Author's Notes: Surprise, surprise, here's an update! No, I haven't given up on this story. It's just 2020 … I mean, does anything else really need to be said? Also, I was struggling with rolling out the revelation that Gideon was on Lian Yu while Slade was detoxing from the Mirukuru. Oh, and I'm about ten chapters away from finishing my first novel. Okay, the chapter title? The Confessional is the closet/small room where Catholic priests heard confessions from penitents. It's still used, but priests also hear confessions sitting in a room face to face with parishioners. Trying to come up with a name for this chapter was giving me a headache, and my eyes happened to fall upon that word, and a light went on inside my head. So, in this chapter, Oliver continues to struggle with his knowledge regarding Gideon; Slade and Meg show off their project to Oliver and their respective fathers; and Gideon sticks his foot in his mouth … all the way up to his hip. Next chapter, we'll check in with Malcolm and Rebecca.

Chapter Ten

Confessional

Destine, MO

En Route to Youth Center

Approximately twenty minutes later

"Miss Meg, what's for dinner tonight?"

Oliver bit back a smile as his nephew asked the question in a singsong voice, sounding like every other eleven year old boy he'd ever known (including himself). After breakfast was finished and everyone had changed clothes or added layers, the entire group piled into the 'activity' bus which Slade drove (according to his brother, he bought it from Meg's church, which found it necessary to get a larger such bus. Slade and Meg used it primarily for the youth center). They were now bumping along the road to that very same youth center now. Meg answered in an equally singsong voice, "That's eight hours away, Grant, I haven't even thought about it yet." (Oliver did not cover his laugh with a cough, he didn't laugh at all.)

Slade glanced up to meet Oliver's eyes in the mirror, and they both smiled, Slade's smile reflecting the familiar fond exasperation he demonstrated whenever he looked at Oliver. The young mayor couldn't really look away from Slade for more than a few minutes, as he realized once again that he had his brother back. They had both come a long way from Lian Yu … both physically and emotionally. And Oliver was beyond relieved that Slade's brain was working again after Dory's bombshell. It took him both kids getting changed, a bickering session between his and Meg's respective fathers, and Meg threatening to send them back to their room (and wasn't that hilarious). But finally, Slade's brain finished rebooting, and they all tromped onto the bus ten minutes earlier. Surprising absolutely no one, William and Grant staked out a seat together around the middle of the bus, with Angel watching over them both a few seats behind them (apparently, that was common for Grant and Angel). Meg took the seat immediately to Slade's right, digging her phone out of her purse to make notes, while Oliver commandeered the seat behind his brother. And the two old spies were in the very back.

The two old spies … Oliver still wasn't comfortable with what he knew about Gideon Wilson. He had no idea why the other man was on Lian Yu, or how he found out that Slade was there. Although, he could make a guess … but that was all it would be, a guess. He was even less comfortable with keeping things from Slade, but without actually knowing something, aside from the fact that Gideon Wilson was on the island, he was worried he would make things worse.

His cell chimed at him, and expecting a text from Speedy, he was surprised when, instead, he found a text from his soft-spoken hostess reading, 'What's wrong? I may not know you as well as Slade does, but I know when he's worried … and right now, he sees you're worried about something, which worries him. What's wrong?' Startled, he looked up and around, right into the mirror, and yeah, he did look worried. Even worse, he once again met Slade's eye … but fortunately, no questions were asked. At least, not verbally.

He thought for several seconds … should he answer her question or blow her off? His question was answered a moment later when his phone chimed again, 'Please don't insult my intelligence by saying nothing is wrong. If it's not something I can help with, just say so. But I've raised a child by myself, and I know a worried face when I see one.' Damn. He supposed he'd taken for granted that he could use the same tricks on Meg that he once used on his mother. He glanced over at her, to find a very unimpressed expression on her face.

He was tempted to use the out she offered. After all, he'd only just met her. Yes, Slade had been living with her for a few months, and she knew him through that, but she didn't really know him. Even so, he found himself typing, 'When I returned to Lian Yu, while Slade was detoxing from the drug we injected him with to save his life, I saw his father. I didn't realize it was his father at the time, it was just a man I didn't know talking with the director. I don't like keeping things from Slade, it always backfires when I do, and yet …' And yet, what would be gained from telling Slade that his father may have seen him at his absolute lowest, in a way that no one ever wanted their father to see them? For his own part, Oliver knew that it wouldn't make him love William any less … and he was sure that Slade felt the same way about Grant. But …

Oliver hit send, and turned his attention to the passing scenery. It was winter, but he found the countryside fascinating. He grew up in the city, that was his home … that was his. But there was a stark beauty to be found here in the cold winter, even without snow on the ground. His phone chimed once again, and the text from Meg read, 'Hmm. I see why you're worried. I had a minor panic attack when I realized that I mixed up important dates, and I was afraid Slade would think I lied to him. Honestly? I would give Gideon Wilson just enough rope to hang himself. I have a feeling he's gonna let the cat out of the bag himself before the day is out, so let him deal with the fallout. Or, if that makes you uncomfortable … as it does me, to be perfectly honest with you … there's a compromise. Wait until the end of the day, and then tell Slade. That way, you're covered.

