Arrow: Objects in Motion

By: Shadow Chaser

Disclaimer:

Arrow and all characters do not belong to me; they belong to CW, Greg Berlanti, Marc Guggenheim, Andrew Kreisberg, and DC Comics.

Story:

Chapter 4 – Confessions and Lamentations

Six and a half days had passed since the Glades had been leveled, nearly a week since Moira Queen had been arrested and Malcolm Merlyn exposed as the mastermind of the Undertaking. Nearly a week also since the SCPD discovered and announced that Merlyn was the infamous Hood, or at least that was what the Police Commissioner Brian Nudocerdo had publicly announced. The announcement had aired three days after the clean-up began and Oliver had seen Detective Lance scoff loudly and shake his head while many others had erupted into murmurs and frowns. Clearly, little, if anyone, believed Merlyn to be the Hood, even with photographic proof of his hideaway and getup; especially not after last Christmas' police debacle.

Oliver knew he should have been grateful for the public support, but another part of him wondered if they would turn on him so easily if they really knew who he was. If the public really knew about him, there would be rumors about, conspiracies thrown due to his mother's involvement in Merlyn's plan. Some would say that both archers were working with each other and pretended to be antagonists. His words would be suspect, not just because of Queen Consolidated, but rather because of his wealth. The public already were incensed by the 'one percenters' who seemingly got away with everything and left nothing for those who were less well off. Those who did not have money mistrusted those who had money, especially when it came to crime.

The media would have a field day spinning his family's name to horrific heights before burying it under so much misperception and misconceptions that the Queen family name would already be crucified even if a jury had found him not guilty. Public opinion was what rue the day, not a box of twelve jurors.

Oliver rotated his arm gingerly as he sat on the stood behind the main bar of Verdant. Almost all of the alcohol behind the bar itself had been stashed away or drunk by light-fingered thieves whenever the guards hired to keep an eye on the place were not looking. Oliver suspected that even those guards had taken a few liberties, but he was willing to write off the loss.

His cell phone beeped an incoming call as he was halfway through a shoulder exercise and stopped to pick it up, "Oliver speaking."

"Hello son," Walter Steele's voice was pleasant as ever, but Oliver noted an extreme amount of exhaustion in them. News of his stepfather's serving his mother divorce papers was already in the news, but Walter had put the impending divorce trial on hold due to Moira's arrest. Oliver wanted to think that his stepfather was saving her the cruelty of going through both at the same time, but he also knew that Walter was a sharp businessman and did not want the public perception that he had been involved in this whole fiasco, not until everything was cleared up at trial. So far now, he was still CEO of Queen Consolidated, having taken his position once more.

"You sound tired," Oliver smiled grimly as he looked around Verdant. The initial barrage of wounded and homeless people that had come in during the beginning days had trickled down to those who were now seeking FEMA's aid as well as meeting up with those who had missing family members and so forth.

Walter laughed lightly over the phone, "The understatement of the year, Oliver. I wanted to ask you for your help here with Queen Consolidated-"

"Walter-"

"I know you are still recovering," the news that it had been him and Diggle teaming up with the Vigilante to stop Merlyn had also been reluctantly released by the police when the media had clamored to find out if it was the Vigilante who had seriously wounded Merlyn on the rooftop. He could have imagined that the media wanted more praise for the so-called 'hero' of the city who had done so much to stop crime in Starling City than the police had.

For the media to find out that it had been Oliver Queen and his bodyguard John Diggle to team up to stop Merlyn alongside the Vigilante, it had been an unexpected story. The media had immediately spun it that perhaps Moira Queen had been working under duress; after all, if her son had been willing to confront the man who had killed his father, then perhaps there was something there instead of misperception.

It had also the unfortunately side effect of putting his and Tommy's friendship under harsh scrutiny, but Tommy seemed to accept it well…if by being well meant not exactly talking to him or avoiding him after their little dock-side chat days ago. Oliver had caught glimpses of his friend leaving and entering Verdant and knew that he was probably running interference between Merlyn Global and here to make sure everything was fine.

