Chapter: 8
Word Count: 2574

Notes: I hope you all are having a better week than I am. It's been really nutty at work and I've been in bed embarrassingly early. I know I was horrible answering reviews this week. I'm sorry. I'll get back to those soon.

Anyway, have a new chapter. :)

Thanks again to Elsie B for taking a thorough glance over this chapter for me. Reviews are always appreciated, but thank you very much for reading. :)


Chapter 8
(Or: "That Time Thea Got the Team Back Together")

As soon as the door closes behind the reporter, Thea calls, "What do you think?"

She turns just in time to watch him move like a shadow from the back of the apartment. It's a new characteristic; he used to walk less like a ghost and more like an actual human being before he shipped off to Iraq. But despite that, he still looks like the brother she's known all her life: dressed in a gray sweater and jeans, leaning against her wall.

But there are some things that aren't like her brother. His posture is stiff as a board, and his eyes dart around the room as he enters it. Sometimes loud noises make him jump. And, every great once in a while, when he thinks she isn't looking, a sadness so deep washes over him that she wonders how he manages to hold it in.

But they don't talk about that.

They're Queens, after all, and Queens don't talk about their feelings.

Ollie throws her a small smile—the most he ever gives her anymore. Instead of answering her, he pulls a cell phone from his pocket. It takes him a minute to navigate the touch screen, but she can see him press the "2" on the dialpad before he holds it up to his ear. Thea's brow knits in confusion as she wonders who he's calling, but then she wonders who number one is.

"Dig," is his laconic answer, winking at his sister as he says it. What he wants to dig, she doesn't know, but Thea has long since accepted her brother is a mystery she isn't going to solve. "We have a client. Pack your bags for Moscow. We leave in five days." There's a brief pause. "I can't slip past security—they've seen me at the hospital too many times." Thea frowns. What hospital? "She'll need to be reminded we're using the Uncle Deke play to spring her—and make sure she's written it down." Suddenly his face brightens in a way she hasn't seen it in years. "You let me worry about scamming the Gulf Stream. I need you to scam us a pilot." Another pause. "No, you pass the word on to Harper. I'll handle Felicity."

The name resonates immediately. Hadn't Laurel said something about a potential pickpocket named Felicity? Thea snorts. That sounds about like her brother's type: the more dangerous and volatile, the better. Maybe some things haven't changed.

He's barely slipped the phone back into his pocket before she asks, "Is that your girlfriend's name? Felicity?"

The name isn't completely out of her mouth before he tenses. He throws her a warning look before giving her the complex answer of, "No."

She tries again with, "And who is Dig? Is that a member of your team?"

Silence greets her. In response, Thea simply places her hands on her hips. They lock eyes for a long moment, and finally Ollie heaves a deep sigh. "Speedy, the less you know, the better," is his response. She rolls her eyes as she mouths it along with him. It's textbook Ollie at this point: the moment they start anything beyond small talk, he shuts down.

"I'm so sick of you telling me that!" Thea snaps, her exasperation boiling over. "I see you more now than when you were doing… God knows what in God knows where"—he flinches—"but I feel like I actually knew you back then! You never tell me anything anymore!"

His expression stays neutral—not that she expected anything less. He used to argue with her, often yelling and revealing that volatile temper. But not since the Corps kicked him out. Now it's all icy glares and calm tones.

In response, Ollie simply stares at her as though she's someone he's never met. It's eerie, watching her brother regard her like a stranger on the street. Not soon enough for her liking, the familiarity comes back in his eyes and he sighs. "Sometimes I still think of you as the little girl who followed me around in pigtails," he admits in a gentle tone, both an apology and not at the same time. "I forget you've grown up, too."

Quiet lingers between them for a moment, and Ollie nods once to himself. "You want to know about the team?" He doesn't wait for her to answer before turning, motioning her on behind him. "Come with me. I'll show you."

Before he can, his phone rings. As soon as he sees the number, he answers it, holding up an index finger at Thea. "Felicity, can I call you back?" Ollie asks, his tone almost gentle. Thea doesn't get to hear him like that much anymore. "I'm with Speedy"—she groans at the idea of anyone knowing her old nickname—"right now. I can't—"

Whatever this Felicity has to say, she manages to make him go quiet. He stops so quickly Thea nearly topples into him. "What?" he demands in a dangerous voice that sounds not at all like her brother. "How the hell did he find us?" After a moment, he runs a hand down his face with a long sigh. "Damn it. I should've known. She won't turn us in, but she'll leave a nice, clear trail for the colonel to follow."

