May 13, 2013, morning:

Too many reporters are camped out at the base of the driveway to the Queen's mansion, but the security staff are doing their jobs – nobody has been permitted entrance onto the property. Oliver has to stop at the front gate to prove who he is, then shoots past the crowd on his motorcycle. Not for the first time he admits to the advantages of being a billionaire's son – advantages he hadn't had for five years.

The motorcycle screeches to a stop at the front door, and Oliver doesn't bother to put it away properly. He turns it off, tosses the keys to one of the two men standing at the front door – at least Moira had had the foresight to hire additional security forces before her announcement – and hangs his helmet off the handlebars.

Inside the mansion is quiet, in the way the large, empty building usually is when they're not hosting a party, and Oliver stops to a halt in the main entrance. Would Thea be in her room, or would she have gone somewhere else? He hasn't been nearly as close to his sister as he should have been since his return, and before that he'd missed five formative years of her life. The truth is, he barely knows her better than she knows him. Coming to a decision, Oliver heads for the living room just off the entrance, deciding to start with the nearest room.

He freezes in the doorway, drinking in the sight before him. Thea is sitting on the couch alone. She's leaning forward, staring intently at one spot on the carpet, forearms resting on her knees. There's a phone clutched tightly in her right hand and silent tears dripping down her face. She looks shattered. He steps forward and she jolts, looking up with surprise.

There's a brief, momentary panic in her expression before she shifts to relief. She stands and they meet in the middle, Oliver engulfing her in a hug that he never wants to end.

"Ollie," she says, voice cracking, muffled against his shoulder.

She's aggravating his wounds, but Oliver couldn't care less. "I'm here," he says quietly in response.

The phone is still clutched tightly in Thea's hand, digging into his back slightly, and she sobs into his shirt. The news plays in the background, sound muted but captions on. Right now there's a reporter on screen actually in the Glades, the streets behind her empty. He takes in the feeling of his sister in his arms, of the warm body clutching tightly to him. His shoulder throbs with a constant background pain and his muscles ache from the exertion but he's not letting go before she does. (Hugs. He'd missed hugs a lot.)

"How could she?" Thea cries out, and there's no need for clarification.

Despite his own anger at their mother, Oliver knows Thea needs something else right now. "She was trying to protect us," he responds, his voice still low and calm.

Thea pulls back from the hug slightly, still not letting him go, to look him in the face. "How can you say that? She was… was willing to murder hundreds of people!"

"I didn't say it was right," Oliver says, shifting his hand to rest on her shoulder. "I'm just giving you her reasoning."

Thea shakes her head and Oliver leads the two of them to the couch.

"Walter left, before… before Mom called the reporters," Thea tells him with a sniffle. "I think, I think Mom knew something about his kidnapping."

Oliver feels an irrational surge of anger at his step-father. He knows it's the right thing for Walter, understands why the man can't bear to face the Queen Mansion or his wife (it was unlikely Walter had known the Undertaking would occur that night when he'd made his decision to leave), but all Oliver can think about right now is how this is going to affect Thea. They settle on the couch together and Oliver clasps his sister's hand.

"Walter's a good man," he ends up saying. "He'd come as soon as you called." Oliver hadn't known that was what he was about to say, but he truly believes it. He hasn't had much time to get to know Walter but he's seen the way the man looks at Thea. That's enough for him to know how much Walter loves her.

"Are you alright?" he finally asks, carefully and with concern. "They told me at the front gate you only just got back yourself."

Thea stifles another sob. She shakes her head and glances at the phone she still has a tight grip on. "Roy," she says. "He lives in the Glades. I had to… I had to do something."

Oliver glances up, as though he expects Roy to be nearby even though he knows there's no one else in the room. Thankfully he doesn't think Thea is devastated enough for something to have happened to the kid. Whatever concerns he has about his sister's boyfriend are easily pushed aside. He squeezes Thea's hand comfortingly.

"Where is he?" he asks calmly, mind running through the options, cursing himself for not thinking that maybe Thea could have been in the Glades while he'd been fighting Malcolm.

"Still in the Glades," Thea responds. She sniffles slightly, then uses the back of her hand (the one still clutching the phone, not the one still desperately holding onto Oliver) to wipe away some of her tears. "He, he wanted to help people." Her voice turns less shaken at the end, proud of her boyfriend, and Oliver can't help but feel the same way.

Maybe Roy isn't such a bad choice after all, though Oliver doesn't know if he'll ever actually warm up to the idea of his little sister dating. Sometimes, to him, she's still that twelve-year-old kid he hadn't even told he'd be leaving.

"He texted though," Thea continued, gesturing with her phone. "Said it's calmed down slightly since Superman's announcement."

Oliver Queen's been trying to make it home from the club, he's been stuck in the city on his motorcycle, unaware of the situation in the Glades and unable to come to the phone. He knows nothing about Superman and the Green Arrow's involvement, and nothing about the situation other than what the general public know. "Superman?" he asks.

