Title: Wilted Flowers
Author: QueencestQueen
Pairings: Oliver/Thea (aka Queencest and/or Tholiver)
Rating: M (or E, depending on the rating system)
Summary:
What is this place? The sign on the gate said "Foxworth Hall." Its Gothic style was intimidating and foreboding. He couldn't picture his mother and sister in that awful place. They belonged in somewhere light and happy, somewhere like their family home, not this house of dread. What the hell had happened during those five years?
Notes/Warnings:
- AU for the entire series.
- Inspired by/Fusion with "Flowers in the Attic," by VC Andrews
- This chapter was not beta'd, unfortunately.
- Religion is mentioned in this chapter.
- Bold-ed words in this chapter are Thea's journal entries.
- Italics are thoughts and/or text messages,
Dedicated to:
- Logan for letting me talk his ear off about Queencest endlessly.
Disclaimer:
All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of this author. This author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Oliver awoke on his half of their shared bed, sleep clinging stubbornly to his brain. He rolled over onto his side, expecting to find Thea still dreaming next to him. All that greeted him was the rumpled bed sheet. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes in the process, before kicking off the blankets. He stood beside the bed, stretching his arms above his head, when a movement outside the double doors leading to their balcony caught his attention.
Out there on the balcony, without care for the grey sky above, was Thea. She was spinning around in tight circles on the concrete; her hair and clothes were plastered to pale skin as rain pelted down. She just kept spinning and spinning, her face tilted toward the sky. Given how saturated her clothing was with rain, Oliver knew she'd been out there for far too long. He made his way to the double doors in a few strides and opened them, sticking his head out to get her attention. "Thea, what are you doing?"
For a few seconds Oliver thought that perhaps the rain had drowned out his words. It was, after all, literally pelting the area with a fury. Then Thea turned her head to look at him. "It's raining."
Confusion furrowed his brow as he watched her continue to spin, though she did slow down some, "Yes, I can see that."
Thea sighed softly, "Isn't it wonderful? I've not felt the rain in years."
It was an aspect of life that he'd taken for granted, even on Lian Yu, that in one simple sentence Thea managed to shine a new light on. "Speedy, you're soaked. Come back inside before you get pneumonia."
This time when she looked at him, there was a small, content smile on her lips. "Dance with me, Ollie?"
"There's no music."
She tipped her head back to look up into his face, "I've gotten good at hearing my own music."
He should say no. He should demand that she get inside and dry off; that was what a good, responsible older brother would do. Seeing the glee on Thea's face made it impossible for him to do those things though. Instead, he stepped out onto the balcony too. The cold rain drenched the t-shirt and boxers he wore to bed in minutes, but he barely noticed; his attention was solely focused upon his sister's beaming grin. He held out his right hand, "May I have this dance, madam?"
Thea laid her hand in his and he swiftly pulled her into the proper position. His hands came to loop around her back, dutifully ignoring the fact that he could feel her sharp bones below his palms, and his left hand splayed between her shoulder blades. Meanwhile, her arms moved to lay around his neck lightly.
Slowly, to a beat that was only for them, the siblings began to dance. With every step that he took, Oliver began to see the beauty of the rain. He didn't feel the cold clinging to his skin. No, all he saw was the glittering magic of the rain drops and the sluggish slow nature of the morning. Most obvious in that moment though was Thea. His sister. Beautiful. Fragile, yet strong in an inexplicable way. Rain had soaked her long hair molding it to the sides of her face, making her cheeks look even more gaunt than usual. Droplets sparkled on her eyelashes.
They danced together until Thea began to shiver, finally succumbing to the cold of the rain chilling her skin. He used his hand between her shoulders to nudge her back towards their hotel room, "Time to go in."
Once they were within the room, Oliver reached behind himself without looking and closed the doors to the balcony so that the rain couldn't follow them inside. Thea looked even more chilled, her lips tinting ever so slightly blue as she stood there, huddled in on herself.
"Give me just a minute to use the bathroom and change and then you can get in the shower to warm up, okay?"
With that said, Oliver headed to the restroom, grabbing a change of clothes on the way. He made quick work of his morning routine before stripping out of his soaked nightclothes and putting on a dry shirt and jeans. Thea was still standing right where he'd left her, though she'd turned to face the balcony's double doors once more. As his fingertips brushed her shoulder, Thea jumped. "Are you alright, Speedy?"
"Of course," Her smile felt forced as she turned away from the view to face him, but Oliver didn't dare say anything about it. He had to tread very carefully around her lest she clam up on him completely.
"It's all yours."
Thea took ahold of her suitcase's handle and made her way into the bathroom. She set it down upon the length of the sink's basin, thankfully not a motion-sensing faucet, before shutting and locking the door to the bathroom behind her. Just that one little act had left Oliver with many questions, but again, he knew better than to ask them.
As the shower turned on, Oliver busied himself with straightening up the room a little, just for something to do. He'd always hated the part of the morning after waking up but before there was anything to occupy his time. When he was much younger, his father used to chuckle and say that he was 'just a boy on the go, eager to discover the day.' Oliver wasn't entirely sure that was his reason, but there was certainly no denying that he was always impatient for whatever lie ahead.
A loud, intrusive knock on the door to their suite forced Oliver to abandon his project of trashing the bad leftovers in their minifridge. No one should be knocking on that door, Oliver thought with a quick glance at the clock on the bedside table. The maids don't reach our rooms for forty minutes.
With no explanation, he was forced to assume the worst: that their mother had tracked him down. Suddenly Oliver was very glad that he'd suggested Thea take a shower. Seeing Moira in the doorway to their hotel room would only validate the daily nightmares that Thea endured.
As the knocking persisted, Oliver realized that, ready or not, he was going to have to answer the door. It was simply not an option for Thea to see Moira and clearly, their mother wasn't going to leave any time soon. Squaring his shoulders and mentally preparing for a battle of words, Oliver made his way over, undid the locks, and opened it just a little to tell her off. The words died in his throat; it was not his mother as he'd deduced, but John Diggle himself.
"What are you doing here. Dig?" Oliver stepped aside allowing his friend to enter. He'd sent John the request for his gear two days ago, and he'd never heard back. Assuming that John sent the items and simply forgot to reply to the message, Oliver had brushed it off. The fact he was standing in what basically counted as the suite's foyer told the younger man that he'd not simply lost his text in the daily shuffle. No, he deliberately failed to reply because he was going to drop in unannounced.
"That's what I was going to ask you." John pushed past Oliver and into the hotel room as if he had every right to do so. Normally, Oliver would just laugh such a thing off. Ever since he'd hired the former military man as his bodyguard, for appearance's sake, he'd learned that John wouldn't be denied when determined; it was a trait that the two men shared. This was not a normal situation, however, and as such he was lacking patience for his friend's stubbornness. "What are you doing here, Oliver?"
Oliver closed the door and quickly redid the chain as well. It made both he and Thea feel safer. "I told you before I left where and why, Dig."