Oliver was on the point of responding, when a second text popped up. It read, 'After all, for all you know, he was there on something entirely unrelated. Do you know if he knew Slade was there? Do you know if he actually saw Slade? You can't give him answers that you don't have, and this isn't like Lian Yu. The circumstances are far different. No, he hasn't told me the full story, just the outlines. And he is in full possession of his marbles.' That he was. And it was good advice … the more he thought about it, the more he realized it was probably the best way to handle it. He looked up from his phone and over at the woman, who was settling back into her seat as Slade started slowing. She gave a small shrug, and inclined her head out toward the window to her right. It took Oliver a moment to realize what she was saying.

But it was Grant who gleefully exclaimed, "We're here!" Oliver leaned forward as Slade made a turn, pulling through a gated fence, and a large brick building loomed in front of them. He smiled to himself, hearing his son's breathed, 'oh, that's soo cool!' Grant's answer sounded something like, 'wait until you see inside.' This was what his brother had been working on … and Oliver was looking forward to seeing more.

DSDSDSDSDS

He had to admit … it was an impressive building. Not nearly as exquisite as the buildings in Europe, but it wasn't meant to be beautiful or ornate. Even so, this had a beauty all its own. What was the phrase that was so popular right now? Oh, yes … it had good bones. He could understand the phrase, but he thought it a foolish one. A good foundation … that made far more sense for a building. Good bones were for people. In another life, in another time, he dreamed of being an architect. He was decent at geometry, and loved buildings. But, you couldn't just become an architect, you had to study and research. Up until he was twenty-one years old, that's what he'd done. Of course, his dreams of being an architect fell through, but he never lost his love of buildings … especially older, more elegant buildings. His elder daughter (who was, in some ways, entirely too much like him) referred to them as buildings with character, as opposed to 'cookie-cutter' buildings. Yes. They were buildings with character. Just like this building. He briefly wished that his younger daughter was with him now.

No, he didn't talk about Sophie much, but that didn't mean he didn't think about her. Like her older sister, she was never far from his mind. And since she'd begun emailing him six months earlier (something he needed to tell Meg, since she'd know that she could start talking about Sophie with him), he was finally getting to know her. He'd learned, for instance, that she was on track to graduate with honors with a degree in architecture. It was his greatest hope that she would not be set on another path, as he was … that she would be able to make her dreams come true. But one of the hardest lessons he'd had to learn as a father was that he couldn't protect his daughters, as much as he wanted to.

(More than once, he actually realized he was grateful to Clare for keeping Meg from him, especially when he remembered the horrors of the events that led him to abandon his dream of becoming an architect. He would sacrifices a thousand of his lives and a thousand of his dreams to prevent either of his girls from ever enduring such a horror. Unfortunately, that choice was taken out of his hands, time and again … so instead, he would use his experiences to help his girls put the pieces back together again).

Following his oldest daughter now, Bastiaan listened intently as she explained what they'd done over the last few weeks, Slade interjecting further comments and drawing nods from Meg in confirmation. That … relationship … fascinated him. He wasn't sure if they even realized what they were doing, but his daughter and Gideon's son acted as a team, backing each other up and providing reminders as needed. They'd only known each other for a matter of months, but they were more in tune with each other than Bastiaan ever was with any of his wives.

And a glance at Oliver Queen as Slade and Meg led them on a tour of the burgeoning youth center informed Bastiaan that he'd noticed it as well. The small smile the young mayor wore as they returned to the main hall of the former warehouse said as much, but he said nothing. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said of Bastiaan's idiot partner, who observed as he looked around, "Impressive … most impressive. Well done, both of you. Especially you, Slade. Yes, you've done well for yourself, son … you've come far from Lian Yu, recovered well from the Mirukuru." Bastiaan was actually embarrassed that it took him a few seconds to realize what Gideon had said.

Slade, for his own part, had frozen, staring at his father in shock. Oliver and Meg exchanged a glance, even as they both shifted closer to Slade. And not surprisingly, Gideon was utterly oblivious to the bomb he just dropped on his son and grandson … the latter of whom was looking from his father to his grandfather and then back again. But finally, it was Slade who spoke, sounding far younger than his actual years, "You … you were there? On Lian Yu? You … you saw me when I was … before my sanity came back?"

