from his mouth and hissed her ardently. Behind them the plane's engines roared to life.

SR*SR*SR

Dr. Schwartz thrummed with energy. She worked at a brusque pace and didn't waste time on unnecessary words. Her focus was on the medicine and treating as many patients as she could in the day, to the best of her ability. Efficient and exceptional care, Tommy recalled his mom's description of Dr. Schwartz. That certainly summed up the woman who'd taken over the day-to-day running of Rebecca Merlyn's first clinic. The place had expanded since the last time Tommy visited his mom there. Dr. Schwartz had already pointed out the four exams rooms which lined the main hall, directly off the waiting room. She'd also directed his attention to the classroom off the waiting room which had a separate entrance from the street; the clinic rented that room out to different exercise instructors and several anonymous groups when not using it for their own needs.

"Breakroom," Dr. Schwartz pushed open the door to reveal a kitchenette and small round table built for two. Then they took a couple steps down the hall, the doctor pointed to the next door on the same wall; "Pharmacy, only doctors are allowed keys. We don't keep any narcotics. Other doors are storage, then the cleaning and utility room." Those would be the doors on the other side of the hall.

The clinic was a small, practical place where people came to feel better. The rooms weren't impersonal, but intentionally bland, yet Tommy could see his mom's touches. Fresh flowers in every room. Pictures of sunny beaches or peaceful meadows on the walls. A drawer full of lollipops behind the nurses' desk, to be given to the good patients, young or old.

"This is our main office. We have three smaller clinics around town. You're welcome to work at any of them, if you're interested," Dr. Schwartz said as she led him to the final door. This one needed no introduction for Tommy.

"I haven't quite made up my mind, what I'm going to do next. But this place certainly feels like it will fit," Tommy told her with a small grin. The last door was covered with the artwork from a dozen young hands. The sight amused him more than it hurt, which he took as a good sign of progress. Dr. Schwartz barely glanced at the pictures, so used to them, and opened the door; "Your mom's office."

If the clinic held touches of Rebecca Merlyn, her office was a vibrant portrait. There was a coatrack in one corner covered with bright scarves, Halloween masks, a couple of wigs, and a blue cape. Bunny slippers poked out from under the desk for when she completed charts after all day on her feet. Photos of her beloved patients adorned one side wall. Medical textbooks and journals weighed down a small bookcase behind the door. Four filing cabinets lined the wall behind her desk, her neat script labeling each.

"I'll give you a few minutes," Dr. Schwartz squeezed his arm compassionately, then shut the door behind her.

Tommy nodded in thanks, unable to answer because of the burning lump in his throat. He missed her so much.

After a few minutes, he took a seat in her chair behind the desk. He soaked in the feeling of her lingering presence. Remembering all the good times he'd had in this room. Coloring next to the bookshelf when he was very little and playing videogames in the cape when he was older. He used to sulk in the spare chair as a teenager, listening to his mom hum while she wrote. They'd had many heartfelt chats over the phone when he was away at college; her in this very room, him in the quietest corner he could find. He imagined when they talked she'd looked at the pictures of them from his high school and college graduations which she displayed proudly on the desk next to her wedding photo. He smiled at the patterned folders on top of the desk, the patterns and colors a part of his mom's clever organizational method.

He was testing the different locks, though none matched the gilded key in his possession, when someone knocked on the door. Rap-rap-rap. Tommy jumped, uncomfortable memories from his time abroad rattling through his head. He focused on the photos with him mom in them to ground himself. "Just a minute," he called, tucking away the mysterious key.

He was still behind his mom's desk when an older man let himself in. Black hair, dark eyes, and an old but well-maintained suit, walking with a cane. Tommy didn't recognize the gentleman who was around Rebecca's age. The man didn't wear the scrubs of the nurses or the white coat of a doctor at the clinic. He blinked in surprise at the sight of Tommy, probably expecting Rebecca. Most likely a patient of his mom's, one who didn't know of her passing.

"It's true then, she's really gone," the man murmured, never taking his eyes off Tommy; "I heard the whispers but didn't believe them. Not our Rebecca."

"I'm sorry, but if you're here for medical attention, you need to wait in the lobby until one of the other doctors can help you."

"Pah, I don't need a doctor. I'm here for you boy. With your mother gone, you're our only hope."

"Uh, okay. If you wait here, I'll see about getting one of the nurses," Tommy edged his way towards the door. The other man had moved into the office, allowing a small window of escape if Tommy moved fast enough.

"I told you, I don't need a doctor," the man barked.

"Right, you said that. Why don't you take a seat there and we can talk about this, once I check on something, real quick," Tommy tried to placate the clearly delusional man. He hoped Dr. Schwartz would know what meds the man needed or that the clinic kept a supply of antipsychotics on hand.