The media had also reported that Tommy Merlyn was not the new acting-CEO of Merlyn Global as Oliver had thought he would be, but rather it was a sharp perpetually angry-looking woman named Isabella Rochev who had apparently been voted by the shareholders as acting-CEO. He wanted to ask Tommy about her, but had not managed to catch his friend in all of his comings and goings.

"You want me to come by the office?" he could guess where Walter was going with his questioning.

"I know you do not want to deal with the company as a whole, but the public perception-"

"Is the only thing that's keeping the stocks afloat right now, yeah, I kind of got that," it had not been hard to see stocks plunging from Queen Consolidated as investors fled in wake of his mother's arrest. At least there wasn't the scandal of insider trading being flung towards the media as no one really knew that the arrest was coming. Still, he understood that his position had now been elevated once more to scion of the Queen family, and that people would be looking towards him for answers or even as the new face of Queen Consolidated.

He wanted to say to Walter that he was busy at Verdant, but truth be told, he knew that the nightclub would not be opening within the next few weeks. Perhaps within a month after the Red Cross, FEMA, and other city departments moved their temporary offices towards city hall, Verdant would be ready to open again. He sighed, "I'll stop by…"

"Good," Walter's voice brightened a little and he could imagine the smile on his stepfather's tired face. At least he had made someone happy considering Laurel had been avoiding him or had been extremely busy with the influx of refugees taking advantage of CNRI's temporary offices in the building next to Verdant. Many of CNRI's caseworkers had been accompanying insurance agents and FEMA investigators to building owners' claim inspections. "There's a meeting later this afternoon set for four-thirty with the board and Ms. Rochev of Merlyn Global."

"What does she want?" Oliver immediately had a bad feeling about it and heard Walter sigh.

"Hostile takeover apparently. Since she is the owner of Rochev Incorporated and owns at least a forty-five percentage in stock in Merlyn Global, she is looking to expand her little empire be it as it may," Walter said flatly.

"Oh," he grimaced, "great."

"My words exactly," his stepfather laughed lightly, "but this is perhaps to be an exploratory meeting."

"We'll say no, of course," Oliver knew he publicly claimed that he did not want anything to do with the family company, but he had taken an interest in his family's holdings after a economics course in business investitures and financial management at Harvard Business School before dropping out the next semester after Cambridge and Boston became a little too…boring in terms of the party scene. It had been fun, "exploring" the gigantic college town, be it as it may, but a little too stale after the first two semesters unlike party cities of New York and Los Angeles.

"Yes, which is why I am glad you said you would come. Having a member of the family with Queen as their last name gives more weight," Walter sounded apologetic and Oliver felt a flash of guilt run through him.

"Walter-"

"No, don't apologize Ollie," he cut him off, "even though I am still your mother's husband, there had been a specific reason why I did not change or hyphenate my last name to add Queen. Partly out of respect to your father and my best friend, but also because of public perception."

"I understand," he nodded even though Walter could not see him, "I'll see you at four-thirty."

"Thank you again, Oliver. This means a lot to me," Walter said before hanging up with a click.

Oliver pulled the phone away from his ear and stared at the screen, his eyes reading the numbers that indicated how long the call was, but not quite absorbing it. He shook his head and pocketed his phone before continuing with his shoulder exercise. He spotted Diggle walking out of the shadows where the door to the basement was located with several sheets of paper and head towards the manager's office. He had taken upon himself to help inventory what was left of Verdant's stock after the past six days. Since he had stayed mostly in and around Verdant, Dig had been in and out of the place, checking up on different haunts and listening for rumors and information about public perception on both the Vigilante and about Oliver Queen himself.

