Secret Weapon

Chapter 2: Realizations

Author's note: This is a surprising one, even for me. A lot of what happens here is mysterious, guesswork for you. Challenge from me to you, perhaps? I struggled how exactly to write it, although i have clarity now: fits with my entire idea for the story. Tip:pay attention to dates and locations!

Lots of Olicity drama, among other things, Malcolm Merlyn fans will have a field day with this too:p

XxXxXxX

Oliver's Apartment, January 2018.

Oliver came back home from Merlyn Global,smelled a pie baking in the oven. Strawberry. Felicity knew it was his favorite, but it brought back memories he'd just so recently revisited. Rebecca Merlyn's strawberry pie, Malcolm's kindness, the blissful days of his childhood.

Felicity came out to welcome him, throwing her oven mitts aside.

"Oliver, what the hell?! I've been worried sick! What on earth are you up to? Thea called me, said you completely flipped out on her this afternoon."

Oliver felt his anger at Thea rising. "Yeah, trust her to run around narking on me, swallowed up by her fake self-righteousness." He gently pushed Felicity away, then went on to change into his usual clothes.

"Oliver, WHAT the HELL is up with you? Why are you only home around midnight, why was your phone off this entire time? And you cancelled your meetings for tomorrow morning!"

"Well, screw the meetings!" he snapped.

She went up to him, her face painted with concern. She sat him on the couch. "Oliver, you know you can tell me anything, whatever it is, so tell me," she asked gently.

Oliver composed himself a little. Her voice had a calming effect on him. "Well, instead of telling you, I actually have a question."

"Of course."

"That day on the Island, when Malcolm sacrificed himself for Thea. Tell me how it happened."

Felicity balked slightly. "Well, I've already told you."

"Tell me again, in detail. I need it, Felicity," he asked in a hoarse voice.

She obliged. She described Malcolm's complete lack of hesitation in jumping on the mine, the way she was surprised by his kind demeanor, his clear love for Thea.

"Oliver, honestly, I saw an entirely different Malcolm Merlyn then and… Not only Thea owes him her life. We all do. If he'd allowed the mine to explode, if he had not literally ORDERED us to get away, insisted on it in that maddeningly commanding tone of his... I- I wouldn't be alive, neither would Curtis. Like I told you before, I used to hate him, but now I actually owe my life to him. It's so strange."

Oliver settled in closer to her, poured them both a glass of wine. "Well, I have some stranger things to tell you. First of them concerns Thea."

Oliver explained to her Thea's seeming lack of emotion about what Malcolm had done for her, his own fear the bloodlust was expressing itself in a different way, the suggestion Malcolm had made way back when that Lotus was not a permanent solution.

"Oliver, perhaps you're overreacting a little? Perhaps she is just not ready to talk about it?"

"I don't know, but it feels so… heartless." Oliver whispered.

Felicity did not know how to respond so she just held him.

Oliver took a sip of his wine and broke the silence eventually.

"I saw him today, you know. Or at least I though so."

"What?" she turned to him, startled, so Oliver explained about going to Merlyn Global, seeing the silhouette on the roof.

She was flabbergasted and rendered speechless for a while.

"You really miss him despite everything, don't you?" She said, finally.

"I do,"Oliver admitted. "Felicity, years ago, before you ever knew him, before his wife died, he was like… like a second father to me." He told her some of the stories from the past which were haunting him. "And even after he turned into the Dark Archer, he did spring my mother from prison, had her cleared of the charges for the Undertaking, he did rescue Thea from Slade's goons, he helped us with Ra's, then in our fight against Dahrk, then against Chase. He was always there, somehow, like this twisted, protective sentinel." Oliver's breath hitched. "I think I've subconsciously gotten used to knowing he'd be there. And the thing I cannot forgive myself for is, I never even said a simple fucking 'thank you' to him. Well, I did, once, but it was less than enough."

