A/N: I'm gonna see if working on one story per day instead of working on every story every time I get a creative jolt is a better way of handling things.

Oliver had returned to the loft with his Russian compatriots. He dug the bottle of vodka Anatoli had given him out of the freezer and poured four glasses of it. The four men picked up their glasses and raised them. "Prochnost," Anatoli said, the four men clinking glasses and drinking. "Ah, much better," Anatoli said. "Dealing with brothers like Leonov is always struggle. Have had to deal with others who resist change."

"Speaking of, I'm not sure how much I'll be able to manage things here," Oliver told his friend. "Between my work at Queen Consolidated and my night-time activities, I don't have a lot of time to handle the business of running the Bratva's activities here in Starling. I can handle things in the short-term, but long-term you might want to groom someone who can take over."

"You must make time, Oliver," Anatoli said heavily. "It pains me to force this upon you, knowing that you have much you already must carry. But only you will know what is best for Bratva in Starling City. This will let you make sure certain activities are not brought back."

Oliver sighed and nodded slowly. "I'll find the time," he said quietly. In truth, he had a feeling one way or another he would end up being C.E.O. of Queen Consolidated by January, whether Walter was kidnapped or not. The man had ducked away from Queen Consolidated and his marriage with Moira as soon as he could after he had been rescued in the previous timeline, but the catalyst for all of that had been Moira's involvement with the Undertaking. If Oliver exposed Merlyn at Christmas, and the plot to bring down the Glades at the same time, then it was likely Walter would leave.

If things went the same as last time, Walter would end up kidnapped, and Oliver had already positioned himself to take control of the company if need be. Once he was C.E.O., most of his duties could be delegated to the other officers of the company. He knew this from when his father had been C.E.O.; it was why he had been blindsided by the way the board had practically fawned over Rochev when she was co-C.E.O. Which reminded him; he would need to deal with that little problem before it could become one by making sure he held the majority shares. It would take some work, and quite a bit of blackmail which Russian muscle just might come in handy with, but it could be done long before Rochev became an issue.

Anatoli, unaware of the thoughts swirling through his friend's head, nodded, pleased that Oliver was not fighting him on this. "You are making right decision, Oliver," he told his friend. "But my work here is done. I cannot leave Moscow for long. There are still those who wish for return to days under Gregor. Knowing that I have you in my corner again will make them think twice."

"Then I'm glad I can be of some help despite not being in Moscow," Oliver said, raising his glass again. "To a better future."

"Da," Anatoli said, and the four clinked their glasses together. "Before I leave, though, I have warning: I read up on major players in Starling on plane. Was surprised to come across name I know. Malcolm Merlyn."

"How do you know Malcolm?" Oliver asked in surprise.

"Met him, in Kovar's office," Anatoli replied. "Was Merlyn who supplied Kovar with information on Sarin gas. Also learned that he aided Kovar after you supposedly killed him. Been hunting Kovar ever since."

"That is… unexpected news," Oliver admitted. "I knew Merlyn was twisted and he has a horrifying plan for the Glades here in Starling… but I didn't realize he was also involved in international terrorism. That makes my decision to go after him an easier one. And you don't need to worry about Kovar. He tracked me down on Lian Yu. Remember the sleeper hold that mimics death I showed you?" Anatoli nodded, a grim smile on his face as he realized what Oliver was about to say. "I'm sure Kovar found it a novel experience to be fully aware of everything around him as he slowly became starved and dehydrated. That's assuming the island's wildlife didn't help him along."

"Could not have happened to better man," Anatoli said. "Be very careful with Merlyn, Oliver. He is snake."

"And I'm a mongoose," Oliver dead-panned, earning a chuckle from Anatoli and his guards. Anatoli and his men left soon after, and Oliver returned the vodka to the freezer to keep it cold. He turned and found himself back on the platform in the middle of space, facing Novu. "What's happened?" Oliver asked, knowing that Novu wouldn't have brought him here just for a friendly chat.

"The Flash and the Legends have been taking note of the changes to the timeline," Novu said. "As you might have guessed, they guard their ability to change the timeline at their whim jealously, unwilling to believe others could have a better understanding of this terrible power. If the changes continue, which I assume they will as you seem intent on making things right that you failed to do before, they will seek to return the timeline to match their own as much as possible."

