Chapter Two

Max tried to ignore the plaque on the wall in Captain Lance's office. It wasn't what the plaque stood for that bothered him, it was the crooked angle it hung at. He knew he had a problem. Six reminded him of it daily, but he couldn't help that he liked things to be orderly. It helped him think.

He looked out the office window to the large room swarming with detectives and officers going about their duties at the precinct. He checked his watch. The officer who brought him here had told him the Captain would only be a minute or two. It had been five. He twisted his cane between his fingers.

Yes, he had another problem. He liked it when people were punctual, but that had been something he'd learn to deal with better than untidiness. Six was always late, or early, but never on time. He called it unpredictable. Max called it paranoia.

Captain Lance finally walked in straightening his tie. "Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Queen. This recent crime wave keeps me busy."

"I understand. It's not a problem," Max lied.

Lance sat down at his desk and shuffled through some papers. "Like I told you on the phone we still don't have a name for this guy. We can't find him in any database, so I was hoping you might have something to point us in the right direction."

"I'm afraid I don't have much. I didn't get a name either."

"And that didn't strike you as odd when the suspect hired you."

"In my line of work it's not uncommon for people to remain anonymous, or give a false name. It's just something you get used to."

"What exactly did this man hire you for?"

"Well, that's the thing, he hired me to find out who he was. He didn't remember."

Lance leaned back in his chair. "Was he suffering from amnesia or something?"

"I'm not a doctor, so I can't really say, but I'm sure he had no idea who he was."

"So were you able to find out anything about his identity?"

"Unfortunately, no. He only hired me a week ago and I had business out of the country to attend to first. I was here to meet him, which is why I was in town when you called."

"Were you aware your client was involved in criminal activity?"

"No."

Lance rubbed his chin. "So I have a dead suspect with no identity. What am I supposed to do with that?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help."

"Maybe you still can. How much do you charge for a consulting fee?"

Laurel hurried down the sidewalk, clutching a take out bag. The food was probably cold by now. Her car had decided to break down that morning, which meant she was getting a lot of exercise. She would be glad when she went to get her car from the shop at the end of the day. Her body was a little sore from last night's patrol as the Black Canary.

Her phone chimed and she tucked the take out bag under her arm, so she could dig her phone out of her purse. During her struggle to find it she accidentally bumped into someone going the opposite direction.

She looked up, apologetic, "I'm sorry— Max? Max Queen?"

The man turned and tried to smile. "Laurel."

"It's so great to see you." She pulled him into a hug even though she knew Max had never really understood or liked them. She stepped back and looked at him. He wore the usual vest, tie and blazer all perfectly pressed. "How are you?"

"Well, enough I suppose." He looked down at his crooked leg. "I'll never run again, but that's what happens when you fall off a balcony."

A sad smile spread across Laurel's lips. Max could be so brutally honest about things that most people would want to avoid. "What brings you here?" She gestured toward the police station. "I hope everything's all right."

"Your father just hired me to help with one of his cases."

"Wow, really?"

"You sound surprised."

"No, that's great."

"You don't have to pretend. I know he always thought I was a weird kid."

"You weren't weird, you were just...different." She smiled.

"Which is just a nicer way of saying I was weird."

Laurel shook her head. "It seems like you turned out fine to me, regardless of your weirdness. From what I hear you have a very successful business."

Max's brow furrowed. "Where did you hear that?"

Laurel almost laughed at his serious face. For most people that would have been a good thing, but she knew how much Max desired anonymity. He had never done well with all the attention the Queen family attracted. "I had to dig deep to find anything," she said. "I just wanted to know how you were and it's not like you're on social media or anything."

"I'm afraid I don't have time for socialization on electronics."

"Well, I'm sure Oliver and Thea will be glad to see you."

Max looked down at his watch. "Yes..."

She had seen that look on his face before. He wanted to be doing anything but talking about Oliver right now. She knew the history all too well. "You can't avoid him forever."

"I've done a pretty good job so far."

Laurel crossed her arms. "And you're proud of that?"

He wouldn't meet her eyes, instead he scratched at the ground with his cane. "Resigned to it."

She sighed. "You may not want to see Oliver, but don't let that stop you from seeing Thea. After everything she's been through family is what she needs right now. She has a club—"

"I know." Max looked at her. "Contrary to this cities gossip magazines, I'm not a robot completely devoid of emotions."

"I never thought that."

A black car came to a stop at the curb and an older gentleman got out. "This is my ride," Max said.

"Well, I'm glad you're home, Max. Don't be a stranger, okay?"

He nodded, walking toward the car where an older gentleman opened the door for him. "Thanks, Alfred." He was about to step inside when he suddenly turned back to Laurel. "Tell Sara I said hello."

Laurel felt a little uneasy. His words seemed so intentional as if he wanted to see if she would flinch. She wondered if he knew Sara was really dead, but how could he? And why did it really matter. She knew if you valued your friendship with Max you didn't lie to him. But how could she admit something to him that she wasn't willing to admit to herself. "Yeah, I will."

