A/N: Sorry it's been a few days! Fortunately, I have another long chapter which will helpfully make up for it. I also plan on updating my story, "The Descent to Hell" within the next 24 hours as well for those of you who follow that. Happy reading and thanks for all of the support! Enjoy!
Oliver leaned against Felicity's door, willing himself to walk away and finish what needed to be done so he could get back to where he wanted to be. He took several steps forward, fighting the weight that was pulling him back to Felicity's apartment.
He pulled his car away from the curb and sped through town, towards Roy's house in the Glades. He tried to ignore the ruins of the town that still remained, months after the Undertaking; he tried to pretend that it didn't put a bitter taste in his mouth that he actually believed his mother when she said she had been innocent.
Several quick steps landed him at the front door and he hesitated briefly, wondering if this was a good idea. He knew that he needed to talk to the kid. Roy and Thea were proof that the world lived in the creased folds between black and white.
Quick raps against the door brought Roy out, bare chested and slightly glaring against the bright street lights.
"What the hell?" he growled out, glaring at Oliver. Oliver was about to make a comment about needing beauty sleep until he noticed a smear of red lipstick across Roy's cheek.
"I could ask you the same thing," he muttered, pointing to the kid's cheek. Roy must have an idea of what he was getting at, because he quickly wiped it away and stepped outside, shutting the door.
"Is something going on?" he asked, looking around, automatically scanning the area. Oliver gave the kid credit—he learned quick.
"No," Oliver said easily, shaking his head. "You can't tell Thea," he reiterated.
"Yeah, I know this," Roy rolled his eyes. "Or you'll put an arrow through me again, I got the point the first time," he muttered, exasperated.
"No, you can't tell her about Moira or Malcolm or any of it," Oliver continued.
"I know," Roy looked at Oliver and Oliver realized that Roy understood the severity of the situation. At some point, both Thea and this kid that she called her boyfriend had grown up, and Oliver hadn't realized it.
"I know you want to protect her, but the best way to do that is—"
"Oliver?" Thea's voice interrupted his explanation, and he turned to see his sister, buttoning her blouse. He ignored the panging protective instinct that arose seeing his sister exit in such a manner and instead raised an eyebrow at Roy.
"Thea," he stated in greeting. "I was actually just looking for you," he stated using his overly happy voice.
"Really?" she muttered sarcastically. "Then why are you out here talking to Roy?" she raised an eyebrow, expecting an answer.
"We've been hanging out," Roy interceded.
"What?" Oliver and Thea asked simultaneously.
"You know?" Roy gave Oliver a look and suddenly Oliver understood—he was looking for an alibi—"We met up at the club one night and Oliver made an effort to get to know me," Roy muttered, the lie sounding unbelievable as Thea raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow.
"Oh really?" she questioned, looking between the two men. "Well, Ollie," she glanced at Oliver, a smirk on her face. "Roy here just asked me to move in with him," she smiled her innocent, Thea Queen brat smile.
Oliver spared a rapid fire glance at Roy who visibly shrunk; he might be super-human, but he had yet to best Oliver in a fight. Oliver called on years of stoicism as he looked calmly between Thea and Roy before answering.
"He's a good guy, Speedy," he looked at Roy and Oliver realized that he meant it. Despite the shit hand that the once-street rat had been dealt, he had managed to do better than his circumstances. Thea's mouth visibly fell at Oliver's words as he continued. "If it's something you think you're ready for and it feels right to you…" his voice trailed off as he shrugged his shoulders, enjoying the pair's shocked expressions.
"Fine," Thea muttered, recovering quickly. "But if your younger sister moves out, then you need to, too. You're nearly middle aged Ollie, you're the CEO of a successful company, you have a majority share in Verdant, and you still live at home!" she pointed out as she threw her hands up in the air in exasperation.
It was now his turn to look at his sister, completely shocked. He knew that she had noticed the tension in the house, but there was no way for Thea to guess the severity. He had quickly determined that living with Roy would be a safer alternative than living with Moira; however, he wasn't prepared for his sister to push his hand.
"I am not nearly middle aged," he muttered, avoiding the subject.
"Oh come on Ollie, grow up," Thea rolled her eyes. "I'll move out when you do!" her lips curved with the challenge.
"Fine!" he surrendered. He didn't really want to live in the Queen mansion and there really was no reason to remain if he wasn't watching out for Thea. Unfortunately, it was just another thing to deal with on top of dealing with an assassin and once-friend back for revenge.
"Ha!" she twirled in triumph, kissing Roy on the lips. "We'll go apartment hunting this weekend," she suggested, running a finger down his bare chest; Oliver nearly vomited. "Now, get rid of him and come back inside," she whispered, conspiratorially as she shut the door.
"She had already agreed before you showed up," Roy looked at Oliver with a smirk on his face and Oliver rolled his eyes.
