Author's Notes: I had no sooner finished posting The More Things Change when Moira started demanding her turn. And you know Moira. She doesn't take 'no' for an answer. She also explained how it was possible for Thea to still be Malcolm's daughter, even though he was in a coma at the time she was conceived. So, in this installment, Rebecca confronts Moira after her televised warning to the people of the Glades, and we get a little more information about the night Malcolm was shot. If things go the way I'm thinking, Laurel is up next. But they keep throwing me curve balls, so I won't swear to anything. This takes place around the same time Tommy is learning that his father is alive and now conscious in The More Things Change.
Disclaimer: Rebecca Merlyn and Moira Queen don't belong to me, nor does anything else involved with Arrow.
The Deadlier of the Species
It was done. She always thought when she made her move to counter Rebecca that she would feel something. Relief or … something. She wasn't expecting to feel nothing, to be numb. Maybe she should have. She and Rebecca had been friends for years, and she watched in horror as Rebecca changed. It began the night Malcolm was shot. Moira Queen closed her eyes, thinking of Rebecca's quiet husband, thinking of Rebecca still in the clothes stained by her husband's blood fighting desperately to save his life. She'd begged for help as she held Malcolm, screamed and begged for help from the same people she fought to save day after day, but no help came. And as her husband slowly began to succumb to blood loss, Rebecca began dragging his body back into the clinic, inch by desperate inch. Then, once they were inside, Rebecca called Moira and Robert, nearly hysterical.
So much had changed since that night. Rebecca, for one thing. Tommy changed as well, and not just in the normal child-to-adult way. Malcolm was in a coma from the blood loss at first. Later, it was medically induced, to give his body a chance to heal. And still later … Moira shook her head. Yes, Rebecca had changed. Gone was the woman who would stay just a little longer. Gone was the idealist. She closed the clinic shortly thereafter, telling her former patients that she simply couldn't bear to be there any more, that it hurt too much … that every time she saw the clinic, she saw not the good she did, but her husband lying in her arms. But it was just the first stage in punishing them for turning their backs on Rebecca and her husband when they needed them most, something for which she would never forgive them.
She presented the face of the grieving widow to the world, raising her son and carrying on with her husband's company. And she was a grieving widow, no one could doubt that. But there was a calculation in her eyes after the shooting that wasn't there before. She doted on her son, and on her husband's employees, now hers. In truth, that was the only time they saw the old Rebecca, when she took care of the Merlyn Global employees. As she always did when she wanted to cling to her friendship with Rebecca, Moira reminded herself of an incident from several years back. A young employee who lived in the Glades came to her about a year after the shooting, tears in her eyes, and swore that if she had been home, she would have gone to Malcolm and Rebecca's aid. She worked in the mail room, but Mr. Merlyn was always so kind to her. Rebecca found an apartment in a better part of town for her, and arranged for her schooling.
Where had that Rebecca gone, the Rebecca who took care of others? Was she buried deep within the calculating woman whom her friend became? Or was she gone completely? Moira didn't know. She didn't know, and she now counted her obligation to the memory of that friendship as fulfilled. Would Rebecca kill her for warning the Glades of the horror that was to come? Probably. As long as she left Thea and Oliver alone, she didn't care … although she was sure Rebecca wouldn't harm Thea. Oliver? Moira shook her head and took another sip of her wine. She was startled by the sound of applause.
"Oh, well done, old friend! I didn't think you had it in you to go against me, but well done indeed!" Rebecca laughed, emerging from the shadows. Moira froze. She'd been home a half hour. Rebecca had been waiting for her all this time? Moira tried to tell herself that if Rebecca planned to harm her, she'd now be dead … but that wasn't something she was willing to bet her life on. And then she noticed what Rebecca was wearing. Her heart felt like it was about to stop. Rebecca noticed her gaze and smiled slowly, saying, "Are you surprised? Yes … I'm the Dark Archer, as those idiots in the media have dubbed me. I'm also the one who kicked your son's ass six ways from Sunday when he told you that he'd been in the motorcycle accident. I'm still rather disappointed in Frank, although I'm glad I let his wife and daughter live. Sabotaging the Queen's Gambit that way was incredibly sloppy. I expected better from him."
"You were our friend, Rebecca! We took care of you after Malcolm was shot, I …" Moira began, and stopped. Rebecca raised her brows inquiringly, and Moira stopped. Closed her eyes. Swallowed hard. She took a deep breath and repeated, trying to stay calm, "You were our friend. We were your friends, and you had Robert killed because of your precious Undertaking!" The bland, pleasant mask Rebecca wore around her son and anyone else who didn't know the real Rebecca Merlyn slipped, and Moira saw the true face of her former friend, saw the hatred she kept carefully out of the public eye.
"You were my friends? Hardly. Tommy and Oliver have always been friends, certainly, and yes, you did me a favor by being a surrogate when I wasn't sure if Malcolm would survive, but you were never my friend. And Robert? Please. My husband wasn't even 'buried' and that bastard was trying to get into my pants. There were only two things I regretted about Robert's death … the fact that Oliver was caught in the crossfire and I didn't have the chance to kill him myself. And you? Just how stupid do you think I am to consider you my friend? How often did you come to see me while I was caring for Malcolm? Never. Malcolm's old friend Ginny has been more of a friend to me just in the two weeks she's been in Starling than you've been in twenty years. You're not my friend. You were never my friend, Moira. Although, I must thank you for alerting the public to the Undertaking," Rebecca answered coldly.