Eight years ago

"Slow down, Max," Sara said, grabbing onto his arm. She knew immediately he would hate it, but it was the only way to stop him before she collapsed from exhaustion. "Why...are we...running," she gasped, looking behind her. They'd left Laurel and Oliver a few streets back somewhere.

"Didn't you see the guy following us?" he said, not breathing heavily at all.

Sara tried to figure out when he'd gotten so good at running. She put her hands on her head, trying to catch her breath. "What guy? And why would anyone want to follow boring old you?" she teased.

"Because of that contest."

"So you won some contest and now you think people are following you. That doesn't make any sense."

Max headed off down the sidewalk. "I don't expect you to understand."

Sara reluctantly followed, but then her house was only a block away at this point. She could collapse on the couch when they got there. "Wait up, Max. You're serious about this, aren't you?"

"I've only been saying it for weeks."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe we should do something about it then."

"Like what?"

"Tell my dad. Have him look into it."

Max was quiet for a moment until suddenly he grabbed onto her arm. "There he is again," he whispered. "See, that green car."

Sara looked down at the hand now clutching her wrist and then at the car passing them on the road. The quick glimpse she caught of the man behind the wheel reminded her of someone, although she couldn't place him. Maybe she had seen him earlier. She couldn't be sure. She was starting to get a little creeped out though. "If someone was following you why would they be so careless to let you see them?"

"I don't know."

"What should we do," she whispered.

"I have an idea," a breathless Oliver said from behind them. "Let's not randomly break out into a run for no reason."

Max clenched his fists. "This is serious, Oliver."

"So is you running off. Mom would kill me if you got lost."

"I don't get lost."

"He thinks someone is following him." Sara blurted out. She wasn't sure Max wanted her to share that information, but they couldn't keep it to themselves.

Oliver shook his head. "That again, Max, really?"

"He's not making it up," Sara insisted. "I saw a guy drive by."

"Guys drive by all the time," Oliver said. "It doesn't mean they're following you."

Laurel put a hand on his arm. "Ollie, maybe we should talk to my dad about it. He might be able to help."

Oliver crossed his arms. "You do remember who we are? There's no way we can keep this quiet."

Oliver hadn't expected to spend the last three hours in an internet cafe, drinking terrible coffee while Googling his brother. Resorting to an internet search seemed like a bad way to catch up with family, but Oliver didn't have much choice. His mother never spoke about Max when she was still alive and Thea hardly mentioned him.

He sipped his now cold coffee as he scrolled through the search results. There wasn't much. He already knew about the accident that had left Max's left leg crippled, but he read the several articles about the incident anyway. Nothing new there. Everything else that mentioned Max were articles in Starling City tabloids, which speculated about whether or not he was some type of robot.

This was hopeless.

Oliver leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes. He knew this would have been a lot easier if he had just asked Felicity to help, but he didn't want to get her involved. At least not yet. There would be too much history to catch her up on and he wasn't sure he was ready to tell her everything. But maybe he wouldn't need to. There was someone that already knew everything. Or at least mostly everything.

He picked up his phone and stared at it. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. But what other options did he have. He scrolled through his contacts and selected a number. He waited while the phone rang. It finally went to voicemail. Leaving a message suddenly felt more awkward, but he forced himself to speak.

"Hey, Laurel...it's Oliver. I know things haven't been the best between us lately, but Max is back..." He exhaled. He didn't know what else to say. "Just give me a call if you can, please."

He ended the call and tossed his phone on the table. There was nothing more to do here. He swallowed the last of his coffee and left.

Twenty minutes later, he found himself back in Verdant's basement trying to distract himself with several rigorous training exercises. He focused on his movements, his heart beat, losing himself in a world that had become strangely comforting to him. As the minutes ticked by he felt his limbs grow heavy, but he pressed on. Stopping meant thinking and thinking meant... His surroundings blurred.

"You said you believed me," Max yelled.

"I do, but-"

"You wouldn't let her send me away if you did."

"It's not that simple," Oliver insisted.

"I trusted you."

Oliver closed his eyes and breathed deeply. So much for not thinking.

"Hey, Oliver, you might want to see this," Felicity called from her desk.

Glad to have an interruption Oliver hurried over to look at one of Felicity's monitors.

"I think there's a problem upstairs," she said.

Oliver frowned. This definitely wasn't the interruption he was hoping for.

Max found Thea's club, Verdant, with ease. He had wondered why at her age she was allowed and even encouraged to be a part of an atmosphere that he had always found loud and distasteful. He would never understand the need for young people to congregate in a room to dance and drink while a DJ blared music. If you could even call it music. At least the place was quiet now except for an argument over something Max couldn't quite make out.

Thea was standing by the bar showing a piece of paper to a delivery man. "I'm still three bottles short."

The man shook his head. "I'm telling you I counted everything myself and it all checks out."

"Well, I'm telling you it doesn't, so I'm not paying for what I didn't get."

"Sorry, lady, but you already paid and we don't do refunds."

"That's a little convenient. I should go look in your truck maybe I'll find my missing booze." Thea headed toward the door.

The man grabbed her arm. "You can't do that, lady."

Thea shook off the man's grasp. "Get off me you, creep."