"There's no reason for me to stay if she's not there. Take care of her," he glared at Roy, hating to entrust his sister with anyone else.
"She's my life," he said simply, shrugging. "We need to talk though; you can't expect me to take care of her if—"
"Not tonight," Oliver shook his head slightly as Thea's head peeked through the window. "We can talk later. There's more to this than you'll ever want to know," Oliver mumbled softly, knowing Roy would hear.
"Doesn't mean I don't need to hear it," he looked at Oliver pointedly.
Oliver nodded, agreeing as he turned to walk away. Dark movement caught his eye as he got in his car. He would have been concerned, what with Slade and Malcolm both being back in Starling, but the blonde hair shining in the moonlight gave the intruder away. He pulled into an ally and shut off his car, stepping out in the open as Sara easily made her way from the roof tops.
"We need to talk," she spoke crisply.
"I thought I told you—not tonight," he bit back. He couldn't look at Sara and not see Felicity's pale face after shoving Tockman out of the path of Sara's knife.
"I came to apologize," she stated, lowering her head in a manner that he recognized as the behavior of a League member if they had committed a grievance against their leader.
"God, Sara," he muttered, rubbing his hands down his face. "What the hell were you thinking?"
"I thought when I came back, things would just fall back in place, you know? Surely you get that?" she looking at him, her eyes searching his.
"You think that—what? When I came home, everything went back to normal?" he nearly shouted. "That I wasn't atoning for everything that my father had done, God, that I had done on the god-forsaken island? That my life just picked up where it left off five years before? Do I seem like the same Ollie to you?" he questioned her harshly, almost afraid of the answer—he didn't want to be the same person he had been before the island.
"No," she murmured, shaking her head. "That's it, you're not Ollie at all," she looked at him seriously. "But I don't, I just—I don't understand," she finally settled on confusion.
"Understand what?" he asked.
"When you came back, your family was ecstatic to see you and despite everything with your mother, Oliver, she would have done anything to get you back—"
"She was the whole reason I was there!" he shouted, flinching at the grudge that still remained in his voice.
"And Laurel, despite what you had done to her—to her love, her trust—she took you back even after she had been with Tommy—"
"Sara, stop," Oliver threatened, stepping closer. Sara was venturing into territory that she knew nothing about, but she didn't recognize the warning in Oliver's voice as she continued.
"Laurel won't even look at me Oliver," Sara stated, accusation in her tone. "She acts like I am the only guilty party in the breaking of her heart. Tommy welcomed you back, both as Ollie and as the Arrow. Sometimes I wonder why it was so easy for you," she muttered and he exploded.
"Easy for me!?" he shouted. "You thought that coming home was easy? My family didn't know how to act around me, Sara, and to top it off, I live a lie around them—God, I hate my mother right now because of her lies and I'm just as bad. Laurel hated me at first and then after Tommy died, she hated me again—hell, probably hates me still. Tommy had to die for me to find my purpose here, Sara, so what's it going to take for you to finally realize you are home—because let me tell you, there's a big difference between coming home and being home!" he finished, panting as the anger flooded his veins.
"So is it terrible to want to go back!" she yelled, but Oliver realized it wasn't a question—she really thought she could.
"You can't Sara, and I wouldn't if I could," he shook his head, the bonds that had held him to this woman slowly releasing. She must have felt it too, because she let out a soft whimper.
"Don't leave me Oliver," she whispered.
"I would never leave you, Sara, but you're walking away and I can't let you take me down with you," he stated, seriously. He would never walk away from her if she wanted his help, but he had learned that some people didn't want saving. "You need to decide: move forward, or move on," he looked at her sternly and when she didn't answer he took one small step forward and pulled her towards him. He inhaled her scent—leather and regrets—and kissed her softly on the forehead. "If you ever change your mind," he murmured the promise against her skin; they could never go back, but they could always move forward.
Minutes later he was standing over the sleeping form of Felicity Smoak, who had fallen asleep fully dressed on the couch, and the weight that had been building on his shoulders since he realized that Felicity had gone to the bank alone slowly lifted.
He thought about Malcolm coming for Thea. Oliver would never let the man near her. Thea was finally living a life that she enjoyed—a life she had control over. He wouldn't let anyone take that from her.
He thought about Slade coming for him. Oliver knew the man would use anyone in Oliver's life as leverage. For a brief moment, Oliver considered running. It would protect the people he cared about the most. It would move the inevitable battle away from his home. Then he recalled his conversation with Sara. He wasn't the Ollie he had been and although the old Ollie would have run, he planned to stay exactly where he was.
"I wish you to know with what a sudden mastery you kindled me, heap of ashes that I am, into fire," he whispered softly as he gently lifted her from the couch and carried her to her bed.