I know my last author's note gave you hope I'd be gone longer than this, but I missed writing. [And you, of course. I missed you!] So, this is me, writing against writer's block and making my own wish of a Christmas story come true. Just so you know: I started this fic after episode six of season five aired. So, spoilers for everything that happened until then. It goes AU after that; the first chapter should explain all the changes I've made.
Luckily, Albiona agreed to hop on board once more, guiding me while I stumble through the tenses. Albi, I'm grateful you're with me, even though Arrow is very… ARG... at the moment. That's true friendship. 3
I hope you'll enjoy this. Love, Jules
[Disclaimer: I do know own Arrow or any of its characters. I just borrow them to play with. No copyright infringement intended. This fic will only be posted on Ao3 and my Tumblr.]
One (meet Oliver Queen, human disaster)
In Star City, the most wonderful time of the year brought the great tree lightning in Central Park, the Community Caroling on Nelson Plaza, Santa's Fun Day for unprivileged children, and Oliver Queen's annual near-death experience. The season to be jolly unerringly marked a low point in his year, leaving his world (and mostly him) in pieces. Since he returned to Star City four Christmases ago, Oliver nearly died three times and the love of his life had almost been killed once. So much for falalalala.
So, considering his track record, going after a meta alone on Christmas Eve probably wasn't the smartest idea.
But Oliver wouldn't be Oliver (or the Green Arrow) if that stopped him. He knew he was being reckless, but he also knew one thing: he'd rather risk his life making the city safer than continue sitting in the Bunker by himself, dwelling on how badly he had messed up in 2016, a year he couldn't wait to be done with.
When the alarm sounded from Felicity's computer, informing him that Simon Bellamy had entered Star City's borders, Oliver didn't hesitate long before suiting up and taking his bike to Starlight Motel in the North District (located in the east of Star City, because people christening things around here had a special kind of humor). He had only given himself enough time to scan the information provided by Cisco for Felicity's search algorithm.
Bellamy—Oliver couldn't bring himself to remember the stupid codename Cisco had made up—had the ability to jump through time. He could go back and forth exactly ten days at a time. The explanation how and why Team Flash had figured that out was rather lengthy and contained words Oliver had never heard and already forgotten. All that mattered to him was that the worst-case scenario of engaging this meta was manageable: Bellamy would flee by time-jump and trigger Felicity's alarm again, either ten days in the past or ten days in the future.
Speeding toward the North District on his bike in the pouring rain, Oliver dared to admit to himself that he needed this. He needed to be out here, on his own, finally feeling like he knew what he was doing, because he was winging it in every other aspect of his life.
The day Oliver Queen was officially elected as mayor, he had been ecstatic, proud, hopeful. Since then, reality had caught up with him. In real life 'meaning well doesn't equal doing well'. That was a direct quote by Beth Brinley, political journalist writing for Star City Chronicle.
Unlike Susan Williams, Beth Brinley kept a professional distance when writing about 'Mayor Handsome'. She didn't use shortcuts but went the official way, asking for statements from the PR department or coming to press conferences, confronting him with her stories in advance, giving him the chance to add a statement. All her articles were well-researched, well-written, and—sadly—true.
It was true that Thea Queen wasn't any more qualified for her job than he was. It was true that she was his sister and that making her Chief of Staff was nepotism. As was making Quentin Lance—seasoned in law enforcement but retreating to the bottle to deal with grief—his Deputy Mayor. It was true that most voters' hope that rookie-mayor Oliver Queen would be surrounded and guided by people experienced in local politics, as he had been during his time as interim-mayor, has been shattered. It was true that he spent his time looking into the work of the DA, being present during interrogations down at the police station although that had nothing to do with actually leading this city. (Beth Brinley questioning his priorities and what, exactly, he thought he could contribute to the work of the DA had left Thea scrambling for an answer.) It was true that faking his death in a very public shootout on the steps of City Hall was an insane idea (at least it was to everybody not moonlighting as a vigilante).
It was true that he wasn't a good leader of this city and was making awful decisions.
Not keeping his distance from Susan Williams was one of them. The reporter had come waving multiple red flags, misusing Thea's trust, publishing selected half-truths for maximum attention, and relying on her good looks to get what she wanted. Flirting with him was also hardly professional—but he had shamelessly flirted back, so he was hardly in any position to judge.
Oliver Queen had enough self-awareness to know that Susan Williams was Isabell Rochev 2.0. His experiences in the previous months had reaffirmed his belief that it was better not to be with anybody he could really care about. Sleeping with Susan had been another reckless act. He had known it would bite him in the ass, but he had done it anyway, because he needed to try to move on—since the woman he really cared about was doing the same.
Still, Susan using her inside knowledge to make his insecurities headline news hurt. It hurt even more than her big exclusive reveal that he had been in Moscow when he should have been stranded on Lian Yu.
Felicity was right: he never talked about his time in Russia. Now it seemed like that was a luxury he couldn't afford anymore.
His original plan for tonight had been training and strategizing how to handle Susan and her story. But when he had arrived at the Bunker, Felicity had been ready to leave and their awkward exchange about where she was heading (aka 'meeting Billy') had reminded Oliver once again of everything he had lost. He hadn't just lost a fiancée, he had lost a friend, a confident. (His desperate attempt to have Susan fill this position had been doomed right from the start.) Felicity and he had turned from friends to lovers to colleagues with a history who acted as if everything was fine, as if there wasn't a wall built of unresolved disappointment between them. Felicity was his always and Oliver knew Felicity loved him—still they both knew it was smarter to stay apart because Oliver didn't deserve her love and because Felicity was doing the smart thing to protect herself from him.
