A/N: This is what I may envision for next seasons' opener… the tying up of loose ends and the start of some new malice in the city. I know it should be Oliver and Laurel… but I'm too much of a Olicity SHIPPER… so things may get a bit "weird". 8belles
Phoenix
Oliver stiffly sat behind his mother on the hard wood bench in his immaculate black Armani suit. His tie was green and his cufflinks were small emeralds. Exhaustion and deep circles lined his eyes, which were sunken in his face from lack of sleep.
Moira Queen also was seated and wearing black; her back to her son, lawyer to her left. Queen had not seen his mother in several days, since the earthquake. She had been incarcerated the entire time judged as a flight risk and denied bail. People had picketed Queen Consolidated and smashed windows in retaliation for what she admitted after the earthquake. Finding nothing to loot, they tried to burn the office building down, to no success except for causing smoke damage. Oliver spent those days with Diggle securing the building and assisting the Starling City Police in a giant data dump for any incriminating evidence against his mother. Felicity had done her job well and presented them with three 128 GB flash drives. She also was recruited by the police to do some electronic forensic work on the Merlyn computers too, which she gladly accepted.
Oliver was not shy about admitting he didn't like what his mother and father had perpetrated upon the city. He fully cooperated although the media was calling for his head on a pike as well. Thea, who had found Roy two days after the earthquake, now was not allowed out of the family home because of death threats. Roy had become their guest. Permanently.
The judge settled himself and his robes behind the bench. From the back, Oliver could see that Moira was as exhausted as he felt. Her hair, while coifed perfectly, was above sagging shoulders that seemed to be bearing the weight of the world. It felt just as crushing to watch her sitting there. Walter was farther back in the gallery and Oliver paid him no attention. Queen had learned that he had a subpoena to testify against his soon to be ex-wife. Oliver had one as well. That made things tense, to say the least.
Why am I here? He thought quietly to himself as the judge shuffled papers on his bench. He knew why: no matter what she's done, she was his mother and right now, she really could use friend. Queen was completely amazed his mother called that press conference and confessed to so many heinous crimes. His expectation for that night was to go out and die as he saved the city from Malcolm Merlyn, not have to appear in court as his mother was having the charges read to her.
Judge Collins had a monotonous tone as he read the charges, " Moira Queen, how do you plead to the following charges: Murder, Conspiracy to commit murder, acts of terrorism, perjury…" the list went on and on it seemed to Oliver and every word seemed to hit his mother like a hammer, pushing her down farther and farther. Finally, he stopped after what seemed to be eternity, and sagely peered over the sheaf of papers at the defendant from behind his reading glasses.
"Your Honor, my client pleads not guilty." The lawyer rose and announced, "And your Honor, we'd like to petition the court to please set bail. Mrs. Queen is not a flight risk and she has not been to her home and family in several days. She is an older woman." Oliver frowned reflexively at that comment. His mother never referred to herself as 'older', but he knew what he was implying.
" Objection!" the prosecution announced and rose. The woman was a tall brunette, much like Laurel, but with a hungry look in her eye like she was out for blood, " This woman –"
" Mrs. Queen." The defense spoke up, giving a disapproving look towards the young woman.
" Pardon." The prosecutor threw him a cursory glance, " Mrs. Queen has access to numerous types of transport and could leave the country in a heartbeat. The State moves that no bail is set and she remains incarcerated pending her trial date."
Collins looked at both of them each and then at Moira. He saw Oliver right behind her, looking straight ahead like a rod had been pressed down his spine. Even from the bench, he could see how shattered Moira appeared and torn her son was. " I will let Mrs. Queen go home." The prosecutor sputtered with indignation, " on the condition that—", he waved a warning at the prosecution, " she wear a tracking device and does not leave her home."
" Your Honor, they have a personal friend who is one of the top hackers in the country! A home incarceration bracelet is child's play!" the brunette countered pressing her fingers hard into the table before her. Oliver expected scratch marks to appear.
Oliver's eyebrow twitched upward in curiosity. Felicity is now described as a 'personal friend'. Interesting, he thought, wait till she hears that one.