Oliver knew that Dig was starting to get a bit bored, even though he was also recovering from his stab wound. Felicity had been sent home to get rest and to avoid the police for a while, but when it seemed like there was nothing coming down for her arrest by Detective Lance, she had cautiously entered the public way to check things out and had even caught Lance's eye, but the man had made no indication that he acknowledged her or even moved towards her.

Oliver wanted to find out what Lance's intentions were towards Felicity, but it she had strictly told him that it was her problem to deal with and so he had allowed her at least that much. He still vowed silently to make sure that if he even got one whiff that she was going to be brought up on charges related to the Vigilante or the whole earthquake machine thing, he would spirit her away. She did not deserve a life in prison or worst because of his stupidity in letting her continue her involvement in all of this after Walter had been found.

"Bartender, fix me up something," Laurel's teasing voice broke into Oliver's thoughts as he blinked and came back to himself to see her walking up, a smile on her face.

"I'm sure I can find a good wine bottle here somewhere," he gestured to the very empty shelves behind him, a hesitant smile on her face.

"I'm sure you can," she shook her head as she leaned against the bar; "I just wanted to stop by and apologize for not being able to really sit down and talk with you since that night."

"I know," he replied, "you're busy with CNRI and the whole thing out there-"

"That's no excuse," she shook her head her smile dimming a little, "even if we are…friends…"

"Ah," Oliver grimaced, floundering for something to say before wincing, "apologies for the other night?"

"…No…" she shook her head, "I technically did break up with Tommy-"

"But…" Oliver continued her train of thought, "I kind of pushed him back to fight for you…" He would never mention that Tommy had gotten really drunk off of Verdant's stash and had tried to punch him in the face for his betrayal of the bond between them; of sending such a mixed message that he should fight for Laurel while at the same time Oliver had slept with Laurel.

"Oliver…" she sighed the smile now completely gone, "I…what we had…what we did-"

"I'm sorry."

"No," she shook her head and stared up at him, her expression earnest, "no, don't apologize for that. It…it was something I think we both wanted and needed. I…I love you…"

"But…" he felt horribly conflicted and guilty at what he had done and could see the 'but' written all over her face.

"No 'buts' right now," Laurel shook her head, "just, maybe from you."

"What?" that was something he was not expecting.

"Is there something holding you back?" she asked, tilting her head, "or was that really a goodbye from you when we had sex?"

"…Wait, what?" he was confused.

"Oliver," she placed her hands flat on the table, "I know that you have feelings for me and I have feelings for you. Our history aside, and the conversation we had, and from what I know…did you give any thought to us when you went to confront Malcolm Merlyn on top of the roof of his building?"

Oliver blinked, speechless from what she was saying. Did she mean to imply-

"You keep forgetting, I'm the daughter of a cop, a detective. I may not have been to a crime scene in person, but I have seen evidence of what wounds look like. I know self-defense and how to handle myself. Your shoulder," she gently reached out and placed a hand on top of where he had been shot. The pain was all but gone, leaving a lingering stiffness that his daily stretches and strengthening had been making better. "Your wound…it's not the wound of someone who's looking to save himself, Oliver. You nearly died that night didn't you? If Mr. Diggle hadn't patched you up you would have bled out."

Oliver grimaced, opening his mouth to defend against her words, but at the same time no sound would come out. It hurt hearing those words from her and as much as he wanted to close himself off to the hurtful words, this was Laurel…he couldn't shut her down. He had tried, tried so hard to push her away, to make her think that he was still fickle, superficial. He wished he could have stayed that way, but he was so drawn towards her. He loved her, and she was the balm to his wounded soul.

Yet…she could never know about the Vigilante. She was too pure, too innocent in his opinion to know how much blood he had shed, of how much he had scrubbed his hands to get rid of the stench of coppery-ozone that he did not want to taint her with it. He hoped that perhaps one day she would accept him, yet at the same time feared that she would reject him, push him away and stare at him with something that he hated – pity. Even though she knew about the scars, he could see the questions burning in her eyes about them. He could eventually tell her about them, but he knew that she was not ready to hear about them.