"Yeah." Thea sits up straighter, wipes her tears again. Her voice is stronger and Oliver knows she hasn't recovered from their mother's betrayal, but she's going to be alright. "Apparently, the Green Arrow stopped one of the earthquake devices and Superman stopped the other. He said he couldn't find it until it started to go off, which is why there were still tremors."

"We're lucky he was here then," Oliver says. Because they are so, so lucky that Superman had been watching Moira's announcement at the time she'd made it. Metropolis is on the other side of the country, four hours ahead of them – Superman could have been asleep (if he needed sleep), or simply doing something other than watching the news, and hundreds would have died.

Thea snorts, shakes her head. "You know," she says, "I was so mad when the Arrow attacked Mom but now, I'm starting to wonder if he already knew then, what she was involved in. I hated him for what he did to her but now…"

Oliver understands the complicated emotions flowing through his sister. He doesn't need her to like his alter ego. (But he hadn't known, he'd only suspected and not wanted to believe. If only he'd done something then. It's not worth dwelling on.) "It's alright to hate him for attacking Mom," he starts.

Thea gives him a look, stopping him from saying anything more. "He saved hundreds of lives tonight," she responds incredulously.

Oliver shakes his head. "The two things are not mutually exclusive," he says. "He's also taken lives. You can hate him and thank him at the same time."

Thea seemed skeptical, but she doesn't argue. Is she a fan of the Green Arrow now, or is she just having trouble with the idea of feeling two different things at once? After a moment, she yawns though, and Oliver is reminded of his own exhaustion.

He can't help but yawn in return.

Thea chuckles at his answering yawn and Oliver grins in response, scooting closer to her. Taking the invitation for what it is, Thea leans into him and rests her head on his shoulder.

"You know, it might take Roy a while to get back to you. Things were pretty chaotic in the Glades when I left."

Thea hums wordlessly in agreement, glancing down at her phone again, but she doesn't move.

Oliver lets it slide – he can understand wanting to wait up for someone you love. Or someone you might love – Thea hasn't known Roy too long, he doesn't expect her to have already figured out her feelings.

So they sit and they wait and, slowly, Thea falls asleep against Oliver. He holds her, feeling incredibly protective, and lets her rest for about ten minutes before he realizes this isn't going to work. He would gladly stay here all night, keeping his sister comfortable and safe, but his recent injuries mean that that isn't an option right now. Thea's head is resting on his bad shoulder and, after ten minutes, the throbbing has increased enough that Oliver knows it's only going to get worse. And his aching joints and muscles make it much more difficult for him than usual to maintain the same position on the couch. He can't sit like this all night, much less for another hour.

Coming to a decision, Oliver stands slowly and carefully, scooping up Thea as he moves. He keeps his left arm around her back, her head still resting on his left shoulder, and slips his right arm under her knees. An eighteen-year-old woman is no light weight, despite Thea's small size, but she doesn't feel heavy to Oliver. He pauses for a moment, but Thea only mumbles slightly and doesn't wake.

Oliver carries her up to her room and tucks her into bed. She's still got a grip on her phone, but it's not iron-clad, so he carefully slips it free, putting it on her bedside table. With one last fond glance backward, Oliver quietly closes her door behind him as he leaves.

Despite his own pain and exhaustion, Oliver only takes a seat on the edge of his bed when he reaches his own room. He pulls out his phone, debates for a moment, then calls Diggle.

The phone rings twice, then Diggle answers. "All good Oliver," he says immediately, wasting no time on greetings. "Tommy, Laurel, and Captain Lance are all at Laurel's place. None of them got injured."

Oliver closes his eyes in relief, gives himself a minute. "Tommy?"

"Asked about you. I couldn't say much obviously, but I told them you were at home with Thea." He pauses. "I don't think he knows about Malcolm yet."

This time Oliver winces. His friendship with Tommy has survived so much already, he doesn't know if it can take any more blows. He doesn't want to dwell on it.

"How are you holding up Digg?"

"Heading home," Diggle responds, "but I'm good man. You need to get some rest yourself."

Oliver nods, though he knows Diggle can't see it. "I was going to call Felicity too…"

"Let her get some rest too," Diggle says firmly, and Oliver can just picture him shaking his head. "You just saw her. We're all fine Oliver."

Right. Of course. Oliver knows that. He shakes his own head, trying to clear his mind, and realizes that Diggle is right. After everything that's happened the past week he isn't thinking straight. He's exhausted and in pain and, hopefully, sleep will grant him the clarity he's looking for.

"Right," he responds. "Foundry, tomorrow?"

"Let's wait until noon at least?" Diggle says, amusement clear in his own exhausted and pain-filled tone.

Oliver hasn't looked at a clock recently and he can only imagine how late (or rather, early) it is. He gives his agreement, knowing there's still things he needs to take care of outside of the foundry, then hangs up. Sitting on the bed, knowing he needs sleep, Oliver wonders if he's actually going to get it.

He thinks about pulling some blankets onto the floor, about opening a window, but he's been home almost eight months now, he's had time to adjust, and he's just about drop-dead exhausted. The bed it is.