"And I hold Oliver Queen, "Judge Collins leveled a heavy look at the young man. Moira barely turned to acknowledge his presence, " to be in charge of her that she does not stray from this order."
The defense turned, hooking an elbow on the back of his chair, " You can say ' yes sir!'"
Oliver stood, " May I address the court?"
Judge Collins gave a surprised look, leaning back in his chair, " Yes. Proceed."
Oliver looked around the room and saw many faces he knew and then a surprise: Felicity was sitting two rows behind him. A small shiver went down his spine. Clearing his throat he began, " My family has done a great injustice to this city. Too much has happened while I was gone and even before I was absent." He paused and everyone appeared to hang on his words, " But justice is what this city deserves and it what it will get. No amount of money can protect you from true justice." He paused again and saw some folks were tearing up or had angry expressions, "And so, your Honor, I will make sure my mother is responsible for her part." Quietly, he sat down. The room remained as still as a taught wire just waiting to break.
" Alright then. Bail is set at 20 million dollars, fifty percent down for release. Trial date is set for the first of next month. Court is adjourned." And with a rap of the gavel, Judge Collins dismissed the biggest case to be tried in Starling City since anyone could remember.
The room erupted in noise. Some were jeers, some requests for interviews, others just hanging on for a slice of fame. Flashes of light broke out like a lightening storm all around them. People yelled for attention. For a brief moment, Moira got up and turned to her son with weary gratitude. He was devastated with how haggard she looked and longed to hold her, to say everything would be fine, but he couldn't. Putting on his best poker face, he reached out and simply touched her shoulder, " I meant what I said."
A small flicker of life seemed to go out of her eyes and it was if Merlyn's arrow had pierced his chest again, " I understand." Her voice was a shadow.
John Diggle and his associates pushed the media circus back so Moira, Oliver and their lawyer could exit the courtroom. Felicity caught Oliver's eye and said pantomimed, 'Call me.' He barely nodded as he left the catastrophe that threatened to engulf him. Oliver met eyes with Walter as he passed but the man was stone faced.
Oliver escorted his mother to the sheriff's office below the courtrooms for her ankle bracelet. She said nothing while they installed the slim, black band with the CPU/GPS unit around her ankle above her Jimmy Choo shoes and gave it a test. " Now, don't be like that lady on the news just the other day who Bedazzeld her bracelet. Keep it charged and we'll all be good." the woman officer joked awkwardly, more out discomfort being so near Moira Queen, the pariah of the city. Oliver smiled his fake smile at her. Moira seemed to be a fraction of herself. John escorted the Queens and their council out to the car and then whisked them home.
The silence in the car was deafening.
Thea embraced her mother and seemed to give her some pep. She introduced Roy to her and he was as uncomfortable as a kid meeting some idol for the first time. Moira excused herself to her bedroom and Oliver watched her ascend the stairs noting how she clung to the railing for support. Thea looked at her brother, " She going to be ok?"
" Only she can answer that. " Oliver replied and repressed the need to unleash his sudden feeling of anger, "I need to get to the wake."
" Oh. Yeah. I… forgot." Thea said carefully, not looking at Oliver in the eye, "I'll keep an eye on Mom. Make her some tea. Stuff like that."
" And you, Roy?" Oliver asked giving him an unvarnished, terrifying look.
" I'm going to become Martha fricken Stewart around here. No problems from me. A saint I am." He replied showing both hands, palm up to Queen.
Oliver barely registered that reply as he turned for the door with John. " I'll be out late. Don't wait up for me."
" Never do." Thea threw back and then regretted it immediately. Oliver appeared not to hear.
In the aftermath of the earthquake, after Laurel found out Tommy had died, she set about arranging his funeral. Since there were no close relatives left in the Merlyn family, Laurel felt this was the closest thing to closure she would ever get. After all, how do you say thanks for saving my life to someone who said they loved you just before they died?
Laurel didn't mean to schedule the visitation on the same day as Moira's arraignment, but it just happened that way. She knew Oliver was going to be there in the morning and then come to see Tommy one last time. In the end, she wasn't sure what to expect from either of them.