"Ollie…it's the island, isn't it?"

He opened his mouth again to deny her words before closing them as he realized that it was the truth. It was not the whole truth, but a shade of it that she had figured out. He nodded numbly, "The island…it's…it wasn't a pleasant place."

"I know," she smiled hesitantly, "and I know it's something you don't want to talk about…but if this is what it's doing to you, that you want revenge so badly for your father's death….don't do it, Ollie. Don't hold on to that hatred for so long. It eats you up so badly that you don't know right from wrong. You get lost…you…you don't have anything to live for…"

She sighed, "I want you back in my life, Oliver. But if this is what it means…"

He knew he could have said that it was a one-time thing only. That with Malcolm Merlyn in custody, still in a coma, that he was done with revenge, but at the same time he knew that he was not. He could not guarantee it to her and saw that in her eyes she wanted a guarantee. She was so strong as he contemplated her words; words most likely borne out of experience of dealing with her own grief about her sister and about him. And he realized that even though he wanted a relationship with her, that he truly loved her, he could not…not with the Vigilante between them, not with his father's list, not with his vow… The case could be made to throw everything out to be with her, but Oliver could not shake the sense that after everything the city still needed his help.

At least not yet. Perhaps after all was said and done, but she deserved better than that, to wait for him for years. She deserved the chance to move on, to move past no matter where he stood. He realized he was still stuck in the past, of wanting to hold onto the things that made him who he was before the island. But she…she had grown up…

"…Can I…still talk with you?" he asked quietly and she smiled warmly.

"Always," she smiled, but tears were in her eyes, "Oliver, I love you."

"…I love you too," he murmured as out of the corner of his eye he saw Tommy wander in, freeze in place before a slightly crumpled expression appeared on his face, "you two should be happy…even if I do become the third wheel in this twisted relationship."

"Ollie!" Laurel laughed openly, hitting him lightly on his other shoulder before he reached out and gently turned her and gave her a small push towards Tommy whose expression had turned into a puzzled one. He looked like he was about to flee the area, but Oliver shook his head a little, stopping his best friend in place.

"Tell him that he's allowed to punch me just this once," Oliver called after her as he saw her walking, almost shyly towards Tommy. He watched for a moment as Tommy's posture got defensive, his arms crossed, his wiry frame tight with anger and jealousy, before it relaxed just a little as Laurel's lilting tone started up. It hurt him a little to have broken it up with her and to send her to Tommy just as fast, but he knew that it was for the best.

Tommy and Laurel were non-combatants as far as he was concerned, in the battlefield that was the city, and it was best that his friends stay that way. Laurel would at least get more truths from Tommy than from him. He looked over to where Tommy had entered and saw Alexei Leonov, the bratva commander standing by the doors to Verdant, looking for the entire world relaxed as if he was just admiring the view.

He stepped out from behind the bar and headed towards him, noting the bratva commander flicking a look at him, but continued to look relaxed before following him outside of Verdant as Ollie led them to a more private area near the water wheel.

"Thank you," he said without preamble, "for keeping an eye on him."

"He is a good man," Leonov shrugged, "for a child whose father is a monster."

"That he is," Oliver agreed, "which is why I didn't want him lynched by the mob inside."

"Will you want us to deal with the child's father Captain?" Leonov arched an eyebrow at him, his wrinkled Slavic face becoming a little more wrinkled at the question.

"No," Oliver shook his head, "I want the bratva to continue to lay low. You've been helping this community for far longer than I have since I've returned. I just need information, that is all."

"The courts will not be fair to your name," Leonov's voice was completely neutral when he said it, but Oliver understood the underlying threat behind those words.

"No they will not. But I will not let it fall upon the bratva," he promised, "you have my word."

"That we do," Leonov agreed and Oliver knew it was conditional. As soon as if there was one whiff of a Queen-Russian mob connection, the bratva would deal with him, Captain or no Captain rank. It would irk Anatoly Knyazev in the long run, but even he knew of the close-knit bonds and secrets of the bratva that it must be protected even from threats within.

