Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow, or any of the characters within this fanfiction.
PLEASE NOTE THAT EVEN THOUGH THIS TAKES PLACE IN SEASON 1 EPISODE 1 IT HAS HEAVY SPOILERS TO SEASON 3. BEWARE OF SPOILERS!
Also be aware that I do not post chapters regularly. I tend to only write when I'm inspired because otherwise my stuff ends up being crap, and I'd really only like to give you guys quality work. Please feel free to message me on the progress of any of the chapters or if you have any comments of any of my stories. I appreciate your time and patience! Thank you!
Oliver Queen stood in the shower enjoying the warm water that cascaded over him. It had been so long since he was able to enjoy the simple comforts of his home. He stared blankly at the foggy glass door that separated his scarred body from the cool bathroom. He raised a calloused hand and drew a face in the glass. He smirked at the face, mostly out of his spontaneous action rather than the face itself. The face reflected his blank expression, staring soullessly through him. It disturbed Oliver slightly so he turned up the heat, letting the water scorch his skin. He watched the face slowly disappear into the steam.
A light rapping at the door made him jump, pulling him from his stupor. Raisa's sweet voice seeped through the wooden door frame bringing him back memories of fondness and homeliness. "Mr. Oliver, I brought you some clean clothes. I'm going to put them here outside the door. Food will be ready soon if you care to join your mother in the dining room."
Oliver was silent for only a moment, taking that second to compose himself. "Thank you Raisa, but I think I'll have dinner up here if you don't mind."
"Of course, . I'll bring it up as soon as it's ready" she replied softly. A sigh escaped Oliver's lips when he heard her footsteps take her out of his room.
Leaning his head against the shower door he breathed out another sigh, steeling himself. Now that he was back home it seemed as though everything he did, every minute task that he had to perform was a challenge. He hadn't expected this, those five years he spent both on and off the island couldn't have prepared him for his return.
He stepped from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist. He caught a glimpse of himself in his full body mirror. He walked back to it, standing perfectly still examining himself. His features were not as he remembered them. He no longer had the soft features of a boy, his smooth skin had been replaced with tanned hide. His eyes were deep and serious, reflecting emotions and a past that could never be revealed or even guessed at. The scars that blanketed his body were a fierce reminder of that.
Oliver grabbed the clothes that Raisa had left him and quickly dressed, recoiling at the scent of the overwhelming scent of detergent. It had never bothered him before, but years of little to no bathing could cause one's sense of smell to alter drastically. Even so, the scent was comforting and familiar.
He sat down at one of his computers and stared at the screen. He didn't have anything that needed to be done, and in a way it was relaxing to just do nothing and stare into space. However he was careful not to let his mind drift and wander too far from his grasp. He was in no mood to reminisce.
Not to long after a knock came at his door and food was delivered to him by the means of Raisa. He said some kind words to her and ate whatever it was that she had brought him. The food tasted bland in his mouth and it was a challenge to just eat at all. But his instincts made the action mechanical.
Another knock came at his door. Setting down his plate, Oliver went to answer. When the door opened he was immediately bombarded with sound as his friend Tommy forced his way past Oliver and into the room.
"I have a whole itinerary planned for us today. We have at least five clubs to hit that you haven't even heard of. There's also a new restaurant I want to come try, Thea's not much for it, but I think you'll like it." Oliver looked at Tommy fondly as his friend excitedly explained his plan. "So where should we start?"
Without even blinking Oliver replied, "I want to go see Laurel."
Tommy looked at his friend in something resembling disbelief, "Are you sure about that man? I mean, you and Laurel aren't exactly... well, anything. Are you sure that's a good idea?"
Oliver only nodded his head, his face set with determination.
"Well, alright then." Tommy resigned, " Your funeral, and there's no way you're coming back from the dead this time."
Oliver breathed deeply when Tommy's car pulled up along the curb outside of a small brick building in the Glades. Tommy had explained on the way over that Laurel had become a lawyer like she always said she would, and now she was helping others who couldn't afford someone to represent them in the court system. Oliver was proud of her; happy for her. She had moved on with her life, but now he was about to bring it all crashing back down around her. If he could avoid this confrontation he would, but he needed to apologize. If not for her sake then for his. He swore he would never tell the truth about Sara, wanting Laurel to remember her sister as she was.
