Author's Notes: This is something that has been edging at my mind for the better part of a year. What if it was Malcolm who was shot that night in the Glades, rather than Rebecca? Most people would say things would have been magically better, but what if it was worse? What if Rebecca's grief and fury proved even more devastating than Malcolm's? I'm still not sure where this will take me, but I wanted it out of my head so I could focus on other stories. Fair warning, Oliver is only mentioned in this and fan favorite Felicity is nowhere to be found. This is about the Merlyn family, and only about the Merlyn family. Depending on how things go, I may include what happened to Moira, what Rebecca's reaction to her telecast was, and how Tommy saves Laurel in this scenario in a later story. I hope you enjoy reading it, regardless.

Disclaimer: The Merlyn family, Starling City, Laurel Lance and all things Arrow do not belong to me. Virginia Weston is the only thing that belongs to me. Don't mind if you borrow her, just ask first and return her to me intact.

The More Things Change

Starling City

Evening of the Undertaking

He groaned as consciousness began to return to him … ugh, hangover. He started to roll over, only for him to realize he wasn't in a bed. He was, in fact, on the floor. That by itself wasn't a problem. After all, there were numerous times when he woke up on the floor after getting absolutely and completely shit-faced … the rush of memories, on the other hand, was. Tommy Merlyn rested his aching head on his forearms, trying to think past his splitting headache, given to him by his mother. His mother. His loving, gentle, patient mother … the woman who had kept his world from splintering into a hundred thousand pieces after the loss of his father … intended to wipe out the Glades. The Glades, where his father was shot and bled to death in the arms of the wife he'd been protecting.

All this time, as she cared for Tommy and ran the company his father left behind, his mother had been planning to wipe out the section of town where her husband died. How had he not noticed the hatred? He should have seen it, shouldn't he? Shouldn't he have noticed his mother's descent into madness, living in the same house, eating dinner with her every night? Had she been planning this since they lost Dad? Tommy groaned and buried his face in his hands. The revelation of his mother's plans, courtesy of Ollie, had brought back the pain of his father's death. And knowing that his daddy died a hero didn't make that grief any better. It didn't make his father any less dead, didn't make the lonely twenty years since any better. He had adored his father, and his mom always said that his father adored him right back.

And maybe that was the worst part of this. There was a part of Tommy which not only understood his mother's hatred, but agreed with it. His mother had spent his childhood taking care of the people in the Glades, and his father's money made it possible … and then, when his parents needed them most, they were ignored. Oh, Moira Queen told him not to be so hard on the residents within the Glades, but Tommy wondered what made his father's life less valuable. He had never forgiven people in the Glades for their indifference or their fear, and now he knew that his mother hadn't either. And he had no idea what to do next. He … Laurel? Did she know about the earthquake to come? Was she safe? How would he get to the Glades with his head still hurting like this?

That choice was taken out of his hands, when a somewhat familiar voice exclaimed, "Tommy? I thought I heard voices out here!" Tommy raised his aching head to look at a slight, dark-haired woman who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Then again, after the attempt on his mother's life, he learned that a lot of things weren't as they seemed to be in Merlyn Global … including his mother. Who would have ever expected his gentle, soft-spoken mom to be a complete and total badass? And apparently, he wasn't responding to what was being said to him, because the woman left the hidden door and crouched in front of him, saying, "Are you okay? Let me have a look."

Let me have a look. The words, the voice, sounded familiar, and he murmured, "Ginny?" A pleased smile lit up her face, and Tommy nodded, flinching at the pain in his skull, "Ginny Weston. You grew up with my dad … the daughter of the maid?" Now, he remembered … Virginia Weston was at his dad's funeral. He remembered her because she wept quietly across from Tommy and his mother as his father's casket was lowered into the ground. Tommy closed his eyes as Ginny checked over his head, clucking quietly in a way he remembered from his dad's funeral. She was the only adult, aside from Moira Queen and Rebecca Merlyn, who spent any time at all with Tommy and Oliver. Tommy finally had the presence of mind, as Ginny helped him to his feet, to ask, "What are you doing here?" His dad's funeral was the last time he had seen Ginny, and his mom later admitted that their family friend had been in love with his dad ever since she was a teenager. It hurt too much for her to stay in Starling City.

"Your mom asked me to come over while she ran some errands. Probably getting some food," was the rather odd answer as Ginny carefully steered him into what had been (another) hidden room. Tommy blinked, unsure if his mind was still rebooting. Food? Why would his mother be getting food? Well, she wasn't … she was in the process of destroying the Glades, but why would Ginny think that she was getting food? And why would his mother ask Ginny to stay here? And then, things got really weird as Ginny warned, "No. You stay in bed. I need to look over Tommy with better lighting."

"Tommy?" His name wasn't said … more like choked out. And that voice, he knew. He'd heard it in his dreams and his nightmares for the last twenty years. Turning his head slowly, because this couldn't be happening, the young man forced himself to look at the owner of the voice. And for the second time that night, Tommy Merlyn's life was upended, because lying in a bed, face incredibly pale and looking incredibly tired, was his father. His father, who had been dead for twenty years, but was very much alive … and who was staring at Tommy as if he was the ghost. In a trembling voice, the man in the bed said, "Ginny, how long was I unconscious? I knew some time must have elapsed, because Rebecca has aged, and so have you. But my little boy … Tommy's only eight!"

Ginny was silent for several moments, using the distraction of getting Tommy settled in a chair, and the man in the bed said, sounding almost desperate, "Virginia. Please. Talk to me. Rebecca has left for a mysterious errand, and we both heard the raised voices. I'm seeing a young man where I remember a little boy being. What is happening? I remember being shot, I've remembered hearing Rebecca screaming for help as I passed out. Please. Tell me what's happened, tell me what I've missed."

"Twenty years," Tommy answered hoarsely as Ginny concluded her quick examination. Tommy didn't allow himself to look away as the man … as his father's head snapped toward him. For the first time in too long, Tommy Merlyn looked into his father's eyes as he repeated, "It's been twenty years. My dad has been dead for twenty years. But you weren't dead. You were alive. All this time, you've been alive." With those words, the shock and horror of what his mother planned to do gave way to fury. Fury that she still planned to destroy the Glades, even though his father survived that gunshot wound … but even stronger than that was fury that she kept his father from him. All these years, and she … kept … his … father … from … him! She lied to him, let him think that his father was dead!

"He's been a coma, Tommy … your mom didn't want to get your hopes up if he did die. Your dad just woke up last night," Ginny said softly. Tommy didn't want to hear it. And Ginny added a bit reluctantly, "He woke up when he heard your voice." Tommy's head snapped toward her, and Ginny repeated, "Malcolm has been … stirring … for the last week or so, but he actually opened his eyes while I was playing home movies. He woke up when he heard your voice. Tommy. Resent your mom if you want … but right now, you're here. You're with your father."

The Merlyn heir turned back toward his father, who was staring at him with all the love and grief that Tommy himself felt for the years they lost. His dad breathed once more, "Tommy." He said it like a prayer, holding out his hand, and that was all the impetus which young man needed. He lurched out of the chair and into his father's arms, burying his face in the crook of his neck, as he did so many times as a little boy and his father carried him to bed. For the first time since that awful night twenty years earlier, Tommy Merlyn felt safe. There was still a great deal to do … there was the matter of what his mother planned to do to the Glades, and whether he should try to help Oliver stop her. There was the question of Laurel. For now, though, the only thing that mattered was his father's embrace.