"Malcolm Merlyn must have trained somewhere. Find me any information you can get," he said.

"This will be presented at his trial?" Leonov questioned and Oliver shook his head.

"I don't know…but it may be," he knew that the bratva's informational network was vast, but most of the time information was not gotten through legal methods. He himself could not present it to Detective Lance or the prosecution team without having it verified through channels, but at the same time as the Vigilante he could somehow use it to his advantage…but also to be cautious at the same time. The bratva could never know of him and the Vigilante being the same person.

"Then I will leave some alive for questioning," Leonov inclined his head once, "Captain."

"Commander," Oliver bowed his head as it was due respect for the commanding officer of the Starling City bratva. Within the bratva, he outranked Leonov, but respect was always given to the 'bureau master' as it was within each city the bratva had a presence there.

Leonov left him there by the water wheel as it spun at regular intervals, keeping the generators running as he stared out at the main part of the city. He closed his eyes and let the cool dock-side breeze pass through him, inhaling the smell of salt and musky brackish water. Besides having Verdant above to cover for his activities below, he had chosen this place not only because it was abandoned, but because it had been near the docks, near the smells that had been his home for five years previous. The smells somehow soothed him at times, even though he did not like to think about his time on the island.

He extended his senses, hearing the cry of gulls, the scrap of feet upon the docks before frowning as he picked up on the screech of tires from what was definitely a cop car rolling to a stop and snapped open his eyes to see Detective Lance followed by two officers stepping out of the car, their footsteps hurried as the headed into Verdant.

He watched, a frown forming on his face as Tommy was escorted out with Lance talking rapidly to him. Oliver canted his head a little and adjusted his hearing to listen in on what was being said.

"…word that…father…awake, Tommy….lawyer is there…but we figure you…see him now…" Detective Lance's voice was cut off as he got into the seat next to Tommy in the back of the car before it backed up and pulled away from Verdant.

Malcolm Merlyn had woken from his coma.

The bow was not an option in his condition, even Oliver knew that. To draw his bow would only further injure his already injured shoulder and so he had strapped a small crossbow to his back as he weaved in and out of the back roads on his way to Starling City General Hospital. The irony of using a crossbow much like Helena did was not lost on Oliver, but he ignored the impulse about her and parked his bike on one of the side streets a few blocks away from the hospital.

It was a non-descript motorcycle that had been cobbled together from custom-ordered parts as well as ones he had found lying around the mansion in the garage. He knew he could have easily picked one of the fastest motorcycles out there, but that would be like advertising to the police that he had a Ducati or Shadow and then they would be able to eventually trace the motorcycle to him.

Traveling as the Vigilante in daylight was a little harder, since his dark green-black kohl would be a little too conspicuous. Instead, he opted to wear a domino mask-hybrid Kevlar padded arming cap underneath his hood this time around. His newly remade Kevlar padded outfit was not ready yet, so Oliver opted to wear his old one, albeit with the arrow-shaped hole around his shoulder sewn up. His head was already feeling itchy underneath the arming cap and the bike helmet he wore, but at least if his hood accidentally fell off, he would not be identified so easily in broad daylight.

Climbing up the draining pipe of the nearest building, he made it to the top with little effort and rotated his injured shoulder a little to loosen some of the tightness and twinge of pain that had occurred with his climbing.

"Are you seriously out there Ollie?" Diggle's voice crackled through the earpiece he wore and he smiled a little.

"You finally figured out I ditched you again?" he had wondered how long it would have taken for Diggle to figure out he had gone out after Tommy had left. It did seem like Diggle had been engrossed with the paperwork…

"Felicity's at the office and no one's down here. You do know that if you get into trouble-"

"This is just a little recon Dig," Oliver jogged lightly across the rooftop and leap easily towards the next one, "Malcolm Merlyn's awake."