"You did," the older man said as he looked around the room without subtly at all. "You told us that you were flying to Virginia for a day or two and that you'd keep us informed."
John turned his attention from the room to his boss, "You have been here for more than two days and as for keeping us informed…you really haven't been. Most of the time, you avoid our inquiries altogether or change the subject and when you do answer our questions, you're evasive at best."
"So, what? You've come here to get the full story?" Immediately, Oliver was put on the defensive by John's words. He folded his arms over his chest. If answers were his goal, he was going to have a long wait ahead of him.
John sighed, "I'm trying to be your friend, Oliver. Something's going on. I just want to help you."
"I appreciate that. Thank you." He bridged the distance between them and touched John's arm lightly, "but I have to do this on my own."
"Have to do what on your own? Seriously, Oliver, what's going on? What is it that's keeping you here? You're needed in Starling City, remember? Your father's mission. Tommy, Laurel, Felicity, me. So, why are you still here?"
At that exact moment, the bathroom door squeaked open and the attention of both men slid over to the young woman in the doorway. Thea wore a blue, pink, and black long-sleeved plaid shirt with black denim jeans. Her hair was soaked, though this time from the shower instead of the rain, and her feet were bare. She stood there, frozen in the doorway, her green eyes glued to John's chest as if she was afraid to meet his gaze.
John hesitated for a moment, no doubt picking up on Thea's nervousness, before he walked over to her and held out his hand, "You must be Thea. Hi, I'm John Diggle."
"Hi." Thea just stared at his hand as if he were offering her a deadly viper instead of a means of introduction. She made no move to take his offered hand and, eventually, he dropped it back to his side.
Oliver cleared his throat to break the awkward silence that engulfed the trio. "I met John when I came back to Starling City. I hired him as my bodyguard."
That earned him Thea's focus. "Bodyguard?"
It was John who answered, "There were idiots out there that thought they could take advantage of your brother's notoriety and kidnap him for ransom."
"It was a precautionary measure," Oliver was quick to assure her, "Why don't John and I go grab our breakfast from the diner? We'll bring it back here and talk about our day, okay?"
Clear apprehension flitted over Thea's features; she was afraid to let him out of her sight. Why this was Oliver couldn't even begin to guess, but it was evident nonetheless. Her eyes flicked over to Diggle briefly before returning to Oliver. "Okay."
Oliver wanted to question why she seemed uneasy suddenly, but there wasn't time for that. John was already heading towards the door to their suite and Thea was turning away from him, heading back to the bathroom. "Want your standard breakfast order, Speedy?"
"Please."
Of course she did. Every morning, without fail, she ordered the same thing from the diner down the street: two waffles with a huge dollop of whipped cream on top. It wasn't the healthiest breakfast choice available, but Oliver considered himself lucky that Thea was gaining both an appetite and the courage to give voice to her wants. That was progress enough for now.
"Okay, two waffles with whipped cream it is." He confirmed with a soft smile, moving to press a kiss to her forehead. Remembering at the last moment to grab his wallet and room key, Oliver joined John at the door. "We'll be back in half an hour, an hour tops. Don't open this door, not for anyone, got it?"
Thea huffed, rolling her eyes for effect, "Just go. I'll be fine. It's just an hour."
Taking Thea's bravado for what little reassurance it offered, Oliver left their suite, closing the door behind him as he did so. Both he and John stayed quiet as they got into the elevator and arrived at the lobby. That, however, was as long as John was willing to wait for answers.
"Okay, what is going on, Oliver? That was," he waved a hand back towards the elevator as they exited the building, "weird. You two were acting like hitmen were going to burst through the door or something."
"It's complicated, Digg, and it's not my story to tell." Before John could complain about his lack of communication, Oliver sighed, "but I'll tell you what I can...when we get to the diner." It didn't take them long to walk to the business in question, but Oliver needed the few precious minutes to figure out what he could share with John and how to start explaining all that happened since he left Starling City.
A bell tinkled as Oliver pushed open the door, every worker in the place turning to look at them as they walked inside. Given the late hour of the morning, there was a few patrons in the red leather booths and even half-asleep people at the long counter, but still Oliver was greeted pleasantly.
"Mornin' Oliver," the man behind the worktop called, continuing to stack the plastic Pepsi cups as he did so, "your booth's ready and waitin' for you."
"Thanks, Joe."
Oliver made his way across the white tile floor to the red leather booth at the far end of the restaurant. John followed behind him silently, both sliding into opposite sides. The leather squeaked underneath their weight, but neither made mention of it. Almost immediately an older woman came up to the table. She looked between the two men, a small crinkle appeared between her eyebrows as she set the laminated menus down on the tabletop, "No Thea today?"
"She wanted to sleep in."
"So, I should put in a to-go order for her waffles, right?"
"That'd be great, Melissa, thank you."
The two men pursued the slightly sticky diner menus quickly and placed their orders with the waitress. They chatted about the state of things in Starling City, and the people he'd left behind in his quest for his family, until Melissa returned. They fell silent as they prepared their drinks and dug into their meals.
"So, what's with all the vague texts and calls? Why do you need your suit? Surely, your father's list doesn't include criminals in Virginia."
"It doesn't. This mission is a personal matter."
John pointed at him with his fork, a bit of egg dangling from it, "There you go being vague again."
Oliver sighed; John was right, of course, but that didn't make it any easier to lower his walls. "It's for Thea. She deserves justice."
"Justice? For what?"
Oliver struggled with how to respond. He would have to tell John something; an explanation was both needed and deserved, but how much could be shared without betraying Thea's confidence? She'd trusted him with private details of what she had been through and sharing that seemed wrong, even though Oliver trusted John as much as possible.
"I don't know much about her side of things," he admitted with no small amount of trepidation in his voice, "but I can tell you what has happened to me since I arrived." That seemed like a fair compromise between Thea's privacy and John's right to know. His experiences were his own to share as he saw fit.
For the next half an hour, the two men consumed their breakfast and drank their coffee while Oliver told his tale quietly. He described his uneasy feeling upon reaching Foxworth Hall, the two sides of his mother that still perplexed him, his stern and disapproving grandmother who had seemed to hate him simply because he'd come to visit Moira.
"When I asked my mother where Thea was, she told me that Thea had killed herself before they arrived in Virginia."
A look of confusion came over John's face as he picked up his lukewarm coffee cup, "What? Why would she even say that?"
"I don't know. I honestly don't. Ever since I reconnected with Thea, I've been asking myself that very same question. Who says that about their own child? It's just…wrong."
With that discussed, John listened with rapt attention as Oliver described the tense dinner with the grandfather and the insistence that he stay the night. He even shared the strange late-night conversation with his mother.
"So wait, that's why she told her mother that your name was Jonas Quentin? Because her parents disapproved of her marriage to your father?"
He shrugged, picking up his half-empty mug and taking a sip, "She's afraid that if he knew about me, he'd disinherit her again and everything she'd put up with for years would be for nothing."
John paused, thinking it over, "But why? I mean, Thea lived there so he had to be okay with the marriage, right? He can't still think you two are evil, can he? Not after having lived for years getting to know your sister."