Oliver wakes quickly, to a sudden noise, and sits upright in bed almost instantaneously, ignoring the way the movement tugs at his injuries. His heart is pounding in the way that lets him know it's not just his awakening that has him panicking, he was probably in the midst of a nightmare when he woke, but he can't remember it now. He takes deep breaths and listens carefully for the noise that woke him.

The sounds come from the direction of Thea's bedroom. Her door opening, footsteps down the hall towards the stairs. Oliver throws the blankets off, pulls on a t-shirt, and follows her. It's probably nothing, he tells himself, but his paranoia means he can't quite believe it.

Of course, it isn't nothing, but it is just Roy. Oliver reaches the top of the main staircase just as Thea reaches the bottom, throwing herself into her boyfriend's arms. She's grinning so, so widely and Roy – red hoodie almost black and streaks of dirt on his face – is grinning just as strongly in return. It's pure relief, and Roy holds her strongly like he never wants to let her go.

Part of Oliver disapproves, the other part looks at Thea and can't help but be grateful. Silently he backs away and leaves Thea to her boyfriend. It's only just after ten in the morning, which means that he's barely gotten six hours of sleep. More than some nights, but probably not enough, given everything that has just happened. But now that Oliver's awake he can't go back to bed – there's too much to do.

For a little while longer though, Thea will remain his priority.

After hiding his bloody shirt and rebandaging his wounds as best he can, he slips down one of the back staircases and heads for the kitchen. He knows there's extra security around the mansion but he doesn't know if any of the regular staff will be showing up for their duties. Who wants to work for a woman that had been about to commit mass murder? Thankfully, Oliver gets a welcome surprise when he enters the large room (who needs three stoves?): Raisa.

He smiles slightly. "Доброе утро," he says warmly. "I didn't know if anyone would show."

"Ol-ee-ver," Raisa replies just as warmly. "I have known you and Thea since you were children. Where else would I be?"

Oliver can only grin in response. "I was going to prepare breakfast…"

Raisa chuckles, shooing him towards the much less formal table in the corner of the kitchen, as opposed to their dining room. "Sit, sit. Breakfast is almost ready."

But Oliver doesn't sit, not right away. "I'll get Thea." He pauses at one of the entrances to the kitchen. "Also, her boyfriend is here, he'll probably be hungry."

"Yes, I have met this Roy." Raisa's tone is both fond and warning, a reminder of how much she knows the both of them. Like Oliver, she too seems to have recognized Roy's good qualities but is reluctant to have Thea dating.

Oliver's grin stays on his face as he heads to the living room where Thea and Roy sit on the couch, talking. They're holding hands and, though Roy stands when he sees Oliver, he doesn't let go of Thea. Thea stands slower, still looking tired but also apprehensive about how Oliver will treat her boyfriend. This morning, at least, she has nothing to worry about.

"Raisa made breakfast," he says. "You're both invited."

"Oh thank god, I'm starving," Roy blurts out without thinking. He freezes, evidently realizing these are the first words he's spoken to Oliver.

But Thea laughs and Oliver grins slightly and Roy blushes sheepishly. The three of them head back to the kitchen for breakfast.


May 14, 2013:

Even though Diggle had said noon, Oliver makes it to the foundry by eleven. He'd had an enjoyable breakfast with Thea and Roy but the two of them had clearly wanted some time alone together and Oliver has things to do. He heads straight for the computer and pulls up all the latest news.

Superman had done as promised, and spoken to the people of the Glades, but he'd also done more than that. Now Oliver knows where Thea had gotten her information from as he watches a news reporter give Superman an impromptu interview. Superman describes how he knew about the crisis, then proceeds to share credit with both the Green Arrow and the SCPD.

Lance had said some throwaway comment about getting suspended the previous night (this morning?) but after Superman's own endorsement (even if he doesn't specifically name Lance), Oliver's not sure that the suspension is going to stick. News of his mother's arrest is also prominent but Oliver can't blame the reporters – they're calming people's fears, ensuring them that one of the people responsible for the disaster that could have been is no longer a problem.

Which means Oliver also can't blame them, or the SCPD, for already disseminating news about Malcolm Merlyn's death. He hopes that's not the way Tommy finds out, but he understands that people are afraid and no news on Merlyn, in this case, would have made people panic.

There were videos of Moira Queen's arrest, thanks to the many cameras in the room at the time, but they seem to have been taken down already. Instead Oliver reads the hastily written articles, searching for information that he'll confirm when he heads to the police station later. He wants to be prepared. The charge against her seems to be conspiracy to commit murder, which makes sense of course.

Reading the news, Oliver is torn. Part of him is hopeful that, given that her actions alerted Superman and helped save the Glades, she'll get off easy. The other part of him is disgusted at her participation in the Undertaking and angry about what she's done.

Putting his fraught emotions aside, Oliver shifts from news about Malcolm and his mother to news about the Glades. The death toll varies but the most consistent number Oliver can find is nine – nine people who died in the Glades last night.

One was a heart attack, potentially brought on by the stress of the situation, though Oliver doesn't know if he would attribute that to the Undertaking. Two are from a car accident, trying to flee the Glades. Two are recently released convicts, killed by police officers when, upon learning that they'd got out of Iron Heights only to be killed by an earthquake, had decided to go on a rampage. Three are less certain – they could be opportunistic muggings, or targeted attacks, or simply people caught up by the riots. It'll be difficult to determine if their deaths were accidental or not, but there's no doubt that they weren't natural deaths.