Oliver shifted closer to Slade, as if his proximity could comfort the other man. Meg did the same, and for the first time, Bastiaan realized that Oliver Queen wasn't the only one who didn't seem surprised by Gideon's revelation … his own daughter had the same reaction. And for the first time, Gideon realized what he'd said, understood the bomb he'd dropped so casually on his child. His expression switched from something close to awed to chagrined. He replied, his voice very soft, "Aye, lad. I was there for a meeting with Lyla Michaels."

Bastiaan glanced away from the obviously-rattled former operative, and at Angel, whose arms were wrapped protectively around Grant. She looked from Bastiaan to Gideon to Slade, before looking to her mother. Meg glanced at Angel, and then up to the second floor. Angel nodded in acknowledgment, and began leading Grant away. The boy clearly didn't want to go … but he just as clearly didn't intend to fight Angel. As soon as the children left, Slade finally spoke once more, asking, "You two knew about this? How long?"

"About fifteen minutes. Neither of us knew enough to answer any questions you might have," Meg answered. Slade closed his eye, but nodded. Oliver opened his mouth and closed it again. Bastiaan's first-born added, "Downstairs, Slade." He nodded and began walking away, toward the area that they were told was too dangerous for them to tour. The younger man was visibly trembling, even from the back, and then Meg murmured, more to Oliver than anyone else, "I suppose now we know the answer to, 'did his father see him.' Give him about five minutes, then go after him. I'm going to take them upstairs."

Oliver merely squeezed Meg's shoulder in turn, and said equally softly, "You were right, though. About all of it. I'll bring him upstairs once he's ready. Just out of curiosity, is there a shower?" She nodded in response and Oliver muttered, "Good. I think we'll both need it. Meet you guys in a bit." He squeezed her shoulder one last time, then set off after Slade. Meg's eyes tracked his progress, before snapping back to Gideon. She offered an entirely too sweet, entirely toothy smile, one that immediately put Bastiaan on edge. He had the strangest sense that right now, he wasn't looking at his little girl … but someone else. And yet, it absolutely was his Meg. Just … maybe a side of her he'd never seen before, because she'd never had to be that person with him.

"And now, Meneer Wilson … please join me upstairs, while your son comes to terms with this bit of information," she said. It may have been phrased as a question, but it was anything but a request. Gideon's mouth opened and closed several times, but Bastiaan elbowed him in the side and nodded at him to follow Meg. Gideon closed his mouth with a snap (albeit with a dirty look for Bastiaan), but followed Meg up the stairs to the office she had chosen for her own. Surprising him not at all, it was decorated with childish hand-prints and fingerpaints. Meg didn't say a word at first, nodding at them both to have a seat. There was warmth in her face when she looked at Bastiaan, which reassured him more than a little. He was a bit unsettled by this new version of his daughter … but also intrigued. Did she develop this when she met Slade … or was this an older version of herself? He hadn't seen her immediately after Stephen's death, after all.

She walked to the window overlooking the floor of the center, folding her arms over her chest. Gideon looked at Bastiaan, obviously un-nerved by this strange woman who had taken Meg's place, but the Dutch operative could only shrug. They had to wait. Meg would speak when she was ready. When she finally spoke, it was less instruction and more … explanation. She observed, still staring out the window, "Oliver told me on the ride over here about seeing you, Meneer* Wilson, all those years ago on Lian Yu. He hadn't seen Slade on that particular visit, needing instead to have a conversation with the director about something else. I didn't ask what about, it isn't any of my business. At the time, he hadn't even known that there was a connection between you and Slade. So. Imagine his surprise when he saw you in my house."

As she spoke, she turned to face them, her eyes focused only on Gideon. She went on, "Now, I'll be the first person to admit that whatever happens between you and Slade is none of my business. He's an accomplished operative, and the father of two sons. He, of all people, doesn't need my protection. And he's more than capable of protecting Grant. But understand me, and understand me well. If your actions or words impact my daughter in any way, shape or form? Oh, then it becomes my business … and I will make you regret it."

On the face of it, it was just any mother setting limitations where her child was concerned. But Bastiaan only had to remember his daughter moving to Slade Wilson's side, ready to do battle with a lead crystal statue. Only a fool would underestimate or dismiss that woman … and neither Bastiaan nor Gideon were fools (present situation aside). Bastiaan glanced at Gideon out of the corner of his eye … and saw that his partner was realizing the exact same thing.

DSDSDSDSDSDS

"I didn't know the answers to the questions you might have asked. That's the only reason I didn't tell you."