Oliver remembered the occurrence. It was when Thea was in the hospital during her first bout of bloodlust and he had shaken Malcolm's hand in the corridor, thanking him for being supportive and helpful. He remembered the look Malcolm had given him then, of surprise and gratefulness, remembered the warmth he'd returned it with. Oh, it haunted him now, another glimpse of the kindness he knew the man possessed. He felt the pang of missing him yet again.

He swallowed the tears which threatened to come.

Felicity snuggled even closer to him and her touch gave him the strength to continue. "The thing is, we are now facing a war for the very existence of this entire city and having an ally like Malcolm back would be the deal breaker against Cayden James. He would know what to do, because I don't, none of us do. He is like a hundred steps ahead."

Felicity put a soothing hand on his chest. "Ollie, I know Malcolm was a twisted form of support to you and did help a lot, but we can deal with Cayden, and we-" She broke off as the reality show which was running on tv in the background was stopped by a blaring BREAKING NEWS sign.

'Another explosion in Star City, main station, train bound for Ivy Town. Current casualties: around 400."

Then Cayden James appeared with his smug face on Felicity's laptop.

"How do you like my latest achievement, Mr Queen? Remember your sojourn to Ivy Town with Ms Smoak a few years back? Well, here is the reverse version of the happiness you felt then. Perhaps Ivy Town itself will be next. And well, you took the highway then, so my possibilities are endless."

Images of the train and the station exploding flashed before their eyes.

Oliver looked on as Felicity asked: "How did he hack my laptop?! How the hell did he know about Ivy Town?! "

Oliver's tone turned morose. "Like I think I told you before, Cayden's a hundred steps ahead. I hate it. And we sure as hell could use someone like Merlyn to counteract that. We're useless against Cayden. No offense to you or Diggs, Quentin, or Thea."

Felicity rose from the couch. "None taken. But speaking of, I need to make some phone calls to them, while you stay here and brood."

She went into the other room. Oliver just leaned back on the couch. "Yeah, make all the phone calls you like, for all the good it will do us." He griped, then drank the rest of his wine in one gulp.

Then another memory hit him.

Christmas Dinner at Queen Manor, the first one he'd had after returning from the island years ago. He remembered the conversation had turned to the topic of his secret alter ego and people were exchanging opinions.

"What are YOUR thoughts, Oliver?" Malcolm had asked him from across the table.

Oliver remembered feeling insecure, afraid of accidentally revealing the fact it was actually him, so he said something about the Vigilante needing a different nickname than ''the Hood". Malcolm had suggested "Green Arrow" then. "Lame," Oliver had commented. Malcolm took the rude comment in stride and just smiled at him over the rim of his wineglass. But, hadn't there also been a flicker of hurt beneath that seemingly impenetrable Merlyn mask of perfect composure, Oliver wondered? Was it yet another one of those flickers of Malcolm's deeply guarded emotions that Oliver kept remembering and realizing now?

Damn it, Felicity was right. He really missed the man.

And how ironic was it, that now, years ago, Oliver bore the nickname 'Green Arrow', that he had chosen it for his alter ego himself, without anyone's prompting.

It actually felt right. Oliver realized Malcolm had been right all those years ago. He had been right so many times. It's like the man was a hundred steps ahead intellectually. At first, "Green Arrow" sounded like just a street sign, but then, Oliver noticed the deeper meaning behind it, the meaning Malcolm also must have seen, way earlier than he had. Oliver chose green as the color of his costume, of his arrows. It was his theme color. Oliver remembered Felicity once telling him green was always thought of as the color of hope. And that's what Oliver had been trying to do ever since he began his crusade: bring hope to the citizens of Starling, to his friends, hope they would conquer it all, whatever menace came their way. The meaning and influence of colors had been analyzed for ages, by philosophers and psychologists alike. Of course Malcolm had known it. Oliver had read up about it at some point, actually searched for the metaphorical meaning of black, expecting it to be equaled with evil. Then, to his surprise, he found out that while other colors had certain established meanings and effects on people's psyche, both black and white were actually the only colors in the entire spectrum which were ambiguous. No effect, unless you chose one. Paradoxically, it fit with Oliver's current thoughts about Malcolm. He wore mostly black, but he could be either cruel or kind. So the color did not define him as bad. Quite the opposite, perhaps. Perhaps it actually hid the goodness inside which Malcolm had learned was too risky to show to the world, because when he had shown it, he had been hurt in the cruelest way possible, he was vulnerable. Not to mention Rebecca, who had been light itself.