Only one person seems to have died as a direct result of the Undertaking, and the earth that shook beneath the Glades. His name hasn't been released but Oliver reads between the lines. It's speculated that he was homeless, and living almost directly above the device that actually activated. Though most of the Glades remains structurally intact, that portion had collapsed into the tunnel beneath it, killing the only person nearby.

It could have been far, far worse.

"And how long have you been here?"

Oliver glances at the time in the corner of the computer screen, then turns to face Diggle, who evidently picked up Felicity on his way in. "You're early."

"Please tell me you at least got some sleep."

"I got some sleep," Oliver says obediently. Diggle raises his eyebrows as Felicity rolls her eyes. "I got some sleep," Oliver repeats more sincerely. "You?"

Diggle winces in remembrance of pain, reaching up to press down on his injury. "I slept," he admits, "wouldn't say I slept well though."

"Well I didn't sleep well either," Felicity says, putting down her purse and shooing Oliver out of the computer chair. "I couldn't stop thinking about what would have happened if Superman hadn't shown up."

If Oliver's blaming himself for not knowing about the second device, then surely Felicity and Diggle are as well. He steps back and watches Felicity get comfortable with her computers.

"It's not your fault we didn't know about the second device."

Felicity glances up at him. "I was the one who had all the information about it, who figured out where it was initially stored – I could've, there could've been some clue–"

"Felicity." Oliver cuts her off. "It's wasn't your fault."

"Well it wasn't yours either," she replies strongly, glancing between the two of them. "Either of you."

Silence, for a brief moment. They all blame themselves for not doing better.

"What are we even doing here?" Felicity asks, sifting through the articles Oliver had been looking at.

She has a point there. They'd all just assumed they'd meet up the next day and regroup, continue their work – it is habit, and a comforting one at that, Oliver is startled to realize, but the Undertaking is over. Even Oliver can admit that he can't hit the streets right now, and with Diggle's injury as well, there's no way he's sending the man out in his place. He and Diggle exchange glances.

It feels right, to be here with them in the foundry, but Oliver needs to visit his mother, to try and talk to Tommy. There's nothing the Arrow needs to do, at the moment.

"Right, well shoo then." Felicity stands, waving them toward the exit. "Both of you need to heal and rest," she says strongly. "Come back in a week."

Oliver knows she would normally request they wait longer but Felicity's not a doctor and she's catching on to how stubborn he is. A week is about the end of his limit.

He and Diggle exchange amused glances this time, but they obediently make their way up the stairs and out of the basement.

"Where to next?" Diggle asks.

Oliver shoots him a questioning glance.

"Hey, I'm still your bodyguard."

"You're injured. I think that gives you a few days off. Be with your family Digg." While Oliver's attempts at dating haven't gone so well, Diggle's been trying things out with his ex-sister-in-law and, as far as Oliver knows, they're doing alright.

But Diggle shakes his head. "Nah man, they left town this morning – vacation. They don't live in the Glades but I thought it might be best if they got out of Star City for a while."

Oliver doesn't blame them, but he still glances over at Diggle as they exit Verdant onto the street. "You could have gone with them."

Digg shrugs.

It says that he knows he could have, that he thought about it, but that he'd decided to stay. Oliver feels… gratified… by Diggle's decision. It's another emotion he's realizing he's going to have to get used to, working with Diggle and Felicity.

He considers Digg's original question – should he try and visit his mother now, or Tommy? His mother's going to be in prison for a while, at the very least until the trial, even if she gets off. Tommy only gets one moment to learn the truth about his father's death. The earlier the better.

"Laurel's," he says, opening his own door (still the backseat though) as they reach the car. "Tommy should be there."

Diggle nods solemnly, then slips into the car after Oliver. The car ride is silent, which Oliver appreciates. He's going through words and scenarios in his head, picturing how things are going to go. Worst case scenario: Tommy hates him and outs his identity to the world. Best case scenario: … Oliver doesn't know. Tommy stays his friend? How could he, after what Oliver had done? Tommy keeps his secret? Is that really the best he can hope for?

Diggle parks on the street outside Laurel's apartment building and the two of them sit in silence for a moment longer. "I'll wait here," Diggle finally says.

Oliver nods, hesitates a moment more, then opens his door and slips out. There are reporters camped out at the front, held off by the SCPD (word must have gotten out that Tommy Merlyn was living here, and Lance must have decided that his daughter and her boyfriend needed protection) so Diggle had parked around back, enabling Oliver to slip in without anyone noticing.

He doesn't pause again until he reaches Laurel's door, remembers all the times he'd stopped in to see her after he'd returned. He still loves her, and she loves Tommy. But this visit isn't about her. He hesitates, then knocks.

There are footsteps, lighter than Tommy's so they must be Laurel's, then a pause. No doubt she's checking to see if he's a reporter that somehow managed to slip through. She opens the door with a relieved expression.