Oliver had purposefully omitted a particular fact, "He never knew she was there. As soon as they arrived at Foxworth Hall, Thea was hidden away."
"What? That's insane."
Oliver went on to describe how the bedroom was immaculate and empty, no sign of the picnic basket that he'd seen Olivia carry in. How he'd accidentally found the entrance to the attic in the closet and the images that had been depicted on almost every available surface. "Thea was on her hands and knees, drawing with a pencil nub on the floorboards. When I tried to get her attention, for some reason, she punched me."
"Why'd she do that?"
"I've never asked, but it certainly wasn't the reunion I'd been expecting."
John leaned back, the leather of the booth squeaking in protest, "she really spent four years in just one room?"
Oliver nodded, "Just that room, the attached bathroom and the attic, yes."
"Jesus," John muttered, his hand coming up to scrub at his face. They lapsed into silence and the eldest Queen heir figured that he was trying to piece everything together: Thea's appearance, his request for a doctor, the fact that he'd asked for his suit. Oliver trusted that John'd figure it all out.
Finally, the older man asked in a slow voice, "what about your mother? Your grandmother? How could they allow her to spend years in that room?"
Oliver's fists clenched against his thighs beneath the table. His anger hadn't diminished at all in the days since he'd discovered Thea, it had simply been pushed away so he could better take care of her needs. John's questions, however, brought Oliver's fury back to the forefront. "I plan to find out…"
John stayed quiet and that odd reaction compelled Oliver to ask, "Aren't you going to lecture me? Tell me to let the justice system deal with it legally?"
"No."
"No?"
"If you go to the police, Thea will live under the shadow of this forever; that's no life. Besides, it'll be just her word against theirs… No, this is something for you to deal with."
Oliver and John parted ways in the elevator, John disembarking two floors below the one on which the Queen siblings resided. The men agreed to meet up later after John took a nap. By the time that Oliver reached their suite, Thea was nowhere to be seen. The bed was neatly made and everything was in place; the silence was unnerving and he felt fear grip his heart. Had Thea's fears finally come true? Has Mom finally come and taken her back to the attic?
Before his panic could escalate, he heard a slight scuffling coming from inside the closet. He pulled the trifold doors slowly, the bottom of the wood getting caught briefly on a plastic-coated golden wire. Huddled in the far corner of the closet, with her knees pulled tight to her chest, was Thea. A standard hotel Bible with its black leather covering rested upon her thighs and one of the hotel lamps was turned on, sitting on the carpeted floor by the toes of her shoes. "Why are you in the closet, Speedy?"
She looked up, eyes wide with shock and surprise, "Ollie. I didn't hear you come in."
"That doesn't answer my question."
Thea shrugged, closed the Bible, and stood up, still holding the book in her left hand, "Just like it in here, that's all."
Oliver stepped aside to let her out of the enclosed space, picked up the lamp (she must have moved it so she could read,) and placed it on the kitchenette's counter. Thea spotted the food containers he'd placed on the nightstand, set the Bible on the bed and picked up one of the Styrofoam containers. The chocolate milk sloshed inside the takeout glass as she took a small sip. Undoing the tabs holding the lid on her waffles closed, Thea looked down at her breakfast and he handed over a set of plastic silverware. She cut the morning food into bite sized pieces before taking the plastic lid off the round container and dumped the contents onto her food.
"Where's your friend?"
"He went to get some rest. Jetlag is killing him."
She chewed two squares of waffle, "So, why's he here?"
Oliver's lips tipped upwards, watching as his sister dug into her breakfast with gusto. At least Thea was eating without hesitation today. "He just wanted to check in with me."
A look of skepticism was clearly written on her face, "That's what cellphones are for."
"He says that I've been cagey on our phone calls. When put together with the fact that I had him call in a favor without giving a reason, he figured that the only way he'd get the truth out of me was to show up here unannounced and not leave until I talked."
It was the best answer that he could give her; it was not a lie, but not strictly the truth either. Telling Thea what he was planning wasn't an option. She would try to stop him for one reason or another and Oliver refused to be stopped. If she knew what he intended to do, she would just worry endlessly and she was dealing with too much already. There was no way in hell that he was giving her another reason to be concerned.
Thea was quiet for several minutes. To anyone else it would seem like she was just focusing on eating her breakfast, but Oliver knew better. He could practically hear the wheels turning in her brain.
"That's it? He just wanted to check in with you?"
He made a vague noise, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, "Well that, and anytime is a good time for a vacation."
She didn't look wholly convinced, but allowed the matter to be dropped. She ate her whip cream drenched waffles while her eyes and attention returned to the old episode of Mighty Morphin' Power Rangers airing on the TV.
Oliver was immensely grateful for the companionable silence that followed. Before his plans had simply been his private thoughts. Now that he'd let John in on his desire to see justice done, it was real. With John on board, whose council Oliver often considered equal to his own conscience, it became a reality. As such he knew that he needed a solid plan with as few variables as possible. He couldn't just barge into their grand estate without a thought and take them down. This act of righteousness needed forethought, calculation and finesse. Taking Thea's justice from vague daydream to reality was going to take time and planning.
"Is there anything you'd like to do today?" Oliver asked, apropos of nothing.
Thea shook her head in the negative.
"I was thinking that we could stop at an art store and get you whatever you need to keep drawing. Then we could spend the day at the botanical gardens."
Her green eyes lit up, "I could draw the flowers…"
A smile crinkled the skin around his eyes, "That's what I was thinking too."
Thea hurriedly finished her waffles, downed her chocolate milk, and tossed the three empty containers in the trashcan tucked under the bar's sink. She declared suddenly, "I'm ready!"
Oliver chuckled, sitting down beside her on the bed, "There's no rush, Speedy. We have all day."
"The light, Ollie. It'll make my pictures better."
That was a point that he hadn't considered, but then he wasn't the artistic type. He was more strategy and brute strength. Seeing the beauty in the world around him wasn't something he was good at it. If his sister believed that the light of the sun would somehow make her drawings even better, who was he to say differently?
"We'll have to make a few other stops," he said as he stood, patting his back pocket to make sure that his wallet was still within. His cellphone was a constant weight in his back pocket so there was no need to check it. "Get some drinks, sunscreen…"
Her skin was still far too fair in color. If she was to spend hours in the sun, he would protect her however he could. The doctor's words were still on his mind; Oliver would make damn sure that nothing was going to put her health in jeopardy, not even her jubilation at spending time outside.
Thea didn't seem to care how many detours they would have to make on the way to the garden. She just appeared eager to head there. It warmed his heart that she could find such joy in his offhand suggestion.
It was nearly one thirty when the siblings made their way out of the visitor's center at Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden. Thea held her plastic bag of art supplies loosely in her right hand as they walked, while Oliver carried the map they'd grabbed upon arrival. His eyes squinted in the afternoon sun, trying to decipher the piece of paper. Maps had always seemed to look like Greek to him sadly.