Naturally, Oliver had spent the next hours not training but sulkily sitting in Felicity's chair, thinking about the fact that Felicity hadn't used the words 'date' and 'boyfriend' and what that meant—if that meant anything.
If the alarm hadn't sounded, he would have done that the whole night until it was time to meet Thea. His sister had invited him to her place for a Christmas breakfast and quality sibling time. He never had the heart to tell her that he hated her place, because it was the apartment of his ex-girlfriend Laurel, home of bad memories and some of the biggest mistakes he had made since returning to Star City (or, as it has still been called then, Starling City). But his sister felt safe and at home there, so he'd suck it up and show up with a present and a smile tomorrow morning.
The yellow, blinking sign spelling 'Starlight Motel' ripped through the curtain of heavy rain. The weather added its own dramatic, awakening effect with a sudden bolt brightening the sky behind the building. He had been lost in depressing thoughts, summed up quite nicely by a commenter on one of Susan's recent articles: 'Oliver Queen, ladies and gentleman, human disaster.'
Angry, Oliver breaked just as thunder rumbled in the not too far distance. His bike fishtailed on the wet asphalt, water spraying behind him, but he caught it before crashing to the ground.
He took in the two-story building and the parking lot spread out in front of it: yellow doors and squared windows alternated on ground level and second floor. Each door was decorated with a black star, holding the room numbers, signaling to Oliver that his target was on the second floor, second room to the right. He knew because of the camera Felicity's security protocol had infiltrated (or something). It was positioned with a perfect view on the house and the parking lot filled with cars but void of people. Thunder rumbled again, sounding closer. Even with the pouring rain edged forward by heavy wind, the camera made the direct kicking-the-door-in-approach impossible.
Five minutes later, the Green Arrow crashed through the back window of the second room to the left, second floor. Rolling over his shoulder, he got up again, standing tall, his bow drawn, the arrow pointing at the man standing next to the front door. Simon Bellamy was a small man with a chiseled face, bright blue eyes, a nose of lost fights, neatly cut brown hair, and a steady hand aiming a gun.
Oliver knocked the weapon away by a well-aimed arrow.
Bellamy laughed, "Again with that trick."
Oliver didn't have the slightest idea what that was supposed to mean but—or maybe and—it irked him. He was about to jump at Bellamy and knock him out effectively in hand-to-hand combat when something scraped at the back of his consciousness. He froze.
"I'm impressed," Bellamy complimented in a tone that made Oliver despise him. "And grateful, actually. You're earlier than I expected and I really don't want to go… boom." He accentuated the last word with his hands mimicking an explosion. "I also have some things to do in this timeline." He opened the door leading outside. "So, you stay here, while I go do that. You activated the motion sensor. One more step and you, this hotel, and everybody in it are history." He smirked brightly, stepping outside onto the porch connecting all rooms on the second floor. "Good look with that." Then he moved from Oliver's view.
Oliver hadn't survived Ra's al Ghul stabbing him (plus Malcolm Merlyn plus a Mirakuru Man before that) only to ultimately be blown up by this clown on Christmas Eve. The thought came and went just as quickly, because this wasn't happening.
He reached for another arrow (courtesy of Ray Palmer), aimed at the packet placed on the nightstand, and released the string. The tip of the arrow popped open in the air and sprayed its contents directly onto the bomb. Rigid foam wrapped around the plastic explosive/mobile phone-combination while another arrow destroyed the motion sensor above the door. It hadn't even touched the ground when the Green Arrow burst out of the room and onto the porch, propelling himself across the railing. He landed hard on the asphalt of the parking lot, heavy drops of rain drumming on his hood. A thunderbolt missed the moment, but cracked through the sky four seconds later.
Bellamy had been heading toward the street, walking casually despite the raging thunderstorm. Now he shot around, surprised. An angry snarl curled his lips. Oliver didn't have the slightest idea how Bellamy activated his time-jumping powers, but he'd be damned if he let the meta warp away.
The rope arrow flew through the air in the next second and wrapped its bindings around the man, who was knocked backward into a puddle, arms tied to his body.
Quick and determined, Oliver headed toward the bound man, keeping his head bowed so that the hood shielded his face from watching eyes and pouring rain. A blue glow started to surround Bellamy, turning brighter, making Oliver speed up. The lying form seemed to flicker as the intensifying light gained shape and dimension.
Determined not to let this meta escape but also not daring to touch… whatever that was, Oliver sent another rope arrow on its way; this time the end of the bindings stayed in his gloved hands. Oliver pulled, trying to draw Bellamy away from… a portal? The rope connecting the two men stretched instantly, tightening as if being pulled from both sides. Oliver used his whole strength against the powerful tug dragging him toward Bellamy, but his feet slid over the asphalt toward the time… warp… tunnel… thing. Knowing he'd have to let go of the rope or he'd get sucked along with his opponent, he gave one last desperate pull, flexing his muscles, with a cry that was part strain, part anger.
Lightning chose that moment to strike. The bolt jumped from the sky, zigzagging down, hitting the time portal with powerful precision, brightening the scene so much that, for a moment, the whole parking lot was engulfed in blinding white light. It flashed, electricity sparked, and it burst away in all directions, rolled over adjoining streets, and carried on, bathing the North District, then the whole east side of Star City, and finally neighboring burrows in darkness. Deafening thunder followed the dark. Light and roar gone, only the sound of the rain remained, falling onto the now empty asphalt of Starlight Motel. The only reminder of the battle, the time portal, and the two adversaries was a black starburst on the asphalt, steam rising in chilling curls.
Oliver Queen was gone.