"I don't suppose I can just wait for them to come to me and reason with them?" Oliver asked, feeling his stomach curdling in dread. At Novu's shake of the head he knew he was right. "What is their plan?"

"They will not come to this time, Oliver," Novu replied. "Right now, they're not sure if someone is feeding you information about the future. Once they realize it is you who is changing things, they will go to the hospital while you sleep the night you returned to Starling and erase all of your memories, restoring the timeline to its, in their minds, proper order."

"So, what are my options, since I'm not about to sit here and let them wipe away everything I've done and plan to do?" Oliver asked.

"There are two," Novu replied. "In the first, you and I will confront them in the future when they prepare to journey back via the Waverider. I will give you the knowledge of all of the alternate timelines they've created to give you the chance to properly vent at what their actions have caused to happen to you. Then I will wipe them from existence."

Oliver grimaced. On the one hand, a chance to confront Barry and Sara about their actions was tempting, but Oliver didn't think he really had the right to do so when he was changing things to a greater degree, as even just those first few days where Laurel got kidnapped by Hunt and Gitter showed. He also had no desire to see his friends, regardless of how angry he was at them, wiped from existence by The Monitor. "What's the other option?" he asked quietly.

"The other option is to destroy that timeline in its entirety," Novu replied. "You are already on a path that will see the Legends and their original mission wiped from the timeline." Oliver raised a curious eyebrow, but Novu ignored it as he continued, "That leaves The Flash. There is only one way to destroy this timeline, Oliver. You must kill Eobard Thawne in this time, before he has regained his speed, and you must do so soon. Within the next twenty-four hours, in fact. The Flash and the Legends will not hesitate to act, and I fear they are quickly concluding that it is Oliver Queen that is changing the timeline and not someone else, such as Thawne or another Speedster. You must make your choice, quickly."

Oliver turned and looked out at the sea of stars twinkling all around him. This was yet another horrifying choice laid out before him, all because of time travel, and this time, there was no escaping a horrible outcome. Either way, his friends, his comrades-in-arms that he had fought aliens, Alternate Earth Nazis, the delusions of Deegan, and the beginning of the Crisis with would be wiped from existence. One choice left the future intact and gave him a chance to further mentor Barry, Sara, and every other hero from Earth-1 so that when those events began to play out, their foes faced a more confident (and competent) assembly of heroes; but that choice required him to confront his friends and comrades head-on and stand idly by as Mar-Novu wiped them from existence. Considering Novu's scorn for his friends' selfish antics, he doubted the man would make it a gentle erasure.

The other option would see the timeline he knew, the enemies he had knowledge of, wiped out completely. He would have no forewarning, no way to be certain things would play out as they had before, and he couldn't even be assured that those who had joined him in the ranks of vigilantes and heroes standing against the darkness would do so at the proper times. If he remembered right, the Crisis had originally taken place in 2024, and Barry had told him they had learned from Gideon and the Time Vault that he didn't originally become The Flash until 2020. But this option meant he wouldn't have to physically stand there and watch those he cared for be wiped from existence by the closest thing to a god that he had ever met (and successfully argued against). *1*

"If I kill Thawne," he said quietly, "does that mean the original timeline restored to a point? Barry not becoming The Flash until 2020, the Crisis not happening until 2024?"

"Yes," Novu replied. "Without Thawne's guidance, the scientists at work on the Particle Accelerator will have to go over the details manually and discover the errors Thawne had in place to ensure the creation of The Flash. As Thawne's replacement will be Hartley Rathaway, an anti-social genius who has little patience for the quirks of others, it will take many more years than necessary to fulfill the dream Harrison Wells and Tess Morgan envisioned in the original timeline."

"Which will also leave some of those who would have worked for Thawne or are currently working for him looking for new work," Oliver mused, his mind going to a certain Hispanic tech genius who had a love of upgrading the suits worn by heroes and a genius with degrees in bio-engineering and psychology. The former, at least, was doubtfully willing to work with Rathaway from what Barry had told him since it had taken a time travel screw-up by Barry to bring Hartley around. But the question still gnawed at him; did he want to give up his foreknowledge and face the unknown with only his bow and his grit? The memory of his last stand against the shadow demons flashed through his mind and he smiled grimly. He had already proven he could and would stand against the unknown with just that. "I know what I have to do," Oliver said quietly. "Send me back." Novu nodded, and a moment later, Oliver was back in his apartment, standing by the refrigerator. A chiming from his phone signaled he had received a new text from someone.