The estate lawyer knew Laurel and gave her sufficient funds that had not been seized by the city to allow her to give Tommy the respect he so rightly deserved. The funeral home was away from downtown, an older area with large trees and shaded streets that were quiet and stately. She made sure the hearse was polished till it gleamed and the limousines were immaculate.
Tommy's mother was fond of roses in all their colors and so she bought out every last stem from the florists that still had inventory. Once those were exhausted, she had flowers brought in from surrounding towns. The funeral home looked like spring and smelled like heaven.
Laurel felt that Tommy should have a white casket, not a dark one. He was not like his father and full of evil, but rather light and humor. The enamel of the casket was so clean, you could use it for a mirror and the metal work was plated in chrome. White silk satin was tufted inside by hand with a subtle lace trim and a picture of her, Oliver and Tommy, from their childhood, stitched inside for remembrance.
The doorway to the parlor was nice place to lean on as she surveyed her last goodbye for Tommy. He lay in state, calm and serene as if he was napping on her couch while watching football. She knew how he died, but pushed that vision out of her mind. The EMT's had been discrete about it when they brought out his body, but she had found out from her dad.
Chairs with padded seats lined neatly on either side making a center aisle for those who wished to pay their respects. The low volume of Miles Davis and Wynton Marsalis, two of Tommy's favorite jazz musicians, played. The roses lit up the room with color and vibrance and life. Tommy was not brooding and sad; he always had a joke, something funny to say when you were down or just for the hell of it. Laurel remembered a time when they were very young and he made funny faces at her till she laughed after falling off her tricycle. Or the time that she and Oliver were arguing in middle school and Tommy came out dressed like Harry Potter and put a Shut Up Spell over both of them. He had used his father's sharpie to draw the lightening scar and it stayed on his forehead for a week. A faint smile perked up her lips as she drew in a long breath and hugged her torso with her arms.
"Hey there darling." Her dad said as he approached and embraced her. She clung to him longer than she thought she should. After all, she planned all this and was ok with letting go, right? To her it felt more like she would never be able to say good-bye because they had been together so long through their childhood till now.
" Hi." She replied shakily.
" Everything looks beautiful." Lance returned giving his daughter the most sympathetic look he could muster.
" Thanks. Visitation should be soon. I need to check on a few last things." She said patting his arm.
"Laurel." Lance said looking at her but not finding the words, he looked at her awkwardly. Since that phone call in the subway when he thought he'd never see his daughter alive again, things had been a bit strained.
" I know Dad. I know." She replied and moved on to find the funeral director. Lance stuck his hands in his pockets and gazed into the parlor.
John pulled into the semicircular driveway of the funeral home. Oliver let himself out from the back seat and Dig moved the car to a parking space. Together, they entered the building and saw other friends gathered in the foyer. Their voices were quiet, subdued and heavy with grief. Oliver said hello to classmates that he had not seen in years. John shook hands with them as Queen introduced them and made small talk around.
Eventually, Oliver decided to approach the parlor and Dig hung back. Suddenly, John caught a blonde flash of a ponytail out of the corner of his eye. " Felicity!" Dig said with direction without being loud. She wove her way through the assembled mourners and joined him.
"How is he?" she asked quietly, looking up at John's dark brown eyes.
" Hard to tell." Dig admitted scanning the room, " You know how good he is at hiding things."
" Is Laurel here?" Felicity replied somberly.
" I've not seen her, but I know she's here. She arranged this for Tommy." Diggle admitted while taking in the flowers. Both he and Felicity knew how Tommy died and how that affected Laurel and Oliver. Both were probably hanging on by a thread of sanity.
" I'm at a loss for words and you know that's rare for me." She commented but her tone was not funny. Her blue eyes were pools of suffering threatening to tears.
" I know. I am too." John said and put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a supportive squeeze.
The parlor was fairly empty as if the living were afraid of facing death and preferred to pool in the foyer where the light and life were stronger. Oliver put a hand on the back of the last chair on the left side and gazed up the aisle at the casket, which was half open. From where he stood, he could see Tommy's profile in repose. " Tommy! Open your eyes!" his voice rang in his head like a bell. The Island loomed over his shoulder like Death itself. Slade, Shado and even Yao Fei danced his brain like wraiths and ripped out his heart and started dancing on it. Sarah's specter appeared next in the less-than-clothed way they parted. Her mouth was frozen in the " OLIVER!" she had been screaming the night she was washed away. She faded to the ghost of his father with the gun against his head right before he pulled the trigger.