The change in subject threw Moira off-guard (as it was no doubt meant to), and she asked slowly, "You … you're glad that I warned people in the Glades?" Rebecca smirked (which made Moira's blood run cold) and she nodded slowly. However, Moira would deal with that in just a minute. She asked, "What about Thea … what about Oliver?" Moira decided that she really didn't like the way Rebecca's smirk turned into a smile. Was Rebecca right? Had she and Robert failed Rebecca in the days, weeks, and months after Malcolm was shot? No. No, she'd always been there for Rebecca. Always. And Rebecca misinterpreted Robert's actions. He wasn't faithful through much of their marriage, but he wouldn't have tried to seduce Rebecca.
"Thea? I wouldn't harm my daughter, and you know that. Then again, you took Robert back time and again after he cheated on you, so maybe you aren't smart enough to know that. The only reason I hurt Tommy was to protect him, from running into the Glades to stop it. Oliver? That's going to depend on him. But one way or another, after tonight, the Glades will be no more. And nothing you do, nothing your son does, will change that. I'm glad you warned the people in the Glades about the Undertaking, because instead of being in their homes, they'll be out on the streets … where it'll be even more dangerous. The body count will be even higher, all thanks to you, Moira," Rebecca answered, laughing a little.
Oh. Oh, God forgive me, Moira thought as she realized that Rebecca was a hundred percent right. People would be evacuating, it would be chaos … what had she done? Rebecca added cheerfully, "I actually counted on that, you know. Poor Moira. Your husband has left you, your son may be dead by the end of the night, and once I tell the truth, Thea will hate you." Thea. Oh God, Thea. Rebecca added mockingly, "What, you thought that I let you raise Thea out of the goodness of my heart? Please. It would have raised too many questions if I took her away from the two of you, and with Thea in your house, I could more easily control Robert."
"You … you've been planning this night all along," Moira croaked out, and Rebecca merely smiled pleasantly. Rebecca Merlyn, Malcolm's wife, had died the night he was shot. He was shot, but she was the one who actually died. Or was this who she had been all along, from the moment Malcolm met her? No. No, Moira couldn't accept that. There was a time when Rebecca was truly idealistic. Moira whispered, "What about Tommy … what about Laurel? She works in the Glades, you know that, Rebecca! She works in the Glades and Tommy loves her!"
"By now, Tommy knows that his father's alive, so he'll be safe. I've no doubt that Ginny heard our argument and came out to investigate. As for Ms. Lance, what do you care? She's been making eyes at your precious Oliver for years … she's certainly more interested in him than she is in Tommy. If she's smart enough to get out of the Glades … assuming she was smart enough to leave before the crowds choked the roads, fine. If not, I certainly won't shed any tears for her. I shed enough tears when my husband was bleeding in my arms!" Rebecca spat.
"I loved Malcolm, too, Rebecca," Moira whispered, "and so did Robert." She would have said more, but Rebecca slapped her across the face. It was deserved, she had to admit … yes, she and Robert had loved Malcolm Merlyn, but they weren't his wife. They didn't hold him as he bled, didn't drag his limp body to the clinic, trying to save his life. She looked at Rebecca when the other woman stepped back, asking, "Is this what he would want? For you to destroy an entire section of town?" As soon as the words were out, she regretted them.
Especially when Rebecca laughed aloud, answering, "A section of town? Oh, no, dear. More like half of the city, because what the earthquake doesn't destroy, the flood will. Oh, you hadn't put that together? Poor Moira, you're not nearly as smart as you thought you were. There isn't just one Markov device … there are five. Because you're right … I've been planning this for twenty years, even as Malcolm slipped into his coma. Oh, not the earthquake or even the earthquake machines, but even as he lost consciousness and his organs began to shut down, I realized that the Glades, and even Starling City itself, had to be cleansed."
Five. There were five of these devices. Oh, God help them all. Rebecca said, a wicked smile now curving her lips, "Maybe it's time you saw the final part of the Undertaking. It's not just the quakes and the flooding, although that's part of it, of course. Destroying the disease in this city, the way the disease ruined my family. Turn on the tv, Moira dear, there's a good girl." Ignoring for a moment the condescending tone in the other woman's voice, Moira picked up the remote and turned on the tv … to find Rebecca Merlyn's face on the screen, and a clearly-rattled anchor repeating the news of the hour. Rebecca had not only admitted that Moira was entirely correct, but she gleefully urged the residents to flee like the little rats they were. She stared in horror as Rebecca informed the general populace that they turned their backs on the Merlyn family, and now, that bill was coming due.
Moira started to protest, started to remind Rebecca that there were children living in the Glades, children who weren't even born when Malcolm was shot … but she'd made a mistake. She turned her back on Rebecca. The other woman's arm snaked around her throat, which was followed nearly immediately by a sharp pain in her lower back. Even with Rebecca's arm around her throat, she could still see an arrowhead protruding from her abdomen, and her former friend breathed, "Did you forget, dear? The female is always the deadlier of the species. Don't worry. I'll take good care of Thea. She was always more my daughter than she was yours." With those words, Rebecca let go, allowing Moira to crumple to the ground.
As Moira hit the ground, Rebecca casually yanked the arrow out of her body, and then walked away. She could hear Rebecca's footfall as the other woman walked away. Rebecca called over her shoulder, "It'll all be over soon, Moira … you're going to die here, alone. Just as I would have, if Malcolm hadn't come to pick me up that night. Thea won't come. Walter won't come. You're alone. And you're going to die that way." The door closed behind Rebecca Merlyn, leaving Moira to watch as her lifeblood dripped between her fingers onto the rug … alone.