Checking the phone, Oliver scoffed, "Typical." The message was from John Diggle, confirming his decision to terminate his employment with Oliver due to irreconcilable differences. Oliver had guessed this would be the case, however, and prepared accordingly. He had purchased a Chevrolet Camaro, the newest model, with a dark green paint job and black racing stripe to drive around when he wasn't using his motorcycle, such as if he had an outing with Laurel or Thea.

He dismissed the menu, selecting his contacts list and scrolling down to Laurel's name. He selected it and hit the call icon before tapping the 'speakerphone' icon. The phone rang once, twice, then Laurel picked up. "Hey, Ollie," she said warmly, albeit distractedly.

"Hey, Laurel, I hate to do this to you, but I've got to leave town for a couple of days and take care of some business," Oliver told her. "In the meantime, I've got something you might want to look into."

"What?" Laurel asked, her voice all business, instinctively knowing this had to do with Oliver's activities and the ongoing battle against the wealthy and corrupt.

"Peter Declan is innocent and facing execution in a little over a week's time," Oliver said. "Go to him, find out his side of the story. We'll talk more once I get back. Oh, and I'll definitely be back in time for the auction. Do you need my help with getting a dress?"

"Considering I'll be mingling with cutthroats who judge you with how you act, dress, speak, and look? Probably," Laurel replied resignedly. "But don't get any ideas about completely changing my wardrobe, Oliver Queen. And if you even think the word fishnets…"

"Too late," Oliver replied with a grin, earning an exasperated groan. To be fair, that particular outfit had driven Oliver a bit mad and they had been rather late to Tommy's Halloween party, at which he had given the two of them a knowing look and lecherous smirk. "I promise, I won't be overhauling your wardrobe and I think we should keep the fishnets thing for special occasions."

"You have a dirty mind, Mr. Queen," Laurel informed him.

"Only when it comes to you, Miss Lance," Oliver replied. "I'll call you later, when I get to my destination. For now, I gotta pack."

"One thing before you go," Laurel said. "Is this about what we talked about this morning or Queen Consolidated business?"

"Neither," Oliver replied. "There's more than one corrupt businessman planning things that could have devastating consequences, Laurel. That's all I can say for now." He and Laurel said goodbye, and Walter re-opened his contacts list, this time selecting Walter's name. "Walter, I have to go out of town for a couple of days. I'll be back by the time we need to attend the auction."

"Can it wait?" Walter asked. "Your mother intended to ask you to one of her dinner parties this evening, a first foray into the social sphere before your big debut since your return, as it were."

"I'm afraid not," Oliver replied. "It's a bit of a time crunch, unfortunately. If this weren't so important, I would give it a pass and come to the party tonight."

"Oliver?" Walter's voice had been replaced by his mother's. "I distinctly recall how you were at these parties before. You need to be able to handle this with far more poise than you have in the past. I understand whatever this is seems very important to you, but I promise you, attending this dinner will be far more important in the long run than whatever it is your gallivanting off to do."

Oliver was silent for a moment. It wasn't like he could tell his mother that he needed to go to Central City and kill a madman from the 2100s who was posing as Dr. Harrison Wells because otherwise his friends from the future were going to erase his memory two weeks in the past and stop him from changing everything. His mother probably thought he was ducking away for a good romp in a motel bed somewhere, like he had in the past. His mother didn't understand yet; there was only one woman for him, the woman he had just been talking with, the woman he had always loved, the woman he had had to say goodbye to in a dream world thrust upon him by cruel aliens.

"Oliver?" Moira prompted again.

"I suppose I can push my departure off until after the party," Oliver finally said. "It means I might barely get back for the auction, though. Depends how long my business takes. But if I'm doing this, I'm bringing someone."