"Ollie," she says, smiling, if a bit sadly. "I thought about calling yesterday but it was late and I didn't want to disturb you or Thea…"

There's a question in her statement. "Thea's fine too," Oliver tells her. "I got hit by a little bit of debris at Verdant, but nothing to call the doctor about." Oliver's great at managing his pain, but it's a good excuse for any accidental winces he might let slip. Just another lie.

Laurel opens the door wider. "Well come on in, Tommy and I had just ordered lunch. We're trying to sort through all the files I grabbed from CNRI, trying to make sure we put everything back in its place."

Oliver doesn't move. "Actually, I came to talk to Tommy. Alone."

Laurel only smiles sadly again. "That seems to be the theme these days, doesn't it?"

He offers up his own apologetic smile, aware of how false the expression feels on his face even if Laurel isn't. There's not much to smile about, at the moment.

"Look, Ollie," she says, lowering her voice. "I don't know if you heard but Tommy's dad…"

"I heard," Oliver replies softly before she can finish.

Laurel studies his expression for a moment, then nods. "I'll go get him." She disappears back into the apartment.

She must have told Tommy who was at the door, because he approaches with a blank, stony expression on his face. His eyes are a little red around the edges, but Oliver can't tell if that's from lack of sleep or crying.

"What do you want?" Tommy's voice is blank and emotionless – not even full of the hatred Oliver had been expecting.

"To tell you what happened," Oliver offers, "if you want to hear it."

Tommy wavers, as if he hadn't been expecting Oliver to offer a chance to turn him down.

He could have done it anyway, Oliver thinks, but he hopes it's different if he offers Tommy the chance.

"Alright," Tommy steps forward, closing the door behind him, and Oliver moves to let him into the hallway. "Maybe you can explain why you murdered my father after you stopped killing everyone else."

There's the harshness Oliver had been expecting. He doesn't let himself react outwardly, instead beginning a slow walk down the hallway. Tommy trails behind him.

"Maybe somewhere with less ears," is all he says, pressing the up button on the elevator. They step into it together as it opens and Oliver hits the top floor. "Like the roof."

Tommy looks unimpressed. "You're not Oliver," he says, jabbing a finger into Oliver's chest, "because my best friend isn't nearly as paranoid as you and he actually smiles and laughs and relaxes once in a while. My best friend is fun, and maybe a bit of a douche, but he has a good heart." Tommy's voice starts to choke up and Oliver can see unshed tears in his eyes. "My best friend doesn't dress up in leather and put arrows in people. My best friend wouldn't murder my own father!"

Throughout Tommy's rant Oliver remains stoic and silent. He knows perfectly well he's not the Oliver Queen who left on the Queen's Gambit and Tommy's known it too, ever since he'd found out about the Arrow. Still, it's not something one easily absorbs. (It still hurts, almost makes Oliver wish he'd never gotten on that boat. But if he'd never gotten on that boat no one would have stopped the Undertaking. Thousands would be dead, his mother would never have tried to back out, and Malcolm would have been free to enact his plan of remaking the Glades in his image. Tommy's pain isn't enough to make Oliver regret his actions. More than enough to blame himself, sure, to wonder all the ways he could have handled Malcolm differently, but not enough to regret who he's become.)

The elevator opens onto the top floor and Oliver makes his way to the roof access without a word. After a moment's pause, a deep breath, Tommy follows after him. By the time they climb the stairs to the roof, Tommy's deflated somewhat. His expression is still furious, his eyes still wet with unshed tears, but he's not attacking Oliver like before.

Unable to meet his friend's gaze, Oliver looks over the city he just helped saved, stares at the Glades, not too far away. The May breeze is cooling, but the weather pleasant. There are few clouds in the sky and the sun shines brightly overhead. Oliver, as always, can't help but compare the stale city air to that of Lian Yu. "Your father wasn't who either of us thought he was," he says simply. Sure, Tommy had helped them out after Oliver had returned from being kidnapped by Malcolm, but had anybody ever told Tommy what had happened? Oliver hadn't, there'd been no time, and no need to burden his friend by telling him about the chains that had been so recently around his wrists.

"Duh," Tommy spits out, scornfully. "I think I got that message when I found out he wanted to level the Glades."

Oliver shakes his head. "No, there's more."

"More than my father being a wannabe-mass-murderer?"

"Do you remember the dark archer?" Oliver finally turns to look Tommy in the face. "Around Christmas time?"

Tommy raises an eyebrow, confused by the change in conversation. His brow furrows. "With the hostages? Yeah – the Green Arrow–" he freezes. "You were in that motorcycle accident."

Oliver nods. "Your father was the dark archer. He almost beat me again this time – I couldn't let him detonate the device." He needs Tommy to understand – Malcolm hadn't just been a businessman he'd decided to put an arrow in, he'd been a ruthless killer that Oliver had barely beaten.

Tommy takes a step back, staring at Oliver in shock. He shakes his head in denial. "My father…?"

"Wherever Malcolm went those two years he was away, whoever he went to, they taught him how to fight," Oliver says firmly. He can't let Tommy deny the truth of what happened, as much as he wants to spare him from it.