Pinching his fingers to the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes as a sudden piercing headache knifed through his skull too full of apparitions. Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he jumped away pushing the chair out of line. His eyes rested on Laurel standing next to him, who looked as surprised as he was to see her.
" Oliver. How are you?" she asked neutrally, her green eyes swimming under long lashes.
Oliver looked at her, then to the casket and back at her. Swallowing, he went to speak and his voice failed him. Laurel pulled him into a hug and he awkwardly put his hands around her, smoothed her hair and put a small kiss on the top of her head. He found his voice after a moment, " I'm tired."
" How was this morning?" she asked about the arraignment.
" I'm sure you'll see in the evening news. " his eyes were dark in a flicker of anger. His jaw flexed, involuntarily.
" Is your mother alright?" Laurel asked politely.
" She'll survive." He replied quickly because he didn't want to talk about it. He wasn't sure he wanted to be talking to Laurel right now either. She didn't know he spent Tommy's last moments on Earth with him and that she was almost the last thing on his mind before dying.
" Will you?" Laurel said out loud but it was clear she didn't mean to. Oliver gave her a look from behind his public mask. " I'll let you have a moment." she said uneasily and squeezed his hand. Oliver was yet another frayed end to the bundle of knots she had worked herself into.
Oliver noticed that people were hanging about the fringes of the parlor as if waiting for him to pay his respects first. Now that Malcolm was gone, Oliver was the closest thing to family he had. His feet felt like cement blocks that refused to move but he forced them to, up the aisle. Cold began to creep its way up his legs to seize upon his chest and heart. It should have been ME. His conscience beat him with one of his sparing sticks with each heartbeat. Me. Me… I should be there, dead. Mom would be alright , Thea has Roy and I'd be free. Free of this burden.
He abruptly found himself standing before the casket, not sure how he got there with his leaden feet. Tommy was well dressed; Laurel picked out a nice suit for him. His face was one of peace; Oliver was envious of his expression. Queen saw the photo of them as children together and the tears came like Niagara flowing over his face, soundlessly. "Tommy, I am so sorry." he whispered fiercely, only loud enough for him to hear. Composing himself once more and discretely dabbing his eyes, he turned to the left to leave and saw Diggle and Felicity standing to the side near the wall. Felicity looked as if she could, she would pull all the hurt out of his soul with her bare hands and John would it crush it like vermin under his boot.
They welcomed him with open arms. Oliver took Felicity in a full embrace, allowing his walls down just a fraction, which stained the collar lace of her classic yet stylish black dress with salt. John used his large body to shield them from too many prying eyes. He did notice Laurel glancing over several times to see what Oliver was doing. Her expression was one of confusion and hurt. John wished Oliver would make up his mind about who his heart belonged to because he was a thorn in the side of two women he knew; one better than the other.
" Thanks." Oliver said, his voice hoarse from emotion.
Felicity looked at him and replied, " This is what friends do. We rise from the ashes."
" Will you burst into flames like a phoenix too?" Oliver asked cleaning his nose and eyes.
" Uh, no. I didn't plan on it. Fire is not a friend of mine. I just burned my neck with my flat iron tonight. See?" she lifted her ponytail to the side to show a small mark on her slender neck. Oliver was struck by the sensation he wanted to kiss her there. Blinking, he cleared his mind of that absurd thought. But her display did get him out of the abyss he had just been swimming in, at least temporarily.
" I need to go to Verdant." Oliver said.
" I'll drive you, but Carly needed me at Big Belly for something tonight." John replied and Oliver nodded.
" I'll go with you." Felicity remarked as they began moving towards the door, waiving polite good byes.
" No need." Oliver said more curtly than he mean to.
" I think there is." She said simply and dropped it. He cast her a look and she met him eye to eye. A small warm spot formed in the pit of his iced over grieving heart.