"Very well," Moira sighed. "Just make sure they're not one of those airheaded models you and Thomas so favored. He'll probably be bringing one himself since he and Malcolm are joining us tonight." There was a hint of strain to Moira's voice as she said Malcolm's name, barely noticeable unless you had been trained as Oliver had been.

"I assure you, my guest will be of unimpeachable character," Oliver said. "See you tonight, Mom." He hung up after his mother's distracted goodbye and began typing a quick text to Laurel. Change of plans. Mom's forcing me to attend a dinner party to help me acclimate to the social scene again. Merlyn will be there. Care to join me? You'll need to work on being in the same room with him a lot if we're going to make this work. He sent the text off and headed up to his bedroom, dragging a duffel bag out of the closet and beginning to pack a few days' worth of clothes into it.

His phone chimed, signaling a return text from Laurel. He picked his phone up and brought up the new message. I'll go with you. I have to practice it anyways, for the fundraiser you want to throw C.N.R.I. Better to have a couple of entries into the social scene that aren't the awkward, lovesick girl I used to be before that. Pick me up at 4 p.m. so we can go find an appropriate dress.

Oliver smiled. Tonight was going to be interesting to say the least. He returned to packing.

*DC*

Oliver's Camaro pulled up in front of the mansion's main entrance, and he got out, dressed in a finely-cut suit and tie. He handed the keys off the valet his mother and Walter had hired to park their guests' cars and walked around to the passenger's side, opening the door and offering his hand to the woman inside. Laurel's slender hand slipped into his rough warrior's hand and he guided her to her feet. She was clad in a sleeveless, black one-piece dress that swept down to her ankles, hiding the high heels she wore that gave her a few extra inches in height so as to not be completely dwarfed by Oliver, who she normally came up to the shoulder of and had to go up on her toes to give a kiss.

Her honey-blonde hair was pulled up in a business-like bun, exposing her slender neck and the eye-catching pearl necklace resting there. They were a part of a gift Oliver had given her two years before the Gambit, which she now knew coincided with his pregnancy scare. The other part of the gift she was also wearing tonight, a pair of tasteful diamond earrings. "I feel like such a fraud," Laurel whispered to him as he led her towards the mansion's front door. "This dress… the necklace, earrings… these people are going to know I don't belong, they'll know I'm just the daughter of a simple detective and the head of a non-profit legal aid office. Nowhere close to their league."

"You are wrong, Laurel," Oliver replied quietly. "You are so far out of their league. These people merely pretend to give a damn about the people when it's in their best interests to appear so. When they talk of what's best for Starling City, they really mean what's best for them and their bottom line. When they look at you, they see everything that they pretend to be. Never forget that." Oliver stopped, straightening and turning to look her in the eye. "Shall we, Miss Lance?"

"We shall, Mr. Queen," she said, lips quirking into a soft smile. It also helped her to know that most of the people she was about to have to deal with for an evening were likely to be visited by a certain Emerald Archer at some point. That would help her in keeping the appropriate polite smile mask in place. The real hardship would be playing nice with the senior Merlyn if he directed his attention her way. Knowing what she did now, about what the man had done to her personally and what he could do if he ever discovered she was aware of this fact would be the main things keeping her from reacting to him, but she knew it would be a close call. Hopefully, Merlyn would focus more on Oliver than her, seeing as Oliver was his godson.

Oliver and Laurel entered the mansion and found Walter, Moira, and Thea waiting. Thea's eyes widened at the sight of Laurel standing beside Oliver before a wide grin stretched across the girl's features and she rushed forward, greeting both of them with a hug. "Hey, Speedy," Laurel said with a smile. "It's been a long time. Sorry I haven't kept in touch."

"Hey, I understood," Thea said with a shrug. "I'm just glad you two could sort everything out." She turned her attention to Oliver. "Don't let her get away from you again, big bro. I don't think you'll survive losing her again."

"That's more true than you could possibly imagine, Thea," Oliver said softly, looking at Laurel, and everyone present could see the raw emotion in his blue eyes. Laurel blushed slightly and moved forward to greet Moira and Walter.

"It's good to see you again, Laurel," Moira said, ignoring the fact that she had been telling Oliver only in the last week that he should stay the hell away from Laurel if she was going to be getting involved with cases against dangerous people like China White.

"Miss Lance," Walter greeted with a nod. "Its nice to see that you're recovering from your ordeal."