"And you want to find out if he's going to hose us," Diggle said a little sarcastically.

"Just trying to protect you," Oliver offered up helpfully and heard the snort of disbelief rumble across the comm.

"Yeah, sure, whatever you say," Diggle replied, "just be careful, okay? You're still not one-hundred percent and before you say anything I know that because I'm not one-hundred percent."

"We all could have different healing rates-"

"I saw you doing your shoulder exercises," Diggle shot back quickly.

"Guilty as charged," Oliver huffed a little as he climbed up another building before leaping across to a broad window that was by the hospital façade and started to climb up, "which room is he in again?"

"Hang on…Felicity left a note somewhere here…" he heard the shuffle of papers and metallic items before Diggle's voice returned, "Twenty-three Tango Alpha."

"Got it," Oliver had long memorized the layout of the hospital, after all, he had been in there several times and it had been instinct to map out the quickest escape route. It had been a little disconcerting when he had told Diggle of it, but it was also a habit he had acquired on the island.

He climbed to the floor in question and shuffled carefully over to the requisite window next to the room T-A before crouching against the large sill and brought out a small earpiece and microphone and pressed it against the lower part of the window where one wasn't quite inclined to stare out at. It stretched his right arm a little more than he would like, but there was no other way save for hanging off of ropes and Oliver knew that even his arms could not hold his weight, not with his left shoulder and chest still healing.

"…would like to remind you Detective that my client is innocent until it is proven he is guilty," the voice of whoever Merlyn's lawyer was spoke up. It sounded smooth, almost fatherly if one was inclined to believe it.

"Yeah well, we did find a lot of evidence," Lance's gruff tone sounded annoyed and angry.

"And you, Tommy? Are you going to testify against me?" Malcolm Merlyn's voice was quiet, breathy, and tired as if he had truly just woken up, but Oliver could hear the conviction and strength in them, the power behind those words. Merlyn probably did just wake up, but had just proven he was still a dangerous predator, even if wounded and pumped full of painkillers, antibiotics, and drugs.

"You, don't need to answer that," Lance cut in, "and don't be quoting the rule book of a lawyer at me, Mr. Ducard."

"I will not, Detective," Oliver suspected that this Mr. Ducard was Merlyn's lawyer. He made a mental note to look up his lawyer when he got back to Verdant. "I am merely curious to the younger Mr. Merlyn's answer. If I need to prepare a set of questions for cross-examination-"

"How about this, Detective, drop all of the charges except first degree murder and I will give you the name of the Vigilante? How is that for a trade?" Merlyn suddenly said.

"Dad-"

"Mr. Merlyn, as your consul, I believe your mind has been addled by the medication given-"

"Hah," Lance huffed out, "this I have to believe. Give me the name and I won't bring you up on new charges, how about that for a deal?"

"No, my client-"

"It's okay Henri," Oliver could imagine seeing Merlyn lifting a hand to stop his lawyer from saying anything, "he wants a name, I can give him the name of the Vigilante."

Oliver frowned, a pit of dread forming in him. This was it…he was going to have to run, flee, cut every single tie to his life again-

"You're looking for Oliver Queen. He's your Vigilante."

Author's Notes:

Ahahahahahahahahaha. *continues to cackle madly* Yeah, leaving it at that. Fair warning, next chapter may be delayed – there's a certain Marvel movie coming out Nov. 8th starring a certain black-haired green-eyed God of Mischief that I am head over heels about. *coughs* Yeah…

Also "Crucible" episode – words fail me. Finally, something the writers got right since the start of Season 2 – still am not quite liking Laurel's storyline (I want her to be strong! Not…this indecisive mopey-gah, Laurel, come on! Be the future Black Canary we all know you are!) Current Black Canary aside (which is totally awesome in of itself) – anyone spot Anatoly Knyazev in the cell next to Ollie on the ship? Heh. He's played by Stargate Atlantis veteran David Nykl who was awesome as Dr. Zelenka.