"Having trouble finding the yellow brick road?" Thea stood on her tiptoes to peer over his arm to look at the map he held. The brim of the baseball cap she wore, that he'd purchased for her at Wawa on their ride to the garden, provided some semblance of shadow onto the glossy paper. "I think we should go left."
Re-folding the map, the two Queens began to walk left, having already concocted a game plan for how they would go about this in the twenty-three minute car ride. Thea wanted to walk through the garden once in its entirety so she could get a feel for what it was she wished to draw. Oliver wasn't entirely convinced that Thea's body could handle walking the whole length of the 50-acre garden, but if she wanted to try he wasn't about to stop her. He would, however, keep an eye on it and insist on frequent stops if he noticed any fatigue.
The day was cold, but not bitterly so, making Oliver huddle only a little into his jacket that he wore as they walked down the path. Thea was silent, but her eyes were alight as she looked at the various flowers that they came upon. Occasionally, she stopped, got as close to the blooms and buds as she could without breaking any of the rules and examined the hearty flowers with an artist's eye. Oliver wasn't quite sure what she was looking for, but he'd never been the creative type. To his well-hidden surprise, Thea managed to complete the entire walk without a complaint, though she did seem to slow down quite a bit as they reached the conservatory.
The all-glass and metal building stood out, not only for its vastly different construction than the rest of the buildings on the property, but also because of the big dome protruding from the roof. It could be seen from almost anywhere within the gardens, making it a natural meeting place for groups. The cold whether seemed to make this even more true as people were pouring into the main entrance of the conservatory than they'd seen anywhere else in the gardens.
"Let's sit a minute, catch our breath and get warm before we go see the orchids?" It was a suggestion that he made carefully, hoping not to offend her pride in any way. If Thea pushed her body out of sheer stubbornness, she would only end up hurting herself. She wanted to be back to what she once was and Oliver could fully understand that, but trying to rush it was dangerous.
Either Thea didn't suspect his true motivation or she realized the necessity of rest. Together they entered the building, trying desperately to avoid bumping into any of the strangers milling about just inside the doors, and were immediately awash in the green house's heat. There were no benches within their immediate vicinity, which Oliver did think was a design flaw, so they were forced to find an unoccupied spot along the glass wall and sit on the ground. A couple of their fellow patrons eyed them oddly, but he'd learned long ago to ignore unwanted attention. After all, it wasn't his fault that the circular foyer lacked benches.
Thea opened the plastic bag on her lap and removed the cardboard box of pencils from it. There was an upturn to her lips that he didn't understand. It was a standard box of 50 Crayola colored pencils, nothing special and certainly not worthy of the look in her eyes. She ran the tips of her fingers slowly over the wooden pencils where they peeked out of the box's window.
"Mom brought me colored pencils once. Paints too. I used all of them as sparingly as I could. I never knew when I'd see Mom again to ask for more. No matter how I tried to make them last, eventually they were all gone." The brightly, multi-colored Crayola seemed to have her enraptured, but still she explained, "I never thought I'd get to draw in color again."
Her words conjured images in his mind of portraits drawn on wooden walls with only touches of color on the important elements: reds or pinks on lips, varying colors and shades for everyone's eyes, and a light application of tan or peach to their facial contours. He remembered dust motes floating in the air of the dim light of that attic. Thea knelt upon the weak wooden floorboards, drawing a picture of her own headstone with just a nub of a #2 pencil.
That's over now, Oliver reminded himself firmly as he returned his full attention to the present. She's out and safe, that's all that matters. Suffering like that was in her past and he was going to guarantee it even if he had to burn the rest of the world down to do so. No longer would she want for a single thing or feel forgotten. For years, she'd been swept aside, no one to see to her or even care, but he was here now and she was his priority. Nothing else will come before her ever again. Nothing could.
Needing to distract himself from that sudden and intense realization, Oliver changed the topic abruptly, "Have you found anything you might want to draw yet, Speedy?"
She nodded, returning the colored pencil box to the plastic bag that she carried, "I really liked the colors of the Golden Rule Hypericum." He searched his memory for the flora. It had to be one of the ones that Thea stopped to read its little placard, but that didn't narrow the options down much.
His face must have given away that he had no idea which plant she meant because she elaborated without prompting, "It's the red, orange, yellow, flower-thing by the one lake… you know, on the cherry blossom walk?"
He had a vague recollection of what she was talking about now and it was quite a distance away from the conservatory. If she was up for the trek back there though, then Oliver certainly wasn't going to object. He had to trust that she knew what she could handle physically.
"But I would kind of like to look through this building first, if that's okay?"
"Of course."
They stayed there for a few minutes more, just catching their breath and trying to absorb the warmth of the conservatory after the chill of late January, before Oliver climbed to his feet and offered his hand to Thea. She took it with a small, grateful smile and stood. The plastic bag, that was looped over her right wrist by way of its handles, made some noise as they walked further into the building, but no one seemed to pay it any mind.
The flowers and various plant life were in a beautiful array of colors and types as they followed the flow of people. The bright orange and vivid purple of the Bird of Paradise caught Thea's eye as they entered the Dome House of the Conservatory. Oliver stepped to the side to stay with her as the stream of visitors moved around them.
"Look at these colors," Thea said in a soft voice, "they're so…intense." She circled around the edge of the flowerbed, leaning this way and that.
"They are beautiful," Oliver agreed simply unable to offer anything more substantial.
Thea nodded absentmindedly as she knelt on her left knee. She tucked her lengthy hair behind the shell of her ear and tilted her head to the right a little. "This one would be a good subject," she pointed to a fully blossomed bud about six inches from the edge of the flowerbed, "it's got a slight imperfection on its bottom most petal so that it doesn't look too perfect."
If he was being completely honest, Oliver didn't quite understand why it was a good thing that the flower had an imperfection. He did agree, however, that it was quite unique and he could see why it had captured Thea's artistic mind.
Eventually the siblings fell back into the flow of foot traffic as it entered the west portion of the building. Thea stopped dead in her tracks soon after, though, causing several people to bump into her back and grumble, at the sight of a real thatched cottage in the center of the room. Oliver gently but firmly pulled her from the crowd milling about.
"You can't just stop in the middle of the walkway, Speedy."
Thea looked at him as if she had just awoken from a dream, all bleary-eyed and confused, "Sorry. I didn't mean- it's just that cottage. I read this book in the attic that had a cottage in it; that's exactly how I pictured it."
Thea was just standing there, staring at the small house with unblinking eyes, and the words were out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying, "Why don't you draw it?"
After examining it from all angles, Thea chose the perspective that she liked best. She took a seat out of the way of the milling people. Oliver stood awkwardly for a few seconds, not knowing what to do with himself as his sister began to unpack her art supplies. Should he take a seat beside her and just stay quiet while she worked or sit somewhere else?
As if sensing his dilemma, Thea looked up from her new sketchbook, "I'm not used to drawing while people watch me, Ollie."
"Okay, I'll just be over there," he pointed over his shoulder to an empty space within her eyeline, "if you need me."
