Tell Me That You're Alright.
(Author's Note: Discussions of Abuse.)
Detective Quentin Lance knew what people thought of him. If he was being honest, he had managed to cultivate a persona that directly played into that perception. He hemmed and hawed, made himself appear drunker than he ought to be, and generally gave off the notion that his IQ was lower than it actually was.
And it worked, usually. When faced with a person they didn't think was on the ball, or just wanted to get things over with, criminals slipped up. They gave information they wouldn't have, or let slip things they thought he wouldn't notice.
But now? Now, he knew something was going on. His daughter was lying to him. On some things, he didn't mind. He noticed she had put on more muscle and gotten leaner. But that didn't bother him. Lord knows he had let himself go seriously. And honestly, if that was all it had been, he might have even asked her for the workout regimen she had picked up.
But he saw scars and bruises on her. More so, broken bones. She had splinted fingers, a broken hand, and more black and blue marks than she knew what to do with. That couldn't be normal.
And so, even though he knew how much he hated bringing being a detective home with him, he couldn't help himself. He analyzed everything that had changed in her life over the past few months. Then, with a chill in his blood, he figured out the difference.
Oliver Queen had returned. He had NEVER, not once, liked that spoiled little brat. And it only got worse when he returned from that island that was probably a little vacation where he just lifted weights and drank coconut water while his daughter lay dead at the bottom of the ocean.
So, even though he hoped he was wrong, Quentin Lance drove over to where he knew Laurel lived to ask her if she was ok. He had spent a lifetime learning how to read people, to see something they couldn't admit to themselves.
He didn't want to believe it could POSSIBLY be true, but if it was, he knew he'd have to save his daughter from herself.
Meanwhile, at Oliver Queen's Penthouse….
Laurel Lance noticed, not for the first time, the differences between her old life and this one. Sure, she still had all of her law books. Those weren't going anywhere, after all. Working for CNRI meant she knew a lot about the worst of the worst. It gave her an intelligence source she needed if she was going to be the heroic figure Oliver saw her as. Besides, she loved the feeling of standing in a courtroom and watching someone realize that she had pulled their well-laid plans apart one thread at a time. She didn't honestly ever want to give that up.
But there were new books, new tomes of learning, that drew her attention equally. She had discovered multiple books on every form of martial arts that existed. Honestly, it was almost like cheating. She had spent so long training her mind to retain information about terribly complicated legal statutes that what she learned on her off time for her "night job" was easy. So, she thought to herself, during the day she'd make sure people felt strength in the law. And at night, she'd pick up justice where the law couldn't reach.
And that brought her to Oliver Queen. It sometimes felt like she had been drawn to him by some force beyond her understanding. But whatever it was, she was happy they were together. She felt like the best version of herself that she could be around him, and it was also nice to know that she was around someone who GOT IT.
Oliver knew what it was like to patrol the city at night, to know the difference between some scared kid looking to steal enough money for a warm meal and a career criminal who reveled in fear. He got what it meant to want to save people, to walk a scared child through a rough neighborhood or show an awestruck teenager that being tough meant also being kind.
Lord knows her father didn't want to even try. Ever since Oliver had gotten on that boat, Quentin had died too. The man of superlative honor she had believed him to be was gone. In its place was someone bitter, broken, and drunk. She hoped, with whatever heart she could, that he would remember who he was. Because right now, at this moment, she couldn't.
So, as she prepped her gym bag for her evening session at Starlight CrossFit with her coach Min Jiang as they got her both stronger and more agile, she opened the door and saw her dad standing in the doorway looking at her with shame in his eyes. But not, as she figured, shame at her. At least not completely.
"Laurel, baby, are you heading out in the next little while?" he begged, looking smaller and sadder than she could ever remember him being. Something had happened, she was sure of it. And whatever it was, he had remembered enough of their old connection to be interested in reconnecting.
"Of course, daddy. I always have time for you. What's the problem?" Laurel said, her heart beginning to sink as her mind instantly whirred through every dark possibility.
"I've been very good to not complain about Oliver Queen. I know he's come back, but I've NEVER liked him. Not once, and whatever he's been doing to you is the reason why" Quentin said, anger burning in his voice at the mere mention of that little shit's name.
"WHAT? Do you think he's hitting me, dad?" Laurel fumed, and at that exact moment, the nitroglycerine this fire really didn't need entered the room.
(Oliver's POV)
Oliver Jonas Queen understood fear. He had lived underneath its oppressive boot for 5 years on the island. He knew what it could do.