Tommy only seems capable of staring at Oliver in shock.

"There's a reason he moved up the timetable to last night," Oliver continues. "I went to… to threaten him yesterday. He caught me by surprise and beat me again." Oliver doesn't mention being stripped bare and strung up, doesn't tell Tommy about his father stalking about him, bragging about his plan. "It was after I escaped that he called my mother to let her know that the Undertaking would be that night."

Still Tommy stares. That's fine – Oliver will wait as long as Tommy needs him to.

Around and below them, cars whizz by in the busy city. Oliver can hear the reporters at the building's front from up here, chattering amongst themselves as they wait for Tommy to emerge – since they can't come in themselves. The sun disappears behind a small cloud for a moment, then peaks out again.

Tommy shakes his head in disbelief. "He wasn't just a wannabe-mass-murder," he says weakly. His anger seems to have deflated entirely, all his energy gone at the news. "He's – was – a murderer."

Oliver doesn't react, gives Tommy time to process his own thoughts.

Finally, Tommy glances over at Oliver and meets his gaze. "If you hadn't… He would have killed you."

Oliver remembers Malcolm's arm around his throat, the older man bragging about how Thea and his mother would soon join him in death. The pain in his shoulder is hot and throbbing – he'd patched himself up better than his initial bandaging, but it'll be a while before he can move his left arm without the reminder of how he'd killed Malcolm.

Tommy's statement isn't a question, so Oliver doesn't bother to reply, but Tommy reads the answer in his face. He takes a step back, shakes his head again.

"I… I need…" He doesn't seem to know what to say.

Oliver understands. He nods. "You can have as long as you need." He pauses a moment longer, evaluates whether or not he thinks Tommy will be okay, then leaves.

He doesn't stop by Laurel's apartment on the way down, simply slips out the back and makes his way to Diggle. True to his word, the bodyguard hasn't moved. Oliver sits in the backseat again and Diggle allows him a moment before he speaks.

"Police station?" he asks, though it's clear he already knows the answer.

Meeting Diggle's gaze in the rearview mirror, Oliver nods.


Diggle comes with him into the police station and stands silently by his side, playing his bodyguard rather than his friend. He's there as Oliver discusses his mother's case and speaks with her lawyer, but Oliver asks to be alone when he visits his mother and Diggle – after holding his gaze for a moment – nods and waits outside.

Moira Queen straightens when Oliver enters, relief clear on her face. "Oliver," she breathes out, leaning forward across the table. "No one would tell me what had happened… Thea?"

"She's fine," Oliver says, carefully taking the seat across from his mother. "Superman and the Green Arrow were able to stop the earthquake devices from detonating."

Moira shakes her head desperately, even as she grins. She looks so, so relieved and, despite what this woman has done, Oliver can't forget that this is his mother. This is Thea's mother.

"Thea, she… she left," Moira continues shakily. "Her friend, in the Glades…"

"Roy," Oliver clarifies. "He's fine too. He made sure Thea made it back safely."

"Oh, thank god," Moira says, deflating considerably.

She looks nothing like the refined and proper woman that Oliver's always known her to be. She's wearing the same clothes as yesterday and she looks haggard, like she's made herself sick with worry. She'd claimed to have participated in the Undertaking to protect them but, in the end, both Oliver and Thea had been in the Glades and could have easily lost their lives. Oliver thinks she finally understands that.

"I talked to your lawyer," he starts.

Moira waves him off, straightening in her seat and smoothing out her blouse. She already looks better, now that she knows her children are safe. She was still willing to go along with the murder of thousands of people.

"Oliver no," she says. "My lawyer can handle my case. You worry about you and Thea."

But Oliver doesn't know what to say to her, if they're not talking logistics. He can understand her motivations but he can't excuse them. But she's his mother, and it had been his father who'd gotten her into the Undertaking. And it had been Malcolm's idea alone. What can he say to her?

Still stiff, he nods, then stands. "Alright then. I'll… I'll visit you later." He looks to the camera, signaling his intent to leave.

"Oliver…" but Moira doesn't protest, or stand herself. She just watches him leave sadly, alone.


After talking with his mother, Oliver himself needs some alone time. He gives Diggle the rest of the day off and heads for his secondary base. It hasn't even been twenty-four hours, and his shoulder still aches, but Oliver wants to pick up a bow and fire at his targets until there's nothing else in his mind. Instead he heads Felicity's warning and actually gives his body a rest for once. He puts his back against one of the columns in the middle of the room, sinks to the floor, and wonders where they go from here.


May 15, 2013:

Not Today by Clark Kent

A hero exists inside each one of us. They emerge in the small moments: when we hug a friend that's having a bad day, cook a favorite meal for a spouse that's having a bad week, or pay the fare for a frazzled stranger on the bus.

Heroes exist among us too: the police officer who patrols our block, the teenager who just finished their first lifeguarding class, the nurse who works full shifts and goes home to take care of their family.

These kinds of heroes are known as everyday heroes – the kind of people who make a decision each and every day to stand up to injustice and help those who need it. Each of us has the potential inside us to be one of them. Each of us has been one of them, at one moment or another, even if we never realized it at the time.