Oliver brushes past her, starting to pace. This time Thea can't hear a muffled voice on the other end, and she can only assume they're sharing a long, awkward silence. After what feels like five eternities, he finally asks, "Can you hack into the SCPD and make it look like there weren't any hits on the forensics?" Thea's eyebrows shoot up. Ollie's girl has skills.

There's a short pause before Ollie—Oliver I'm-allergic-to-smiling Queen—actually laughs. "I wasn't trying to insult you," he assures her in a placating tone. "I need you to hack into the SCPD computers and erase that information, okay?" He pauses, brow furrowing. "And keep an eye on the colonel's movements. We might have to move quickly."

The pause is brief this time. "I have some other details to talk to you about, but there's a conversation I need to have with my sister." He chuckles while shaking his head, and it's almost freaky how much it makes him look like the old Ollie again. Thea has forgotten how much she misses him. "I'll call you back in a couple of hours."

The smile on his face reaches sickening levels of sunny as he replies to her words, "Yes, Felicity?" While his lips stay quirked up in a grin, his eyes turn sad. "I miss you, too, honey." Thea bites down on the urge to groan. For a girl who isn't his girlfriend, he certainly talks to her like she's his girlfriend. "But we'll see you soon, okay?"

As he slips the phone back into his jacket pocket, Oliver motions her toward the back of the apartment, to the part she never dared to explore. There's a narrow hallway on the north side, and Thea follows her brother into a small room at the end. She stops short as she takes it in: purple walls and bright colors everywhere, down to the polka-dotted comforter on the bed. By the nail polish on the dresser and the lipstick on the vanity, it belongs to a woman, but a fine layer of dust coats everything.

Ollie moves through the room as though he knows it well, but she pauses at the threshold. "Ollie?" she asks in a small voice. "Whose room is this?"

He doesn't answer her, frowning around the space instead. "I know she has a picture in here," he mutters to himself. "She always has pictures." His eyes flash to the top drawer of the nightstand. In an instant, Ollie has it open, pushing aside what look like prescription bottles to pull out a large picture frame. "Perfect."

He turns to Thea with a smile, and it seems to light up his entire face for a moment. "You wanted to know about Task Force Alpha?" he asks her. Ollie places the picture frame into her waiting arms. "This is us."

Whatever Thea expected from an elite military team, the photo in front of her is far from it. Instead of stiff postures and straight faces, their picture doesn't look dissimilar from the one she took with her friends last summer: a group of four, laughing and smiling. Ollie stands in the middle of the group, laughing and lighter than she's seen him in years. An African-American man with a small, sincere smile rests an arm twice the size of Ollie's own on her brother's shoulder. To their left, Ollie throws his arm around the shoulder of a lanky boy who can't be much older than her, his nose wrinkled at the display of affection.

Perhaps the largest oddity in the picture, however, is the woman slung over Ollie's shoulders, arms wrapped around his neck and legs locked at his waist. Her blonde hair falls around her face and her glasses are slightly askew, but her smile is stunning.

"Everyone thinks there are three of us," Oliver tells her in a quiet voice. Thea jumps; somehow she'd forgotten him while staring at the photograph. "But there are really four." He points to the man standing left of him in the photograph. "That's John Diggle, army sergeant."

Thea snorts as she glances up at her brother. "You, working with the Army?" Her lips press together. "I thought you said that stood for Ain't Ready to be a Marine Yet."

Ollie smiles. "Digg's a Marine in the only way that matters," is his cryptic answer. Slowly he points to the boy on the other side of the frame. "That's PFC Roy Harper. He's a jarhead, too."

After studying his face a moment longer, she concludes, "He's kind of cute."

Her brother makes a face at that, but his gaze slowly turns back to the picture again. His fingers slide over the glass, to where the blonde is. Something changes in his smile, softer and smaller but somehow managing to lighten his expression twice as much. "And this is our Air Force flyboy, Felicity Smoak. She's a Captain."

