22. Moving on

Laurel pressed her knees together, her body turned towards the small airplane window, most of her expression hidden behind large sunglasses. She tried to blend in with the surroundings and disappear amidst the beige décor of the chartered plane.

Initially Thea had claimed the seat across from Laurel, but by now she was spread out on the couch, happily snoozing. And Oliver had used the opportunity to get nearer to her.

As Laurel pretended to sleep, she wondered when it had come to this – her trying to avoid a conversation with Oliver, when before – all she had wanted to do was to talk to him. To get through to him. Maybe, it's because I'm not trying to save him anymore. It sounded pretentious, even in her own head, but… strangely true.

She had always seen so much more in Oliver than he showed the world and she had always tried to get him to be more like that. He was smart, so when he got kicked out from a college after college, she tried to save him from whatever it was that made him act out. He was kind and generous, so she tried to figure out what made him get drunk and punch a reporter, so she could save him from that too. Perhaps that's what had been wrong with them. She had been more of a nanny with a savior complex than anything else.

And now – she no longer itched to find the best way to get Oliver to be the best Oliver that he could be. It felt odd – to realize that perhaps that had never been her place. She watched him through the darkened lenses of her sunglasses. For all that he had hurt her – it was strange to realize that she had been wrong as well.

She wondered whether she should say something. These past weeks had upturned her life – it was strange to come to the conclusion that after she had made the decision to end her life, she ended up learning how to live it.

She watched his face. He looked troubled even as he slept. She realized, he had been so determined to strike up a conversation, that he hadn't even pushed his chair back – he slept sitting straight up. The thought made her heart ache, and she wondered whether she would ever be able to not care at all when it came to him.

She indulged herself – her gaze caressing his sleeping features. He was handsome – different than when they'd both been younger, but he was still a man that she loved. She ached for the pain she knew he had to have suffered these past years. The scars his body carried.

What a strange pair, we are, she thought. Both of them had been through their own kinds of hell. And she could swear it had changed him, but that thought made her doubt her sanity. Because all that she saw from him was all that he chose to display - and it was like he hadn't changed at all. That, or he desperately doesn't want to change, she thought. And she… She had to change. A version of Laurel was dead. She couldn't go back to the life she had left the night she walked out of her apartment and onto a bridge.

To that girl who felt so alone, so abandoned. Who only knew how to count all the things that pained her, all the people who had hurt her. Truth was, she had let them hurt her. She had to protect herself better. She had to be stronger. She had to set better boundaries, and most of all… She could no longer keep repeating the same old motions – she could no longer love Oliver more than she loved herself, she had to stop hoping that hating Sara would somehow make her own pain disappear, she had to take care of herself first.

She was so deep in thought, she almost startled when the stewardess came around to nudge everyone awake to fasten their seatbelts, as they were finally about to land in Starling city.

IKYWT

As her feet hit the airfield, Laurel realized that she didn't really have a plan for what to do next. Before she left – she had left her apartment to be packed up and sold. She wasn't sure if it was sold yet, but it still wasn't a place to return to. Any stuff she wanted to keep, she had marked and asked her landlord to put in storage, so she had something in the way of things, but not a place to stay.

She did not want to ask Thea. There would be no keeping to her resolution to start a new life if she was in vicinity of Oliver. Perhaps a hotel? But before she could think much further on it, her gaze landed to a large limousine, just off the runway. A man in a black suit stood beside the car holding a large sign. A large sign with her name. What?

Thea nudged her shoulder, her suitcase quietly rolling next to her. "Who's that?" she pointed towards the car.

Laurel shrugged and was just about to say that she had no idea, when she realized… Slade. She had called him as they were about to leave the hotel in Chile, just as an impulse – to tell him that she was coming back to Starling and that if he was in the mood – it was her time to buy the coffee. Guess, he's in the mood. But how did he know which airfield… "A friend," she replied to Thea.

Thea smirked. "That friend who I'm thinking of? That no-no-Thea-I-didn't-go-to-a-party," Thea faked a giggle with a broad grin and finished, "friend?"

Laurel laughed – she felt embarrassed and relieved at the same time. "Come on, maybe I can get him to drop you off too."

"Na-ah," Thea replied and pointed with her head in the direction of her brother who was getting his bags from the belly of the plane. "I think this is my cue to get him out of your hair and to our mother. I'm sure she'll be thrilled we both bailed on her."

"You're a lifesaver," Laurel said and even though the smile lingered on her lips as if it was a joke, the moment she had said it… It rang true through her entire being. Thea had saved her life. In a way different from Slade, but she had. And Thea had also saved those people in the jungle. "You're a hero," Laurel said with sudden seriousness, catching Thea by her arm.

"So are you," Thea replied without missing a beat. Oliver was coming near them, and she shrugged Laurel off. "Now go! And call me soon, we have to work out this thing of yours," she coughed as a hint.

Laurel nodded and went towards the limo. As she left, she heard the last pieces of conversation between the Queen siblings.

"Where is she going?"

"What, you don't think you're the only guy with a limo in this city, right?" Thea sighed. "Let's go home, Ollie."

IKYWT

Laurel walked up to the car, feeling a bit more hesitant with every step. But the only other way to go was back, and she did not want that.