There are other kinds of heroes too: the ones who put on capes and costumes, who stand between victims and perpetrators without any chance or recognition or reward. I'd argue that they're the same as us. That, each day, they stand up and say: Not today.

Earlier this week, a terrorist tried to destroy an entire portion of Star City, California – located on the western coast of the United States – using manmade earthquakes devices placed at strategic locations underground. Four people, four individuals, have largely been credited with stopping him.

The first, and perhaps most well-known, is Superman. Appearing in the nick of time, Superman found the second device just after it activated, stopping it from causing more damage than it did. Superman is known as Metropolis' hero, but he's also known for traveling the world to wherever needs his help. He doesn't discriminate by border. If there's a cry for help in the world, it's said that Superman can hear it, and he certainly answered the cries in Star City. Every day he listens and stands up and says: Not today.

But Superman's contribution would not have happened if not for the efforts of one of the other individuals credited with saving Star City. Moira Queen, one of the conspirators, had already lost her husband to Malcolm Merlyn's machinations. She was afraid for her children. Yet she revealed the conspiracy despite her fears, saving hundreds if not thousands of lives by alerting people to evacuate – and giving Superman a chance to learn of the disaster to come early. She looked at her actions and decided: Not anymore. Not today.

Still, while Moira Queen and Superman unknowingly worked together to stop one of the earthquake devices, known as Markov devices, there was another pair who teamed up to stop the first. A detective in Star City's police department, who has so far remained anonymous, managed to locate and disable one of the devices. Their job is to stand up for the citizens of their city, to uphold the law. Every day they pick up their badge and gun and say: Not today. Not in my city.

The fourth individual is the one who led the detective to the device, who fought with Malcolm Merlyn to ensure that neither of the devices was detonated early. Star City's own Green Arrow. His actions remain controversial, but there's no denying that, without his efforts, hundreds could have been killed. There's no denying that he chooses each day to put on a hood and help what he has claimed as his city.

Each one of these people has chosen to take their stand, to draw a line and say: I will not let this happen. Not today, not on my watch. Each of us has the capacity to do the same. The attack was stopped in time by people some would call heroes. But a hero exists in each one of us, and there are still people like Malcolm Merlyn in the world.

Help your neighbor. Be kind. Be a hero. Stand up for what's right and decide: Not today.


May 16, 2013, evening:

Despite Felicity's week-long ban on entering the field, it feels weird not to be hanging out, just the three of them. They meet up Thursday evening, after Felicity gets done with work, and head for Big Belly Burger. Carly's still out of town, but they get their usual booth and make small talk about the city as they order their food.

"Did you guys see the special edition of the Daily Planet?" Diggle asks as they get their food. "They're calling Malcolm a terrorist."

Oliver nods. "I read it." Most of the shortened weekday edition had been about the events in Star City – the Green Arrow and Superman against Malcolm Merlyn and man-made earthquakes, but he'd also looked at the other articles. There had been one which had been stylized as a debate, arguing about Malcolm's death and whether or not the Green Arrow had been justified in killing him. Another about the relief efforts and charitable donations happening in the Undertaking's wake, despite that it had been stopped. One article had talked about the history of the Glades, and how the Undertaking wouldn't have gotten nearly as far as it had if Star City had actually noticed or cared about the people who live there. (Of course, none of the articles actually called it the Undertaking). Yet another had just been a small puff piece about the four people who'd helped stop the Undertaking (at least, the four people the world knew about) and what it meant to be a hero.

"I saw a CatCo magazine that talked about the Green Arrow too," Felicity chimes in. She turns and pulls it out of her purse on the bench beside her.

"That seems to be all the country is talking about," Diggle comments dryly. Of course, the Star City Register had discussed it as well.

Oliver pictures the title of the debate article about him in the Daily Planet: Green Arrow – Hero or Murderer? Personally, he doesn't know if he'll ever believe the answer is the first, but he still hopes it's not the second. He is trying to do better.

Felicity reaches over the table and hands him the magazine. Oliver flips through it, skimming the titles: Ten Tips to Eat Healthier and Lose Weight; Boy Wonder: The first exclusive interview with the new heir to the Wayne fortune; National City's Tenth Annual Fashion Show; A Day in the Life of the First Gentleman. He pauses at the next article: Society's Superheroes.

Below the title is a large picture of him that fills half the page. It's mostly a silhouette, his face turned away and only the hood visible, but it is a genuine picture, not an artist's rendering, even if it's dark and shrouded in shadow.

"It's mostly about costumes but," Felicity shrugs, "I thought it was interesting."

Oliver skims through it. There's talk about him, sure, and Superman, but there's much more than that. The first two pages are on the Green Arrow, though half of the first page is his image. The third page covers Superman, a full profile running in a narrow column from top to bottom alongside the actual words. Next comes an entire two-page section on the Justice Society of America, a group that functioned during World War II and after, until they'd fizzled out sometime in the early eighties. There are smaller pictures of their uniforms interspersed between the paragraphs.