"Which one?" Laurel asked with a raised eyebrow. "Hunt or Chien Na Wei?" Walter looked uncomfortable, and Laurel's expression softened. "I'm recovering from both, but I think I'd be a lot worse if I didn't have Oliver in my life. He's been a great friend."

"Well, I know a thing or two about surviving a hellish experience…" Oliver said simply, trailing off as he was reminded not only of his years away from Starling City, but the battles he had waged in the future for the fate of his city, battles that may not occur in this new timeline considering his path forward. Don't think about that now, Oliver told himself harshly. He needed to focus on getting through this dinner party without making a revealing comment to Merlyn or a scathing comment to Walter about the people he had helped Robert Queen cheat.

Oliver and Laurel were the last to arrive, and so the Queens and Laurel moved to enter the dining room. Tommy was looking in their direction with a blonde model and his eyes widened slightly at seeing them enter the room together before he shook his head with a rueful grin on his face, and rueful grin that both Oliver and Laurel realized in their own minds was probably hiding the hurt that he was feeling since neither of them had bothered to tell their best friend they were back together. The two exchanged a quick look to confirm with each other they would need to talk to him soon.

Dinner was well underway by the time the topic managed to roll around to the current hot topic in Starling City, the Green Arrow. This was a lot sooner than had happened in the previous timeline, in part because of how public the Green Arrow was; in comparison, the Hood had been a shadow, a myth that hardly anyone believed in. He had, Oliver realized, been like the Batman of Gotham until the Christmas confrontation with Merlyn's alter ego. Inevitably, the comparison of Green Arrow to Robin Hood came up and Commissioner Nudocerdo couldn't let that stand.

"The thing that people forget is that Robin Hood was a criminal," Nudocerdo said, conveniently ignoring the fact that the Sherriff of Nottingham and Prince John had been corrupt and wealthy and lorded over the people who had nothing, like those seated around the table did over the people of Starling City. Oliver and Laurel's hands were clasped below the table (they had finished their meals already) and both were trying their best not to imbibe too much alcohol.

"And stealing from the rich to give to the poor is really the job of the Democrats," one of the other guests said, earning good-natured chuckles and a tightening of their grips from Oliver and Laurel, the latter of which hid the thinning of her lips by taking a sip of champagne. Oliver didn't recognize him or his wife, which meant they must be 'new money' and looking to further ingratiate themselves with the power players of Starling City. He'd ask Felicity to look into them while he was gone, make sure that they weren't anyone who should've been on The List.

"All joking aside, Commissioner," Malcolm said, "crime is down for the first time in five years, and there can be no doubt as to the cause. The Green Arrow managed to take down the entire Triad in one night, and scuppered their last, desperate attempt to stay in power when they tried to kidnap Thea and her friends."

"Yes, the Green Arrow seems to have had a chilling effect on the city's criminals," Walter said idly, far more noncommittal in this setting than he had been in his soundbyte on this morning's segment on the Green Arrow. Oliver had managed to watch the segment on YouTube and found that the overall feeling from the city was one of acceptance, despite his slaying of James Holder. That was probably what had the commissioner in such an agitated state and why he had reacted as he did about the Robin Hood comparison; those same people who were accepting Green Arrow as their salvation from the hardships of the past five or more years were also painting Nudocerdo as a modern-day Sherriff of Nottingham. *2*

Malcolm was still smiling in amusement at how this topic seemed to be affecting the people around the table as he turned his gaze towards Oliver and Laurel, noticing both had slight, near-indiscernible smiles on their faces as they kept their gaze fixated on their plates or champagne flutes. Laurel, he understood, considering her apparent connection with the Green Arrow, a connection that he still needed to find the right way to exploit. But Oliver's smile was disconcerting; did he know something the others around the table did not? Or was he simply thinking good thoughts of the man who had saved Laurel's life twice now? Malcolm could certainly understand the latter, because he knew he would feel the same way if someone had saved his wife all those years ago the way Laurel had been saved. He decided to see if he could dig into his godson's mind. "What are your thoughts, Oliver?" he asked, knowing better than to ask Laurel Lance's opinion on the man who had championed her and those she, in turn, championed.