And, now that he was back in his old life, he was planning to use all he could remember about fear to inflict it only on those who deserved it. Those who used their money to abuse people, to make them bear a weight no one should be expected to carry, deserved his full attention. But the hard-working people of Starling City? He would never be the thing they feared. He wanted to be the person they went to, both in his daytime life and his nighttime one.
So, as he walked back into his penthouse with all the ingredients for sesame noodles and chicken curry, he was smiling. The love of his life, the one person whose presence ensured he didn't lose all the light he had left, was waiting for him. Sure, she had to go to work out soon but he could spend time with her and make sure she had a high-quality dinner when she got home.
But as he opened the door, he heard a sound he had been the cause of before. Laurel yelling and sobbing in equal measure.
(Laurel's POV)
HOW COULD HE? Her father couldn't possibly think Oliver had been abusive. Even at his flighty and arrogant worst, he had never hit her.
Logically, in a voice that was being drowned out by the thunderstorm of anger in her head, she knew where this was coming from. She had broken her hand punching someone, and if you didn't know what you were looking for, you'd imagine it was something an abusive boyfriend might do. Funny thing, though. That broken hand was punching out an abusive boyfriend who the cops couldn't get put behind bars.
"DAD! Oliver has never laid an angry hand on me, before that island or after. And especially after" Laurel says, her eyes welling up with tears as she sees Oliver Queen standing shocked and saddened in her doorway. In that moment, in exactly that moment, she knows what she needs to do.
"Oliver Queen is the only man I can ever love. EVER. If I ever want children, he would be an excellent father. I know him in my soul, in my bones, and that man is perfect for me. Has been since the first day I met him when we were 8 years old. I don't know what more he needs to do to show you that he's the man I've always known him to be. But he is, and it's why I love him" said Laurel, her eyes stinging with tears as she realized she had never told Oliver any of this until right now.
Worse still, she realized with an ache in her heart that was stronger than any broken bone, there was the real possibility that no one had told him any of this for far too long.
(Quentin's POV)
Wait. He was wrong? Oliver Queen never hit her? Then how…. OH SHIT.
"You're the Black Canary aren't you? And he's the Green Arrow?"
(Laurel and Oliver's POV)
OH SHIT. He figured it out. They supposed he was going to before they told anyone. But what was he going to do now? Was he going to bring them in, put them in jail?
That was their darkest fear. Even in their rookie year as a partnership, they had made more enemies than they knew what to do with. Rich people, even behind the bars of federal prisons, had influence and could use it like a sledgehammer.
(Quentin's POV)
There was only one thing to do. Honestly, only one thing was right.
He made a phone call.
"Frank? Yeah, it's Quentin. Bring me all the paperwork over for a confidential informant. Yeah, highest secrecy" he said, a thin smile on his face as he did not enjoy doing this but knew he had to.
"Now look, the two of you are confidential informants. Highest security. The supreme court of the state can't make you reveal your identity. Now, this means that when you find out something, you bring it to me. Just me. Do we have an agreement?"
(Oliver and Laurel's POV)
Well, yes they did. Keep the cops off of their back in exchange for leaving criminals tied up and waiting for the police? That could work.
They shook hands on it, and that was good enough. And with that, Quentin left.
"I don't need to know EVERYTHING you do. Just, if you need some help, let me know."
So, with that taken care of, they had another problem.
"This Dark Archer. He kicked my ass, and he kicked your ass, like it was no problem. We have to figure out who it is, and we have to stop whatever his plans are. Because if we can't, if we can't save our city from a monster like that, what are we doing?" said Laurel, desperation in her voice.
"We'll figure it out, Pretty Bird. We always do" said Oliver, hope in his voice as much to make sure that the love of his life never loses her faith in their partnership as anything else.
"But, Ollie, we can't do this alone. We need help" says Laurel, her momentary crisis of confidence having reformulated into needing something to DO.
And so, as night fell on Starling City, the Green Arrow and the Black Canary planned. They strategized. And they got ready.
Meanwhile, at Malcolm Merlyn's Mansion…..
Darkness crept in, under the floorboards and into every nook, cranny, and crevice. It had been here since Rebecca Merlyn had died, and those who knew the family before and after argued that it never truly left.
And right now, in the drawing room, the two people who had been the most warped by that darkness talked about their days over cognac.
"Do you think they have any idea of what's happening to them?" said Tommy Merlyn, his blue eyes cold and foreboding.
"Not a hint of it. And if they do ever figure it out, if they do ever put it all together, watching their heartbreak and betrayal will be worth it" said Sara Lance, relaxing with panther-like grace in her sitting chair.
Yes, the darkness was here and it was never leaving.