Thea nodded, but Oliver suspected that she barely heard him. Her attention was already on her task. He was more than happy to leave her to it, making his way across the large room. He removed her diary from his waistband and set it down on the floor before sitting down. He made sure to keep himself in her eyeline; both for her peace of mind and his own. As if she heard his reasons, Thea looked up and smiled gently.
Once her attention returned to her new sketchbook, Oliver took his cellphone out and opened his text thread with John: We're at the Lewis Ginter Botanical Garden if you want to join us when you wake up. With that message sent, he picked up the journal. He flipped the book open to the last entry that he read and turned to the next page.
Dear Ollie,
Sorry I've not written in a few days. I can't tell the days apart anymore, they all blend together into one long endless day. Nothing ever changes. It's gotten to the point where I dread waking up in the mornings. I know it will be exactly as it was the day before and the day before that and the day before that. I can't stop the hopelessness that I feel and no matter what I do, nothing ever changes. Every morning I ask myself, can I really live like this? Day in, day out? Can I truly spend my life like this?
Oliver's heart plummeted as he read about Thea's growing depression. Her thoughts were turning suicidal. Needing to yet again assure himself that she was, in fact, still alive and with him, he raised his blue eyes, seeking her out. She was exactly where he'd left her, tongue peeking out from between her lips, brow furrowed as her hand moved over the page. It was reassuring to see her so, but the words written in her diary were haunting. She should never have had to feel that way.
But I cannot give into the endlessness either. I know that you'll be back one day and when that time comes, I have to be here…though how I'll know when that happens, I have no idea, but that doesn't matter. I just have to be here.
Thursday's the only day that is ever different. Yes, I have to stay in the attic for hours, but at least I can hear voices. I learn things about the world outside my small room on Thursdays. Today I heard one of the maids talking about Mom. What she said was not nice and I'm not going to write it down. At least her words prove that she's still alive. That's something…isn't it? I've been doing everything I can not to think about the what-ifs, but they never vanish completely from my mind, you know? Now at least I know Mom's fine. She's just been busy, that's all…
I'm not a forgotten ghost haunting this attic yet.
Speedy
Oliver read letter after letter, entry after entry, as minutes became an hour and then two. He looked up every few pages to make sure that Thea was still happily drawing. If he was being honest, it was for himself that he visually checked upon her. He needed the distraction and reminder that she was indeed there with him.
Her diary chronicled her life in that attic room, but also, alarmingly, her obvious descent into a deep depression as well. Her entries were emotionally erratic, going from happy memories or ponderings about flowers to concerns about whether her body would ever be found or if she would just become another forgotten thing in the crowded space. While it was a subtle progression when it was happening, no doubt going unnoticed by Thea herself for a while, if she ever realized it at all. It was frightening to read, made even more obvious when read like a book.
Suddenly, Oliver regretted dismissing the doctor's well-meant suggestion of getting Thea a therapist. At the time, he'd thought that, together, they would heal the mental wounds that they had both suffered. The further that he read, the more apparent it became that Thea would need more than just his love and support.
It was foolish of him to ever have assumed otherwise.
The slight sound his phone made as it vibrated on the linoleum floor drew Oliver's attention from the journal resting upon his thighs. He picked the device up and saw a text from John: I'll be there in 30-45 mins. A botanical garden?
Oliver replied quickly: It got Thea to leave our hotel room and she likes flowers.
With that sent, he picked her journal up once again.
Dear Oliver,
Every night, when Grandmother comes to pick up the picnic basket, she makes me recite a passage from the Old Testament Bible that she keeps in the nightstand. She says that knowing the great book is to truly know the Lord. But knowing the Lord isn't any source of comfort for me. God, in her Bible, is a vengeful, angry being, not at all like the God that our pastor talked about on Christmas. I didn't want to believe in her Bible, in her God, but the more I read, the more I recite for her, the more I begin to believe her angry God was the true God.
Our God, the one of grace and mercy, would never have taken you and Daddy away. He would never have taken our home or made us live in this horrible mansion. Her God, however, would. He'd even me put in this attic. It's punishment; all of it, and that's when I realized why Grandmother is making me recite passages to her. She's teaching me why I'm being punished. Why God is so angry with me.
She says that God never wanted Mom to marry Daddy. That without Grandfather's approval, Mom risked God's wrath. Grandmother says that I shouldn't exist, that I am the Devil's spawn. That's why I'm trapped here, because I was never one of God's children. Our parents broke God's will and so he's punishing all of us. Grandmother claims I should pray, pray with every breath for his forgiveness.
But why should I have to beg for God's mercy? The sins of our parents aren't ours, right? I don't want to be the Devil's spawn. I don't want to be punished anymore for things that I never did, that we never did. I've never done anything to earn God's anger. I'm just a girl, that's all.
Thea
Oliver's mind was a whirl of thoughts and his chest was tight with ugly emotions. Suddenly he understood why he'd found Thea reading the hotel's Bible in the closet that morning. It was perfectly reasonable why, given the circumstances she described, she would give serious thought to God. Especially when one considered all the time she'd had to think while she was in that attic room. Thea had probably thought a great deal on many topics. What did concern him though was Olivia's transcribed words and the conclusions that Thea had drawn in response to them.
Calling Thea 'devil's spawn' and telling her that she shouldn't exist was horrifying. That wasn't something that anyone, especially not one who was so young and impressionable, should hear. Following those assertions, with claims that she was being punished for something that neither he nor Thea had anything to do with, was just making matters worse. Oliver wanted so badly to go over to his little sister, pull her into a bone-crushing hug, and assure her until his voice gave way that God loved her and he wasn't punishing her. She'd done nothing to be punished for.
Anger burned bright inside of him as he thought about the emotional trauma she'd endured over the years. How dare Olivia put such thoughts and worries in Thea's impressionable mind? How could the old croon justify making her own granddaughter doubt her right to exist? What right did she have to judge Thea's worth?
When the intense emotions finally ebbed away enough, Oliver opened his eyes, surprised to find them shut in the first place; he certainly didn't remember closing them. Instinctively, his eyes found Thea across the room. She was looking right back at him too, her head tilted slightly in concern.
She mouthed, "You okay?"
"Yeah," he mouthed back, forcing a smile.
Thea didn't look convinced, but her art supplies, encircling her on the floor, kept her from coming over. He wished so badly that he could undo the harm that had been done. Her early teen years should not have been lost as they were. She should've had the chance to be a teenager; sneaking out, making friends, doing shit just because. It was all a part of the joys of growing up and discovering who you wanted to be. Thea had been robbed of all of that just because their mother couldn't stomach the thought of being less than rich. Moira didn't bear all the guilt, though. He was responsible as well.
It was a blame that weighed on his heart especially when he was faced with the consequences of his actions. If he'd been brave enough to end his relationship with Laurel using words. Instead he used actions, taking Sara on the Gambit, as a crystal-clear sign. Put simply, his cowardice kept him from being there to save Thea from that attic room.