Oliver was conflicted at this request, even though he had half-expected it to come. Despite the fact this was 2012, he still had his 2019 mindset, and he had spent so long and fought so hard as Green Arrow that he couldn't simply set aside all of his accomplishments in either timeline. Moreover, the comment from the 'new money' fellow about it being the job of the Democrats to give to the poor was just begging to be answered, in part because Oliver hated how ineffectual he had been as Mayor of Star City. He had run as an Independent so as to not get bogged down by expectations either way, and as a result he had had to fight tooth and nail for everything he wanted to get done, and half the time it was never done to his satisfaction. That atrocious gun control bill, which was such in name only, was a prime example of that, in his opinion. It had boiled down to maintaining the status quo while the city council bickered back and forth.

So it wasn't Oliver Queen, broken survivor of five years in hell and secretive vigilante, who answered, but Oliver Queen, the hero who had led heroes from two Earths against countless threats (despite his attempts to foist the responsibility off on Barry during the Dominator crisis) and a one-time mayor of Star(ling) City. *3*

"I think that it is a judgment against our city that it takes the actions of a masked vigilante to bring about justice for those who have been victimized by this criminal elite that seems to have run rampant in the city," Oliver said, his voice strong and his tone forceful. "I think it is a judgment against the very people sitting around this table that, instead of asking how we can make our city a better place for all its citizens, we instead have a mocking comment about how it's the job of the Democrats.

"I spent five years in hell, five years where I never knew what the next day would bring. I was beaten, I was tortured, I was starved, and I was raped. I learned that there will always be those who seek to prosper from cruelty and glory in the power they get from stepping on the throats of those without power. I learned how to take that power back, and I promised myself that when I had the power to help, I would. And I will." Oliver stood in the stunned silence that followed and held his hand out for Laurel. "I don't expect most of you to come, but be aware there will be a fundraiser for C.N.R.I. in a few weeks' time to raise funds so that Miss Lance here and her associates can continue to work in their own way to bring justice back to Starling City, despite the S.C.P.D.'s undeniable corruption." He turned to look at Laurel, ignoring the snarl that came from the Commissioner's direction. "Shall we go?"

"Yes, I believe it's time to leave," Laurel said, rising smoothly from her seat. "Thank you for the dinner, Mrs. Queen; being here was very enlightening. But I'm afraid the air has grown rather foul." Oliver and Laurel departed the dining room, leaving a group of diners who were stunned to a man and woman, aside from one.

Malcolm Merlyn hadn't expected his godson to be so effusive or to reveal so much about what had happened to him. He could feel Tommy sitting beside him and didn't have to look to know his son's expression was shocked and horrified. Moira appeared near tears while Thea had run out of the room after her brother and his plus one. Malcolm, though, was considering the couple that had just left here. Together, they were a powerful match, perhaps enough to challenge the status quo he had enforced all these years, especially if the suspicions now percolating in his mind about what Oliver meant about doing what he could to help now that he had the power to panned out. He couldn't leave anything to chance; he needed to get rid of one of them, and if his suspicions about Oliver were true, than his godson would be far more useful than the opinionated young attorney.

Once he was done here, he would need to contact the Huntsman. There was another target that needed to be dealt with; in comparison to Laurel Lance, Felicity Smoak wasn't even a footnote and the only danger she truly posed was exposing evidence to Walter of things from five years ago, and Walter could be dealt with if need be. He had heard from Moira that Oliver would be leaving Starling City tonight on some unknown business. This was the perfect opportunity to get rid of Miss Lance. *4*

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed the chapter.

Chapter Notes:

*1* As always, I want to paint the picture that there are consequences to meddling with time and leave Oliver with having to choose between the lesser of two evils.

*2* This is deliberate. Nudocerdo is going to play a much larger role, particularly after the Christmas confrontation.

*3* Again, we have to keep in mind that this Oliver is NOT the Oliver who went through this type of thing originally. I also want to take this time to point out that, in the comics, Oliver Queen/Green Arrow is a liberal, and I can confirm that if he gets involved in politics in this story, that is where he'll be taking up a political mantle. So I'm giving people who don't like the idea the chance to get out now, before it ever reaches that point.

*4* Bad idea, Malcolm. VERY bad idea…