"Listen to me, Tommy," the man grabbed his arm as he was inching through the doorway; "I know you're a prophet like she was. I know about the other worlds. I can help you, you have to listen to me."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Tommy snapped. This was a joke, this had to be a joke.

"I'm not –" a sudden cough racked the man and he released Tommy to cover his mouth.

Tommy bolted. He used the second exit at the back of the building and put as much distance between him and the man as he could.

SR*SR*SR

Tommy was not taking his new reality well. Thea could tell from the tense line of his shoulders. He thought he was being sneaky, trying to study her and Ollie when he believed no one was watching. Thea suspected he was at least half in denial at this point. She could sympathize with him, she really could, but he wasn't her responsibility. That delightful duty fell to Ollie, a fact she reminded him of when she caught his eye and discreetly nodded in Tommy's direction. Ollie shrugged, the problem a work-in-progress. Then Ollie winked, he was keeping a close eye on the freshly awakened prophet. Good.

First chance Thea had, she was going to hit the books. Her friends from high school would've laughed if she'd told them that. The Thea Queen they knew never studied. Of course, most people, including her mom, thought they knew her now and even they didn't see the full truth. Occasionally, she actually studied for the classes she was taking at college. Most of the books she read dealt in the other worlds and how to hunt the various nasties that crept into this one. When she had the time between balancing two separate lives, she was going to research what previous hunters had learned about prophets and concurret orbi.

"You mentioned plans with some friends tonight," Moira indirectly asked. Thea nodded and quickly swallowed; "Yep, me and a few classmates, we're having a small study session, then we're thinking of hitting a couple bars. Probably won't be back until after midnight."

Yep, it would be her and her good friends, Crossbow and Stake, tonight. They were going to track down a new nest of neferi and dust the blood-suckers. Questioning their queen to figure out the sudden interest of shadow-worlders in Seattle would likely take well past midnight, but the job had to be done.

At least Tommy knew better than to bring up the other worlds around Moira. Thea and Ollie had explained early on that their mother knew nothing of the otherworldly side to her children, and for her own protection it was going to stay that way. Eventually, Tommy would get over his denial and enter the thousand-and-one question stage, but he'd know the importance of staying mum around Mom.

"Oh, well, I hope you and your friends have a good time," Moira said with half a smile. This time Ollie shot Thea a look.

"You know, I'm free tomorrow night. Would you like to do something together then?" Thea offered.

"Are you sure dear?" Thea nodded; "Then that would be lovely," now a real smile graced her mom's face. They discussed a few activities they might do, but ultimately decided to be spontaneous. The loss of their dad still cut their mom deeply; the only times she really seemed happy were when she was spending time with one of her kids. Ollie and Thea had agreed to care for her as she healed at her own pace, and they'd rope Tommy into helping once he got his bearings.

"Tommy, how was your day? Tommy," Moira turned to her surrogate son next; "Tommy?"

"What? Oh, I'm sorry Moira, what did you say?" Tommy snapped out of his fugue state and Moira repeated her question; "Okay I guess. The reading went faster than I thought, but I think the clinic visit took more out of me than expected."

Yeah, Thea was willing to bet there was more to that story, but again, not her problem. Her meal finished, Thea made her excuses and left the dining room. She had a night of hunting to do. Ollie signaled to her as she passed him: Be careful. She smiled wickedly in return: Never.

SR*SR*SR

The older gentleman with the cane, whose name was Frank Chen, dozed on the bed in his motel room. The day had not gone as he'd hoped. He would have to try again tomorrow with young Merlyn. He would have to keep trying until the boy listened. Sudden whispers in Frank's ears had him bolting upright. He swung his aching leg off the bed, used his cane as a crutch, and yanked a small chest out from under the bed.

Setting the chest in the chair, he peeked out the window. Nothing suspicious in sight. The whispers warned him this would not be the case much longer. He had to move now. Chest under one arm, cane supporting him in the other hand, he left his room behind. The muscles in his bad leg threatened to cramp as he thumped down the cement stairs to his car. He pushed himself faster, knowing the urgency.

He placed the chest into the passenger seat and turned on his car. The lights flickered on in the early, pre-dawn morning. Frank drove away. Twenty minutes later he returned, clomping back up the stairs, despite the whispers cautioning against it. He had to. He'd left the spare keys in the room. Had to get them. He had his cane, but no chest. He hurried to his room and set the lock and chain for good measure. The whispers ceased.

A gun cocked behind him. Frank Chen turned around; "So, it's you then. They warned me you were coming, but they've never been very good with names."

A clap of thunder filled the room.