No amount of wishful thinking or hindsight on his part would change anything. He needed to start focusing on the future and what he could do to make both of their lives better. No longer did they simply need to survive; now they had to thrive. Step one in that regard was to stop staying in hotels. It was like the two of them were existing in limbo, constantly waiting for some unknown calamity that would drag them both back to their personal hells; that was not living. Thea deserve to truly leave that attic and he needed to leave Lian Yu in his past. He was done being haunted by stupid choices and regrettable decisions. It was time to rejoin the world.
The phone vibrated again: here, where are you?
He responded: Conservatory. Once inside just follow the path.
Instead of returning his attention to the journal, Oliver let his thoughts wander to nothing in particular. He leaned his head back against the wall, allowing the sounds of the Conservatory to lull him into a calm state. Oliver knew that his employed bodyguard had found him before he even opened his eyes, the heavy footfalls coming to a stop beside him a dead giveaway.
"I thought I was the one with jetlag," John said as he moved around Oliver to take a seat on his left side, "Grow bored of looking at flowers in the cold?"
"No, Thea wanted to draw the little hut first…" He tilted his head towards the older man lazily, "Who am I to deny an artist's eye?"
As if she heard them talking about her, or maybe she simply felt their gazes, Thea looked up from her sketchbook. There was a bright green colored pencil stuck behind her right ear and a small smile teasing at her lips; in a split second though, that faded from her face and into a slight frown, as her eyes moved from him to John. Her focus returned to her drawing, but Oliver couldn't get past the downturn of her lips.
"I get the feeling your sister doesn't like me."
John's tone was casual, but Oliver was aware he was bothered by Thea's apparent dislike. He certainly wasn't the only one. Her whole life Thea had been a happy girl, eager to make friends with everyone. In fact, it had been such an issue that, before she started first grade, all four members of their family sat down to discuss it.
Of course, as soon as he thought that, he recognized his glaring error. Theo wasn't that girl anymore. What she'd gone through had changed her, changed that aspect of her personality. Hell, the last person she'd met was Olivia. He could just imagine thirteen-year-old Thea, having arrived at Foxworth Hall in the middle of the night, exhausted physically and emotionally. In his mind, she tentatively attempted to endear herself to their stern-face grandmother despite physical cues the older woman had probably been displaying. To have that final gesture of friendship so horribly answered would close anyone off to the world.
"It's not you, Dig." Oliver assured after a too long moment, "New people… It'll just take her a while. Besides, I have it on good authority that keeping you at a distance is impossible."
From there, the two men began to truly discuss the intricacies of what they would need to bring hell upon the Foxworths. John provided a much-needed cooler head, insisting on the logical when Oliver would just barrel in and damn the consequences. John pointed out they needed to perform reconnaissance. They had to know when the Foxworths were home, when the fewest amount of employed help would be present in the residence. They needed information before he could get Thea's retribution without interference.
"I'm done," the sound of Thea's voice drew the men out of their hushed plotting. Her head was tilted downward, not meaning their eyes, and the sketchbook was clutched tightly to her chest, like a makeshift shield. The plastic bag was looped loosely on her forearm again and it crinkled against her hip where it rested. There was something going on in her head and Oliver couldn't tell what it was.
"Do you want to go see that flower now?" Oliver climbed to his feet, John following suit. Absentmindedly, they both brushed invisible dirt from their trousers.
"Could we," her voice was barely a whisper, halting almost to the point of stuttering. Her eyes flicked to John for a moment before sliding away quickly, "maybe get something to eat first?"
The inexplicable reversion of his sister was both mystifying and worrying; she'd made such progress in the last few days and now it seemed that was all undone. "Yeah, of course. Is the Garden Café alright?"
"That's fine."
Silently, the trio left the glass building behind; John falling into step on Oliver's right and Thea took up position on her brother's left. Though her stride was shorter than those of the men beside her, she managed to keep pace well enough. It was a small hike from the Conservatory back towards the visitor's center where they'd seen a café earlier.
When they entered the Garden Café, it wasn't empty like he had hoped given the unusual hour of their meal, but it wasn't overly busy either. There was an elderly couple in the far corner and a few other taken tables both in and outside. John left their group and made his way up to the long 'L' shaped self-serve counter, perusing the options with zeal. Oliver and Thea were slower to make their way to the metal worktop, peering over the glass hood, the names of the food beneath written in various neon colors upon it, that protected the edible items.
"See anything you want?" Oliver asked passively as they both sidestepped slowly down the line.
Thea shrugged a little, her sketchbook still clutched to her chest, and Oliver simply took it for the nonverbal answer that it was. They continued until they reached the last option. When they reached the cash register, Oliver paid for all three meals before John could even open his mouth to object.
"Thanks," he responded, nodding to Oliver as they headed towards the tables.
"Inside or out, Speedy?"
"Outside."
John held the door open for the siblings and they sat their items down at the nearest unoccupied wood table before taking seats. Thea set her plastic bag down in the empty fourth chair and placed her sketchbook on top.
For several minutes, all three of them were quiet as they opened their various foods and began eating. As Oliver took a bite of the turkey sandwich on his plate, he realized just how hungry he was. He hadn't thought that Thea had been drawing for so long, but apparently, it had been enough time for hunger to set in. After he consumed enough to sate his hunger, Oliver wiped his mouth with the napkin that his pre-packaged silverware provided and looked over at Thea. She was staring down at the salad she'd grabbed, using her fork to push the lettuce around the small plastic bowl. The salad dressing sat unopened on the tabletop.
"Everything okay with your salad, Thea?"
"Yeah. It's fine."
John spoke up then, "You know it won't play back with you, right?"
It was just a little joke, but Thea's body language spoke volumes. Her spine straightened and her fork stabbed rather viciously into the lettuce. She shoved the forkful into her mouth and started chewing it without another word.
Oliver threw her a confused look, but soon engaged John in a discussion since it appeared Thea wasn't in the mood to be conversational. By the time that they'd polished off the last bite of their quick lunches, Oliver could see that the day was beginning to tire both of his companions. "You two look well and truly worn out."
"You try flying from California to Virginia and only taking a short nap before going out again," John countered grumpily.
Thea, on the other hand, said nothing, just gave him a look that wasn't hard for him to interpret. It declared, 'this is the most time I've spent in fresh air in over four years…' or perhaps he was projecting.
"Do you want to go back to the hotel?" Presuming something was a dangerous pastime, particularly when Thea was involved. His sister was many things, but predictable was not one of them.
After a silent minute, in which Oliver suspected that the older man was waiting for Thea to answer, John finally said, "Well, I wouldn't mind looking around here. I came straight to the Conservatory. Might as well take the time to check this place out."
Thea picked up her bottle of water and took a long, slow sip before speaking up. "I could draw that flower." Her fingers fiddled absently with the little white ring of plastic around the bottle's neck, "You can walk around with Mister Diggle while I draw, if you want. I know it's boring to just sit there and watch me scribble."