Oliver's mind traveled back to the night of the party again, to Malcolm smiling at him over the rim of his wineglass. Oliver looked at his own wineglass right now and raised it. "Here's to you, Merlyn," he whispered a toast. "Wherever your soul is now, I wish you were here instead."

XxXxXxX

Lian Yu, May 2017, aftermath of the explosion.

Malcolm woke up, propped up awkwardly against a tree. His vision was blurry, his back hurt. He faintly remembered the pain as he'd hit the trunk after he managed the jump as the mine exploded and the blast wave had thrown him against the tree. He looked at the smoldering crater in the middle of the road close to him. He had no idea how much time had passed since then. He tried to get up, but couldn't. He braced himself against the trunk and after many futile attempts, finally managed to get up, but it was a huge and painful effort.

He'd researched the Island's topography enough to know where to go for shelter, but he actually had to partly crawl to get there whenever his legs gave out under him. There was a bunker, a few hundred meters from his location, so that was where he went. He eventually made it there, stumbled down the stairs, feeling beyond exhausted. Funny how the banister, of all things now felt like his only lifeline. He thought he was hallucinating when he heard a distant rumble, then felt the ground shake. Pieces of concrete started to fall from the ceiling. He dove under a tall metal table and fell unconscious to the sounds of a deafening explosion. The ground shook. Yet another ironic reminder of his previous crimes. Was that what the victims of he earthquake he'd orchestrated in Starling had felt like before they perished?

He woke up some time later, cans of spam scattered around him. He felt so weak, but then again, he was never one to stay down, so he scrambled his way up towards the entrance and all he saw was a... wasteland. A major catastrophe must have befallen the island. His mind was fuzzy, memories and images flashing, in complete disarray. Faces, situations; and then there came some clarity too, of what had happened. He'd grasped at it, but it was like grasping at straws and those bits of clarity scared him. He wondered why he had these memory lapses. It must have been because of some sort of a concussion.

'Keep each other safe' The phrase rang in his ears. At least on this one, he was clear. Thea, Felicity.

He felt the need for some fresh air, if only to clear his head, so he stumbled on, found a few patches of greenery, mercifully preserved in the midst of all the destruction around. He was tired, so very tired, so he lay down on the grass for a while. He got up and made his way back to the bunker, practically devoured some of the cans of spam and beans he found there, then arranged a makeshift bed from a few blankets. Luckily, the bunker was also stocked with canisters of water. It had no radio or any other communication equipment, though.

He got a little bit stronger with time, able to go out, find some of the undamaged areas of Lian Yu, gather some mushrooms, some wood to make a fire outside to warm himself up.

He regained many of his memories. They felt so unreal sometimes. One day, he ventured out, in a somewhat frustrated mood, tired of the spam, hoping he could maybe hunt some game and get a decent meal. How long can one retain one's already meager strength on one can of food and some herbs a day?

He climbed a hill.

'How very ironic, Oliver,' Malcolm Merlyn thought as he observed the landscape below.

'How ironic I should find myself stranded on the very island I'd sentenced you to by my actions so many years ago.'

His mind was flooded with memories he wished he could forget, deeds he had committed but wished to undo, but most importantly, it was overwhelmed with questions. Thea, Felicity, Curtis, William…

Had they survived, were they alright? How could he ever make sure of that, trapped in this wasteland?

Was it some sort of poetic justice he was stranded here right now, with no apparent way out, no knowledge about those he loved, just like Oliver had been?