He stepped out of the car and headed into the building, finding his way into the office where attorneys and secretaries scurried about in a noisy confusion of paper and phones. He stood in the doorway, examining the faces till he found the one he was looking for. She was just beautiful as he remembered; as beautiful as the picture she had given him before he left on the boat. But he did not lover her, could not love her. Not after what he had done to her, after what he had been through. It wouldn't be right.
She spotted him at the prompting of who assumed was her friend. Her face went from surprise and confusion to a mask of hate and loathing in a matter of seconds. She stormed towards him in a fury. "What are you doing here?" She demanded, her voice shaking.
He looked at her for a moment, his eyes conveying the guilt he felt, "I came to apologize."
"I don't want your apologies Oliver. I want my sister, but she's dead because of you." Laurel was visibly shaking, but she wasn't sad. She was angry and vengeful. A vein in her forehead became prominent in her rage, just like her father.
"I know," He said calmly, understanding what she was feeling. He forgave her for her anger, even welcomed it. It would keep her safe. "All the same, I came to apologize."
Both were silent, looking at each other with such a range of emotion that everyone in the office had come to a standstill. Nothing seemed to move or happen when Oliver spoke. "I'm sorry, Laurel." He wanted to hug her, somehow make her see how genuine his guilt was. But he didn't dare make a move. Instead he looked at her with such sincerity that her conviction was shaken for a moment. She looked away from him, not daring to make eye contact should she lose her anger altogether.
Oliver took this as his sign to leave, turning away without saying goodbye, and headed for the door. Just as he was leaving the building a hand grabbed his coat.
"Wait," Laurel panted, "I...I'm not done talking with you yet." She seemed uncertain. Maybe even upset with herself that she had even followed him at all.
He just nodded at her and the two began to walk down the street in an awkward silence.
"So you became a lawyer." Oliver commented lightly.
"Always said I would."
"It's good work you're doing."
"Yeah."
The walked again in silence, passing some bystanders on the sidewalk. Oliver stopped Laurel, turning her to face him.
"Laurel, I really am sorry."
She sighed and turned away from him, kicking at a stone, "You already said that."
"I know."
"Oliver, this doesn't change anything, Sara's not coming back. She got on that stupid boat with you and now she's dead. And I can't be mad at her because she fell under your charm just like I did. I can't believe I ever thought I saw something in you." Laurel's body was rigid as she kindled her anger. Without warning she whipped around and faced him again. "You should have died on that island."
The bitterness in her voice cut through Oliver, hurting him more that he had expected. Even so he just looked at her with understanding and sadness. "I know. I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that! Just... Ugh!" Laurel pushed past Oliver and headed back to her office, leaving him standing there. He didn't move from where he stood until he heard a horn honk from across the road. Tommy waved at him from the drivers side in the car, beckoning him over. When Oliver hopped in Tommy examined him briefly.
"Well..." He paused. "That went just about as well as expected. At least she didn't actually plan on killing you. Yet." He added with a smirk.
Oliver sat silently in the passenger seat while Tommy rattled away at him. He would nod or make some vague comment to at least attempt at feigning interest. They were headed farther into the Glades where Oliver's father's old factory was located. He had expressed earlier an interest in turning into a nightclub, but keeping his true intentions for it a secret. His family had hesitantly gotten on board with the idea, but Tommy had supported him enthusiastically, immediately offering his own experience with business. Oliver was grateful to Tommy, for both his support and his friendship. Even though he felt that he had to hide so much from him, he could always depend on Tommy to be his friend.
The two went inside the deteriorated building, eyeing it up for a minute. Tommy had made a comment somewhere of the lines of "This is going to take some work, buddy." Oliver didn't want to stay long, he had no reason to, and Tommy was itching to show him around town. However, it would seem that someone else had something entirely different planned for their evening.
As Tommy and Oliver reached the car, Tommy babbling away, a black van pulled up at the end of the alley way in which they were parked. Oliver's senses were immediately set off, warning him of the danger. He saw Tommy go down first, a dart stuck in his neck, not a second later he was hit with one as well. The tranquilizer worked quickly, but Oliver fought it as best he could, leaning on the car for support. Before the drugs overwhelmed him he saw a man walk out of the back door of a building, trash in his hand and a white apron around his waist. He saw what was happening and shouted at the men who had exited the van. They immediately shot him down without hesitation. Oliver swore silent revenge for the man, then blacked out.