Max hobbled toward his sister. "Hey, is there a problem here?"

Thea's eyes widened. "Max?"

The delivery man jumped, but when he saw the man with the cane coming toward him he relaxed. Max was not an intimidating figure. It was quite obvious by the way he leaned on his cane that he couldn't move very fast and the man wasn't too concerned that he would pose a threat to him.

"Nothing that's any of your business," the man replied.

"I'd say it was my business the moment you manhandled my sister," Max responded. "Now return the items she ordered-"

"Or what?"

"You'll regret it."

The delivery man laughed and stabbed his finger into Max's chest. "What are you gonna do, pretty boy? Beat me with your cane?"

Max smiled to mask his irritation at having his personal space invaded. "That would be a waste of my time. Return the missing items from the order now."

"I don't have time for this." The man shoved Max to the floor.

Thea rushed over to Max. "Are you okay?" She hardly waited for a response before she turned on the man fists balled. "You shouldn't have done that."

Max stared at his sister. He wasn't entirely sure what she was about to do, but it looked as if she wanted to rip the man's head off. Max had never seen her eyes filled with so much anger. It actually scared him a little.

"Thea, do you need help with something?" someone asked.

Max didn't need to turn. He knew Oliver was standing behind him. All his plans to avoid him had been ruined. And here Oliver was rushing in to save the day while Max struggled to get to his feet. He couldn't even protect his own sister.

"Max was just telling this guy to return my stolen merchandise, maybe another word of encouragement would do the trick," Thea said, raising an eyebrow at the shady delivery man.

"I don't have to take this," the man said trying to push past Oliver.

Oliver didn't budge and the man stared at him with wide eyes. "You really don't want to make me ask," Oliver said in a low tone.

"I'll check the back of my truck again," the man said.

"Great," Oliver said. "You do that."

"And I'll go with you to make sure you don't take off," Thea said. She gave Max a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek. "I'm so glad you're home, Max. Don't disappear on me. I'll be right back." She rushed off after the delivery man leaving the brothers alone.

Max didn't look at Oliver. He couldn't.

Oliver put his hands in pockets, not knowing what else to do with them. "It's good to see you, Max."

"Is it?"

"Yes. It's been a long time."

"I knew you weren't dead," Max blurted out still not looking at his brother. "She wouldn't believe me."

Oliver knew "she" meant their mother. Max had long since stopped calling her that. "I'm sorry."

Max tapped his finger rapidly against the side of his cane. "Yeah, well, it doesn't matter anymore."

Oliver studied his shoes for a moment before clearing his throat. "So what brings you to town?"

"I'm helping with a police investigation." Max's finger slowed. "Captain Lance hired me."

"Really?"

"You sound just like Laurel."

"You saw her?"

"Yeah, we talked," Max replied. "And she lied to me about Sara." Out of the corner of his eye, Max saw Oliver shift nervously. "Sara's dead again, isn't she?" Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but Max cut him off. "You're a terrible liar. Don't bother."

"Max—"

"Let's just skip this part where we pretend everything's okay."

"If I could take back everything that happened—"

"But you can't, Oliver." Max finally looked at him. "I need to go. Tell Thea I'll come by to see her another time."

When Thea finally finished with the delivery man she found Oliver sitting alone at the bar. He looked a little lost as he stared off at the wall, holding a half empty glass in his hands.

She slipped onto the stool beside him. "I take it things didn't go so well."

Oliver exhaled. "No, it didn't. Max said he'd come by some other time."

"I hoped maybe things would be different."

"What do you mean?"

"Max was so broken up when we thought you were dead. He didn't leave his room or talk to anyone for weeks I guess when he didn't come home after you did I should have known things hadn't changed."

"I don't think they ever will, Thea," Oliver replied, twisting the glass between his fingers. "Max gave up on me a long time ago."

Thea crossed her arms on the counter and glanced at her brother. "He looked for you, Ollie. And he didn't stop until the day mom finally made him stop."

Oliver looked up. "Made him stop?"

"She took his computers, all his research and burned everything."

"She shouldn't have done that. Max needs to find things when he's upset. She knew that."

"And she knew he wouldn't stop even if he couldn't find you. I guess she was trying to protect him in her own strange way. She didn't want to lose him too."

"She'd already done that a long time ago." Oliver stood up and walked a few steps away. "Why didn't someone tell me all this."

"Mom didn't want you to know. She wasn't proud of it."

Oliver put his hands on his head. How many more things could go wrong with his family. It always seemed as if he was finding out something new. Someone cleared their throat and he turned to find Felicity and Roy standing nearby.

"Umm, Oliver," Felicity said. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but could I talk to you for a minute."

Oliver looked at sister.

"Go ahead, Ollie," Thea said, sliding off her stool. "Roy's here to help me unpack my order anyway."

Thea and Roy went off to the store room and Oliver joined Felicity.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked.

"You might want to sit down."

"I'm fine."

"It's really, really bad, you might be better off—

"Just tell me, Felicity."

She exhaled. "Slade Wilson escaped from prison."

A/N: Thanks for reading.