It was an odd thing for her to say. Since he'd found her, Thea hadn't exactly been comfortable with them separating. She had looked out of the dressing rooms, checking for him continually. Then, even when she'd been drawing the hut, he had caught her looking over at him to make sure that he was still there. That morning, when she'd given the okay for him to leave her alone to get breakfast, it had seemed like a step in the right direction. He reasoned that she was comfortable with it because she'd be in their safe hotel room and she knew where he was headed. It was a safe, repetitive, activity. Something predictable. This wasn't like that. This would be him leaving her on her own in a strange place. Why was she suddenly okay with that? It didn't seem like something she would agree to. Just another piece to the puzzle...
"Watching you draw isn't boring, Speedy," Oliver reached out and stilled her hand, waiting until she raised her eyes before continuing, "It's…inspiring to see how invested you get as you work. It makes you look calmer, less stressed."
Having said that, however, he realized that perhaps it was unwise to squash this bout of independence that she was displaying. If she was feeling up to being by herself in an unfamiliar place, that was a good thing. I should encourage it…shouldn't I? For some reason, though, the idea of their parting made him...uneasy. But he knew that embracing his own unwillingness would be unfair of him. He should support her independence, not hinder it.
He squeezed her fingers gently before letting go of her hand, "But if you want me to go with Diggle, I will. It's up to you, Thea."
Her brow furrowed as she weighed the options in her mind. It was a long moment as they waited for the young woman to come to a decision. When she finally spoke, Thea's voice was only slightly pained, "I don't want you to be bored, Ollie." The plastic of the bottle crinkled beneath her nervous hands. "Besides, Mister Diggle came all the way across the country to see you, not to walk alone through a garden."
It was a valid point; yet, he could see that it cost her a great deal to just say it. Obviously, she was not certain of her decision, but she'd been brave enough to choose it anyway. The least he could do was to abide the decision that had been made.
"Okay," he agreed, "but I want you to take my cellphone with you…in case you need me." He reached into his front pocket, slid his iPhone out and set it in front of her on the tabletop.
"I don't know how to use that."
"I'll show you," He scooted his chair a little closer and showed her how to use the most basic functions of his smartphone. By the time the mini-lesson concluded, Thea was looking at the small device as though it was an alien, but she seemed rather fascinated with it nonetheless. "When you're finished drawing, just call John's phone, he's Diggle in my contacts, and we'll all meet up to head back to the hotel."
"Alright," Thea gathered up her plastic bag and once again slid the handles over her forearm. Without a word, Oliver took her journal and slipped it into her bag. Thea noticed, but said nothing, picking up his cellphone and holding it tightly. She stood up slowly, the legs of her chair scraping against the concrete ground beneath, "I'll call John."
"Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"
Her smile was weak, "I'm sure."
"Alright, have fun, Speedy." He watched as she walked away, keeping track of her until she faded from view. He studiously ignored the worry that sought to plague his mind.
"She'll be fine, Oliver. She's an adult."
That simple statement, surely said to many nervous fathers and older brothers since the beginning of time, gave voice to Oliver's biggest concern for his sister. Physically she appeared seventeen (or rather, relatively so, since her confinement had affected her growth and general health,) but mentally and emotionally? She'd stopped aging at fourteen. Without him there to act as a buffer, Thea could get in over her head.
A sickening thought occurred to him then. What if a man approaches her for adult activities? Thea won't understand. She's only got the social skills of a child. Oh God.
"Dig, I have to go after her," Oliver bolted up from his seat with enough force to send the chair skittering backwards.
John's eyes grew wide with alarm at Oliver's abrupt motion. He began scanning their surroundings and the sparse crowd for possible threats. "What? Why?"
"She might be seventeen, but inside she's only fourteen. What if someone tries to snatch her? What if a guy tries..." He literally couldn't get the words out. The mere notion was simply too horrible. His hands clenched into fists at his side. If anyone dares to touch her with so much as a pinkie...
"It's a large garden, man, not some seedy nightclub. She'll be fine." A heavy hand landed on his shoulder in companionship, "You can't be with her twenty-four seven."
Oliver looked at him and raised a single, daring eyebrow.
"Okay, you could. And probably would," John was forced to amend quickly, "But you shouldn't."
"Why?"
"Because she's a teenage girl, Oliver, and everyone needs space. Privacy. You, of all people, should understand that need."
"But-"
"But nothing," John squeezed his shoulder for a moment, "just let her be alone here for a while in the relative safety of the garden. She'll be fine…and you can tell me about our targets."
"Our?" Oliver echoed, shrugging the hand off with a tentative grin, "Last I checked I'm the only one suiting up."
John smiled and pushed in his chair, shaking his head as if to disregard Oliver's assumption. "Come on, let's go look at some flowers."
An hour later, the two men were debating whether to ask Felicity to get the blueprints for Foxworth. John was for it; getting the information from her would be easier and faster. If they went to the courthouse and asked, there was a chance word could get back to their targets. Oliver, however wasn't sure that asking Felicity was a good idea. If they did, she would demand explanations and he wasn't willing to share Thea's story with any more people. Logic sided with John on this one, but Oliver didn't have to admit that just yet. Their conversation was interrupted by John's ringing cell phone.
When he took the device from his pocket, Oliver's name was written across the screen in big letters. Without a thought, he passed the phone to the younger man, sliding his finger across the screen in the process to accept the call.
"Hey Speedy, done drawing?"
"Mhmm. Where should we meet up?"
"The visitor's center? We'll meet there and all head to the car together."
"Okay."
The call was ended so abruptly that he pulled the phone from his ear and frowned down at it. Something was going on with Thea; Oliver couldn't deny it anymore. The two men fell silent as they changed direction, heading back towards the visitor's center. Thea was just entering the side door as they came up to the building. Jogging to catch up, Oliver reached out to touch her elbow as he came to a stop.
The instant his palm met her elbow Thea whirled around. Her eyes were wide with panic as she lashed out. Only his quick reflexes saved Oliver from a forearm to his eye socket. "Thea, it's me."
For a few seconds, Thea was completely still. It was like she was frozen, but her eyes still broadcast terror. "Ollie," her voice was croaky, arm falling slowly back to her side again, "you scared me."
His face was purposefully blank, "really? You don't say."
A tentative smile played at her lips. "Sorry, I didn't know it was you. I thought a stranger was grabbing me…"
This statement validated his belief that she hadn't wanted to be left alone. "It's all right. Did you find that flower thing you wanted to draw?"
She nodded.
"Can we see what you drew?" John asked, reminding both siblings that he was there.
Thea bit her bottom lip, looking down at the sketchbook clutched to her chest. After a tense second, she shrugged and handed it over.
The first page was a drawing of the little hut from the conservatory. Instead of the backdrop of the building itself and various plant life, Thea had depicted it in what appeared to be a sunny meadow on the edge of a forest. Oliver's eyes were drawn to the glowing window of the little building. Inside the frame was the silhouette of a woman stretching upwards presumably to put a dish in a cabinet. Behind her was what appeared to be the silhouette of a male, with his arms wrapped around her waist. There was something domestic, peaceful about it. It was captivating.