The next two pages talk about Batman, the elusive hero of Gotham City – if he even exists. There are no pictures of him, just several artist renderings of dark costumes with black capes and pointed ears. The final page doesn't have any pictures and, as far as Oliver can tell from simply skimming it, talks about rumors of other modern or more recent heroes (and what they might be wearing – a solid gold helmet; a black suit, with neon blue and yellow lightning…).

He glances up from the magazine to look at Felicity. "I'll check it out," he promises, handing the magazine to Diggle so he can look through it. "What is Star City saying though?"

Felicity shrugs as Diggle flips through the CatCo magazine. "People are paying more attention to the Glades now, but to be honest not much has changed. More charitable donations, sure, and the police presence is higher but–"

"But that won't make the people of the Glades feel better," Diggle finishes for her, setting down the magazine.

"They're just going to be more resentful – like the city doesn't trust them," Oliver agrees.

Felicity levels a stern look at him. "Ah ah," she says quickly. "I said a week and I'm not backing down on that."

Oliver feels like he would be a bit too similar to a petulant kid who can't get what he wants if he complains in any way (a bit too similar to his old self). "The city needs someone," he says instead.

She leans over the table and pokes him slightly in the shoulder, eliciting a wince from him. "And what can the Green Arrow do besides stop crime as it happens?" she asks skeptically. "Maybe it's time Oliver Queen helped out."

"I don't think the people of the Glades want anything to do with the Queen family at the moment," Oliver says.

"I hate to agree but I don't think they want Oliver's help," Diggle chimes in reluctantly.

Felicity rolls her eyes. "You people have no idea what I'm talking about do you? I'm talking food drives, city clean-up, a place to sleep for people whose houses got broken into or cracked in the tremors. People are scared and desperate. Sure, there's a lot more crime now that the Green Arrow could help stop, but the people need help in other ways too."

Oliver and Diggle exchange glances. Oliver had come back to be the Arrow and now he's staying the Arrow to fight the crime in Star City, but Felicity's right – Oliver Queen had returned home too, maybe it's time he steps up.

"Related to that," he says, "I need to figure out what to do about Queen Consolidated. The company's image…" Well, he doesn't need to say anything more than that.

Diggle understands where he's going. "So a company sponsored fundraiser, or food drive?" he suggests. "But Oliver, with your mother out of the picture someone's going to need to step up and run Queen Consolidated."

Oliver shakes his head. "Don't look at me, I still know nothing about running a business."

"But they already are looking to you," Felicity says. "Well, some of them. There's been talk at the company, at least. Talks about being bought out too, but if you – or someone else – can, well, fix things relatively soon…"

"Then maybe we can recover some of the fallen stock price," Oliver agrees. "I was thinking about talking to Walter – he knows the board best."

Felicity nods and starts to give her inside scoop on the situation at Queen Consolidated. As they finish their food they discuss business and financials – who should run the company and how best to approach the board. Oliver doesn't want to lose his family's company, but he doesn't want to run it either. He's got things to do as the Arrow and, apparently, Oliver Queen.

Twenty minutes later, their plates empty, Oliver's phone interrupts the conversation as it rings. He pulls it out of his pocket and glances at the display. Laurel.

"I gotta take this," he tells his two friends as he answers the phone.

"Laurel. How's CNRI?"

"Everything's fine, I actually called you to talk about Tommy," Laurel says, wasting no time on greetings.

"Is everything alright?" Oliver asks. (Diggle and Felicity look a bit concerned so Oliver mouths Tommy at them while Laurel responds).

"Sort of. I mean, ever since you talked to him I think he's doing better but he still won't leave the apartment."

"It's only been a couple days Laurel," Oliver says gently. He hesitates. "Thea still refuses to talk about our mom."

"I know, I just, wanted to make sure you still wanted to go to that Rockets game on the twenty-fifth. I think we could both use the break."

In all the chaos, Oliver'd completely forgotten about that, but he still has the tickets. "The twenty-fifth?" he repeats, realization dawning on Felicity's and Diggle's faces. "Yeah, we're still good for then." He pauses, thinking back to the conversation he'd just had. "Actually, a friend had an idea that might get Tommy out of the house before then. How do you feel about hosting a free dinner in Verdant for the Glades?"


AN: Four things:

1. I have to offer an apology - for some reason I had the date listed as the 15th on the first section of this chapter, when it should have been the 13th, so you should have gotten this two days ago... Hopefully the length more than makes up for the wait!
2. Chapter 11: Pushing Forward, will be posted May 18th. I might not have internet for a good portion of the day though, so it might not be until late.
3. I am not, and never have been, a journalist in any way shape or form. I do not know how to write news articles. I assure you, Clark Kent's writing is usually much better than I can portray. Sorry about that.
4. I have started a sequel to this work, and, as of right now, still plan to continue this for as long as I can (we'll see how that works out). We have firmly moved into AU territory, so most of the scenes I'm writing so far are no longer just edited versions of canon. Hopefully I can continue being interesting. (Also, there are still some canon plots that aren't affected by the changes I've made, so I hope to incorporate those as well.)

Thanks for reading!