Malcolm adjusted the grip on his bow, which he'd managed to grab just before jumping away from the mine, after tricking Boomerang to step on it: the only solution he could really think of to stop him and Talia's ninjas from going after his friends. After Thea. He remembered the leap, remembered some of the shrapnel hitting him. What he also remembered was Thea's mild look before he'd ordered her to escape. The first non-hostile look he'd gotten from her in months. It was worth the pain. It was worth everything.

Now he stood on this hill, not certain of anything. He noticed a female deer grazing in one of the spots of greenery. He aimed his weapon at her, prepared to shoot. She turned to gaze at him, fear freezing her in place, making her the perfect target. Yet still, so beautiful, in the middle of a wasteland. So innocent. Now what, she had survived the extreme odds of an island exploding only to become what, his next meal?

'I really am a monster," He shook his head.

Malcolm lowered his bow and approached the animal slowly, expecting her to try and escape, but she just stood there, as if resigned to her fate. She looked at him, with that soft deer gaze. He sensed the fear was paralyzing her.

Malcolm put down his bow and reached out to touch her muzzle.

"It's alright, you're safe, I won't hurt you," he cooed.

The animal hesitated, then leaned into his touch, clearly in need of some comfort after the trauma of the explosion. Malcolm leaned in closer, whispered softly to help her calm down, then led her back to the camp, helped her into the bunker. He noticed her leg was wounded, so he treated it with whatever he had available, then made her lay down to speed up the healing process. He was surprised when she raised her head and just nudged him softly in a gesture of trust. He petted her gently in return.

"You're safe," he reassured her.

Days, then weeks seemed to go by. He often went out to gather some food for both of them. Seeing this tender, innocent animal grow healthier improved his mood, even though regaining his memory grew increasingly disturbing. He saw Adrian Chase, saw himself being tortured, maimed, things he could not understand. Things which made him so tired after he woke up that he was barely able to move, but then he knew he had to get up to make sure this fragile creature that needed him to take care of her was tended to. He named her Aurora, which meant 'dawn', a close synonym to 'light'. And she was light, the definition of it, the luminescence in the midst of the darkness he had been going through for so long. It might have seemed mental to an oblivious observer, but he talked to her as if she were human, told her everything about himself. And she had a sense about him. He didn't need to give her commands, to train her, she SENSED him, sensed a way to communicate with him. She would nudge him with her muzzle when he needed comfort, alerted him to when she was hungry.

His memories were still coming back, though, and what he remembered sometimes petrified him. He did not know why he kept hearing Adrian Chase's voice. He did not know why his nightmares were focused around himself doing things he'd never done even in his cruelest moments, in his strongest bouts of anger.

And then, one horrible night, he remembered it all. He wished it was a hallucination, but it wasn't. He ran outside and retched violently as the memories fell upon him like a merciless avalanche. He rinsed his mouth with some of the water. "No, no, no, NO!" He screamed, but the wasteland just responded with an empty echo of his desperation.

He knew what he had done, the latest of his sins, unknown to none, and he also knew what had been done to him. Perhaps, in view of this newly gained knowledge, being stranded on this island was the best thing that could have happened. He still hoped those memories were an illusion, which would vanish with time.

They did not. Malcolm remembered and it truly terrified him.

In the afternoon, Malcolm went out to walk his deer friend to graze the green areas, but from he moment he woke up, he'd felt threatened, he felt this League-instilled instinct sensing unknown danger. He subscribed it to his recent memories about having done what he did, what he had been forced to do. He decided to instead focus on Aurora and on the vestiges of beauty left in this desolate place.

Suddenly, he heard a rustle. He felt his alarm senses go off, but still thought it was just his paranoia kicking in. He fed her some of her favourite herbs.

Then he heard a voice he hoped he'd never hear again. "Hello, Malcolm."

End notes: Yeah, I know, this is a cliffhanger, lots of mystery. I felt tempted to do the big reveal now, but, well, had to restrain myself. Hope you enjoy it anyway.

Although, the next one is already in the works, and you know how I looove your reviews, so ya know what to do next, reviews keep me going!