Slade had been working in the basement for nearly ten minutes when Oliver spoke up. He'd been aware of the younger man's presence since his brother arrived in what he and Meg had taken to calling 'the pit.' Because right now, that was exactly what it looked like. And right now, that was what Slade needed, more than anything. It was ugly and it was a mess … just like his emotions. Still, he turned to face Oliver, offering a tired smile, "I know, kid. I don't blame you for this. Let me guess, Meg thought you should give my father enough rope to hang himself, and if he didn't say something by the end of the day, she suggested you bring it up?"

The kid blinked at him a few times, before saying, "I'm both curious how you know that and afraid to ask. But yeah. She and I were texting. Neither of us wanted to lie to you, but like Meg said, we didn't have the answers you'd want. For all I knew, your father didn't even know you were there. I didn't think it was likely, once I learned who he was and what he was to you, but it was still a possibility."

"You did the right thing, kid. I'm not angry with you or Meg. I'm not even sure if I'm angry with my father. I …" Slade began, then sighed. He left what he was doing and sat down on the step in front of Oliver, his back to his younger brother. There was a brief silence, then came the sound of Oliver sliding down the step to sit beside Slade, the warmth of the other man's shoulder brushing against his own.

Neither man spoke for several moments. There was nothing that could be said. Slade supposed he could go back to work in the pit, but the energy left him. And he had entirely too many things to work through in his mind, and Oliver … just sat there. After several moments, Slade said quietly, "When I was a boy, the only thing I really wanted was for my parents to be proud of me. As I got older, I knew that would never happen with my mother, because when she looked at me, she didn't see her child … she saw a weapon to be wielded against my father.

"I gave up on making my father proud … I don't know when. At least I thought I did. And then he dropped that so casually, as if I hadn't murdered or destroyed the lives of so many innocent people. He … he saw me while I was detoxing from the Mirukuru. He saw me … in a way that I never wanted anyone to see me. When I was detoxing, when my sanity started returning … I was beyond sick, kid. I couldn't tell the difference between hallucinations and reality. In some ways, it was worse than when I was seeing the false Shado."

Shado. Slade rubbed his hand over his face, because once more, Dory's statement about how Shado was so proud of them both repeated itself in his mind. Oliver said softly, "None of us want the people we love, the people we admire or respect, to see us when we're that vulnerable. I don't know if you need or even want to hear this. But if William went through something like that, I wouldn't love him any less. And you … he has a really hard, and really weird way of showing it … but your father doesn't love you any less, doesn't think any less of you. In fact … I think he admires you for it. You say you're not a hero. But you're always been mine, and I'm fairly sure you're Grant's as well."

Slade started to remind Oliver that no, he was no hero … he was a killer. Even before the Mirukuru warped his mind, he was a killer. But the kid wasn't finished. He said softly, "There's a common belief that a hero and a role model are the same thing. They aren't, not necessarily. They can be. But they don't have to be. Something that Meg said reminded me of that truth. She told her daughter while we were waiting for the boys that a hero isn't some great shining being who is perfect and does everything right and moral. It's the person who is willing to get their hands dirty, so someone else can keep their conscience clear … the person who is willing to risk their life, their well-being, for other people. And Slade … that's you to a 't.' You nearly died trying to save me. Not just once, but so many times. You risked your life to save a planeload of people you'd never met. That is the absolute definition of a hero. Yeah, you fell … you fell far, you were pushed. But you clawed your way back up, bit by painful bit. And you know something, Mirukuru and all … if Will were to grow up anything like you, I'd be the proudest father on the planet."

The kid's bright eyes shone with determination and even more than that, with faith. Even after everything, the kid still believed in him. Slade looked down, having no idea what to say to any of that. So he said nothing … just sat there on the steps leading down, beside the one person he trusted without question. Oliver let the silence linger, before adding almost absently, "I wonder what Meg is saying to your father right now … just out of curiosity, are there any recording devices in the offices?" He gave Slade a sidelong look, smirking just a bit, surprising a laugh out of Slade. The kid laughed along with him, adding, "Well, if not, I'm sure her father will be happy to fill us in. But not now. We'll go back when you're ready." In thanks, Slade bumped his little brother's shoulder with his own, content to sit beside Oliver in silence.

TBC

*Meneer … Dutch for 'Mister.' Meg doesn't speak a lot of Dutch … she's picked up a few words from her father, so when she does use it, it's a sign to people that they need to pay attention. Also, I don't subscribe to this notion that heroes are these people who keep their hands clean and never do anything wrong. My idea of a hero is the person who risks his or her life to protect other, who is willing to dirty their hands because they're strong enough to deal with he ramifications to protect someone who isn't. So yes … by my definition, Slade is absolutely a hero. His armor is seriously dinged and scorched, but he is very much a hero.