"This is Felicity," Thea realizes aloud. "She's part of your team." Ollie only nods in response, while another burst of intuition hits her. "That's how Laurel made contact—she found this Felicity."

The answer is clearly written across his face, but he offers a few words anyway. "Felicity was exonerated after… what happened," he replies slowly. "She doesn't have to worry about the MPs following her every move." He smiles suddenly, and Thea wonders how he can manage it with such sad eyes. "This is her place-under a false name, of course. Since she isn't here, she let us remodel it, and now we use it for business."

Her gaze immediately darts to the dust covering the dresser, the few sad items of clothing in the closet. As if sensing her coming question, Ollie volunteers, "Felicity is… battling some mental health problems as an inpatient." A weary sigh leaves him. "She needs the stability of the hospital, but she's…" He presses his lips together, looks away for a moment. "She needs us, too. So we find… creative ways to break her out so she can come with us."

There's a finality to his tone, a closing of the subject that warns her he isn't going to say anything more. Not that Thea would ask anyway: Ollie never tells her anything he doesn't want to share. So, instead, she changes tactics. "Well, are you going to tell me about them?" she demands.

The grin that answers assures Thea he's more than happy to indulge her. "I selected Digg—that's what everyone calls John—because he's a weapons expert," Ollie begins slowly, gaining speed as he goes. "I thought he'd be cold and ruthless." He shakes his head, his lips twitching upward the barest amount. "But he's one of the kindest people I've ever met. When things look grim or when tensions are high, John is the voice of reason. He reminds us why we do what we do." A breathy chuckle resonates between them. "And when I'm wrong, he's my reality check.

"Roy… is our mechanical expert," Oliver continues, less tentative this time. He laughs, a sharp, short sound deep in his throat. "I think he could build an engine out of two pipes and some rope." The smile slides off his face. "We're the only family he has. He tries to be gruff—pretend he doesn't care about us—but it's because he's lost everyone else." He snorts. "Quick with a snide remark, slow to trust."

He takes the photograph back before he replies, fingers drifting over the glass where his blonde pilot stares back at him. "And Felicity, well…" Ollie's smile reappears. "She's Felicity." He's silent for so long that Thea thinks he's finished talking, but he finally adds, "I don't think she's ever met anything she can't excel at." A snort, and then his lips turn up at what must be an old memory. "Except cooking." Ollie shakes his head as Thea bites back a smile. "She's…beyond amazing. There's no aircraft she can't fly, no circuit she can't repair, no firewall she can't hack." With another laugh, he adds, "She's the bright spot in this team. No matter how bad things look, she always has a smile and a pun ready."

As he turns to put the photo away, Thea shakes her head. This time she can't fight the smile that spreads across her lips; he can't tell if he's hopeless or oblivious. Or maybe both. Either way, it's kind of sad. Because she knows that pushing him too hard will only make him balk, she decides to nudge instead. "And you miss her," she concludes for him.

"Of course," is his response. Thea's eyebrows fly up. Maybe not so hopeless or oblivious. "There's a part of this team missing without her with us. We miss her every day."

Okay, maybe she had him right the first time. "No, I meant you miss her, Ollie," Thea tries again. "Not the team."

This time Ollie meets her eyes, and they light up for a brief moment. "She's my right hand," is his simple answer, spoken as though it should be obvious to her. "When everything goes wrong, she's the one who keeps us going." He shakes his head, but there's the ghost of a grin on his face. "I've seen her cracking jokes while we pulled bullets out of her."

Thea nudges his shoulder with her own. "And am I ever going to meet them someday?" she teases, already knowing the answer. Ollie's funny about things like that; no way he'd want his team and his baby sister in the same room.

As she braces herself for disappointment, Ollie's expression turns thoughtful. "After the mission," he decides slowly. Thea's eyebrows shoot up. "When we get back, I'll introduce you to the team."

If they get back, he means. She knows what they do is dangerous, that every time they make it back is a miracle. Already her stomach sinks; for the next two weeks, she'll be sitting around, wondering if he's still alive—and unable to tell anyone about her concerns.

She wraps her arms around her brother's neck, moving so quickly that Ollie tenses a little before returning it. "Come back in one piece, okay?"

He kisses her forehead. "Always," he promises with a wink.