John turned the page, trading the hut for a realistic depiction of a single plant. The vibrant cascade of reds, oranges, yellows and greens was so packed onto the paper that it seemed impossible the page hadn't torn. There was no doubt in his mind she'd spent most of their hour apart getting the colors to the right shades. It almost seemed touchable; as though the texture of the petals themselves could be felt through the drawing.
"These are amazing, Thea," Oliver whispered, tearing his gaze from the sketchbook to meet her eyes. She ducked her head slightly, clearly uncertain how to deal with the praise.
"Yes, they're beautiful," John commented, "You've got real talent."
"Thanks."
With the sketchbook safely back into Thea's hands and the baseball cap was once again on her head, the three of them made their way out of the botanical gardens into the parking lot. As soon as they reached the rented vehicle and Oliver unlocked the doors, Thea climbed into the back without even a token protest for the passenger's seat and shut the door. John shot Oliver a look over the roof of the car as if to say, 'see? she hates me.' Oliver shook his head and climbed into the driver's side.
The ride back to their hotel was silent except for the attempts John made to engage Thea in conversation, to which he only received one to three word answers. He had never been a verbose man, but quiet car rides would make anyone chatty, just to fill the silence.
By the time that the two Queens entered their hotel room again, Oliver was both frustrated and concerned. He'd played off John's concerns with his usual wit and easy-going charm, but convincing himself was never so easy.
"Thea," he started, closing the door behind him with the heel of his left foot just as she was making her way further inside, "do you not like Diggle?"
"What? Don't be stupid, Ollie. I don't really know him. How can I have an opinion on him?"
"Then what gives with all the negative looks and silence?"
She rolled her eyes and turned towards the bed, setting her plastic bag down on top of the comforter, "you're imagining things."
"No," Oliver insisted, reaching out and gripping her shoulder, turning her around again. "I'm not. When he joined me in the conservatory, I saw you frown. When he spoke to you, you gave short clipped answers as if you couldn't be bothered to hold a conversation with him. So, I'll ask again: do you not like Diggle?"
"Just leave it alone, please." Her voice was tired, drained, but he was not to be denied. He'd let this go on all day; that was quite long enough.
"Talk to me, Speedy," he coaxed gently, "what's going on in that head of yours? Does Dig make you nervous or something?"
"No, he seems okay."
"Then what is it?" Frustration leaked into his voice despite his best efforts to project patience and compassion. He'd tried to be understanding, but even he had his limits. Not knowing what she was thinking was driving him crazy. He needed to know what the problem was so he could fix it. Apparently, his constant pushing was enough to aggravate his sister.
"Because I know why he's here!" Thea shouted, anger adding a red tinge to her face.
"What?" He reeled back as if he'd been slapped. She couldn't know. There's no way that she could know… Could she? He and John had been very careful about being overheard by anyone, much less Thea herself.
She sighed, taking a tentative seat on the edge of the bed. "Your phone was ringing, it was so loud. I had to answer to make it stop. There was a woman on the other end. I think it might have been the blonde woman from that video call the other day, but I can't be sure."
Oliver knew exactly who was calling him: Felicity. God only knew what the blonde had rambled off when Thea picked up. "And…?"
"She started yelling immediately. She demanded to know if Virginia had somehow become the Twilight Zone because both you and John aren't keeping her in the loop anymore."
Her face scrunched in confusion, "I said, 'uh,' because I didn't know what to say to that. She didn't even hear me speak, I don't think, just began demanding to know when you two are going home."
"That's it?" His tone was cautiously optimistic.
"That's it?!" She echoed furiously, "Oliver, he's here to take you back to California."
"Okay," he dragged the word out slowly. Why does that upset her? At least his secret was still safe. "We don't have to go anywhere, Speedy. Not until you want to leave, all right?"
She sighed, a long exhalation of breath, "that's just it, Ollie. I don't want to go back to Starling City."
"That's fine-"
"Ever."
"What?"
Thea flinched, rubbing her hands over her face. "I remember what Starling City was like before, Ollie. I remember how the paparazzi were always around us: snapping pictures and looming in bushes. We spent our summer in Rome, when I was seven, remember? When we got back to the city just before school started, the paparazzi descended upon us like fruit flies on a trashcan."
"I don't understand. What does that have to do with anything?"
"They'll be on me as soon as we get back. The gossip rags will analyze every picture of me to death. They will point out every change and then they'll want answers. Where have I been the last few years? If I lie, if I say I was in a boarding school or something, they'll dig into it until they find the truth and I've already told you, I don't want that."
"You can't spend your whole life in a hotel room, Thea."
"I know that," Thea said, turning her head to look at him, "I just can't go back to Starling. I'm sorry. I can't." She paused, face carefully blank, "But I also know that you have to."
"I do?"
"Obviously," a small, laughing huff escaping her lips. "John wouldn't be here otherwise. That shriek-y woman wouldn't bother pestering you for a return date if she didn't want you back there. Which, by the way, are you and she like a thing or something?"
"No. Felicity's just a friend."
"Have you told her that?"
"Aren't we getting a bit off-topic here?"
"No." Thea objected and then hastily corrected herself, "Yes. Maybe. I don't know. Whatever."
Oliver chuckled lightly, "So, in this plan of yours where I go back to Starling City, what do you do then?"
A careful blank expression stole over her face, "I…haven't figured that part out just yet, but I-I'll think of something."
"Oh, you'll think of something, huh? That's a real solid plan there, Speedy."
"Look," Thea said, frustration clear in her voice as she leapt to her feet, "I never thought I'd get out of that room, okay? So, excuse me, if I don't have a clue! But I can do this. I must. There's no choice."
Holding out his hands in supplication, he stood slowly, "Woah, Thea, calm down, okay?" He smiled, but it was tense around the edges and Oliver knew that his sister could see it. "You can do anything you want to, I know that."
The anger drained from her body and only then did he dare to place his hands on her shoulders, "You are wrong about one thing, though. I don't have to go back to Starling City."
"But-"
"Just because they want me to go back doesn't mean I want or need to."
"You don't?"
"No, I don't." Slowly, he reached up and tucked her hair behind her right ear. "The truth is that you're right, Speedy. Starling is like a fishbowl, everyone's always judging. Prying into every aspect of our lives. From the moment that I returned from Lian Yu, everyone wanted to know absolutely everything about what I'd been through. It's like they all believe they have a right to my life."
He sighed softly, letting his hands drop back to his sides. "We shouldn't have to live like that. So, if you really don't want to return to Starling City, we won't. We'll pick a place and live there."
An easy smile spread across her lips, "Thank you."
"Can I ask you a question though? In the attic, you seemed excited about going home, but now…"
Thea chuckled, "Starling City isn't home, Ollie. You are."
There was nothing more to say. He simply pulled her into a hug and held on tight. He'd give up his life for his sister. Leaving Starling City behind wasn't even a question. Thea's health and happiness was most important. Nothing else mattered; not to Oliver anyway.
A/N: Hope you all like this chapter.