The chauffeur smiled at her and opened the door for her. Took her suitcase. She got inside the car and in a second from the somewhat chilly yet blinding spring sun on the airfield, she was in a warm seat. All the light from the outside was muted by toned windows. Slade was sitting across from her – wide smile on his face. She only now noticed that the smile was so large, it made his cheeks push his eyepatch up a bit. It was endearing. It was easy to smile back.

"I did not expect a welcome wagon," Laurel said, testing the atmosphere.

"Well, you could say, I was desperate for a coffee," he replied easy, lounging in his seat, giving her space. The chauffer's door opened and closed. There was a partition separating them. The car did not move.

"I did promise you one," she replied, giving her voice all the seriousness due a promise this weighty. This move – this, picking her up, it felt straight out of Queen or even Merlyn playbook, but she found that she was not annoyed.

"Aye, and I figured I'd cash it in while you're in a giving mood, love," Slade teased back. "But actually, if you'd rather just be dropped off at your place, I'm happy to give you a ride." He didn't share that he was fully aware of her current living situation. He wondered what she'd decide.

Having had no particular destination in mind, Laurel felt awkward. She had a strange feeling that if she mentioned a hotel, Slade would offer her his. She was damn near certain of it. He had a knack for saving her. And she wasn't sure she wanted or even should accept if he'd offer.

Deciding that stalling was as good a strategy as any, she said "You know what… I think some caffeine would help me shake this jetlag. And I do know a good place."

And she suddenly realized why it felt so light to interact with Slade. He didn't seem to expect anything of her. And for all that he had saved her life – she didn't feel indebted to him. Nothing about him seemed to cage her, and that made her all the more drawn to him. As if he was a fountain of freedom, she had forgotten she had a right to. "And they have pastries," she added, conspiratorially.

"You're a wicked woman, Laurel Lance," he said with gravitas. "But you're in charge here, so sugary treats it shall be."

Laurel blinked. Stunned for a second. His words resonated within her. She was in charge. It felt like it had been forever. It felt like… never before. And she wanted to do it right. "Well then, the Orion Lane just before the turn to Orchid Bay. There's a place."

Slade knocked on the partition and passed on the details to the driver. The car started.

"Oh, and if you don't mind a detour, any closest Verizon will do, I need a new phone," because she had dismantled and tossed her phone just before leaving with Thea. And the military phone Daniel had loaned them – they'd given back. And at the hotel, she'd just used the hotel's phone.

She'd been living on borrowed communications – her wish to engage with the world in limbo. And now she was back, and it was time to start again. "I seem to have lost my old one."

IKYWT

Oliver did not go to Queen manor with Thea. He saw the disapproval on his sister's face as they parted in the taxi area – but his route was to Verdant. He needed an update whether anything had happened in the past few days – though they would have called. And he just couldn't bring himself to go home. The disappointment in his mother's face, frustration in Thea's, and the big empty rooms… No.

He needed to work off his nervous energy, and with any luck he'd make a dent in the List. Because that was a mission that was clear. Laurel on the other hand… He wondered when it had become so hard to talk to her. Once upon a time he'd thought he could go to her with anything and she'd just accept it, and now… It's not like she curses my name, more like she just stopped caring. And that was worse.

He had expected it, of course. For years. And that made it somehow even worse. Unbearable.

Tiredness dogged his heels as he marched down the metal stairs, but he was determined. A quick glance was all he needed to know that Felicity was not in the base. Diggle was. Oliver nodded at him, dropped his bags near the cabinets, "Anything I should know?" though his tone implied, that there better not be.

Because I need a few rounds with the salmon ladder if I have to take it calmly.

"Look, Oliver…," Diggle sighed, wishing the words he had to say had already been said. Stalling. Thinking whether it would be better to wait a little or just get it out. Pull it like a band aid. In a nervous gesture he rubbed his hand against his short-cropped hair. Guess there's no easy way to say it, he thought, still stalling against Oliver's puzzled expression. "Laurel tried to kill herself."

"What?" disbelief was the strongest color in the prompt response Oliver shot back. But cold feeling washed over him, like realization he did not want to have. A thought he'd had before echoed again … like she'd stopped caring.

"Those weeks ago, before she went away – when she was missing. That's when it happened, well, didn't happen as it is."

Oliver opened his mouth to object and closed it, because he remembered it all too well - the terror, he'd felt in his race to find Laurel after Slade's threat. The determination to be better if he found her. The relief when Thea called.

His hand was raised warningly, index finger like a magic wand that could wave reality away – half frozen with denial and anger that Diggle could even suggest such a thing. Half frozen with fear. He swayed on precipice of believing something he did not want to believe.

Because Laurel's fine. I saw her just an hour ago.

"Felicity found the recording of …," John felt like every word he said was a physical attack on Oliver, yet he also saw the outrage and willingness to suspend disbelief on his friend's face, so he felt he had to hammer the truth home. "Of Laurel trying to jump from a bridge. I'm sure the file is still somewhere on the computer – cause if you don't believe me, you can check yourself."

Oliver's shoulders went down, his hands went down. His instinct to punch Diggle just to make this somehow not true went away. "I don't…" I don't want to see it. There was very little air in this basement. "I have to go."

"Oliver, where are you…?"

But Oliver was already up the stairs and away. And Diggle could guess well enough where he went.

IKYWT

"Thea, where is she?" Oliver growled in a tone that was more befitting his alter-ego than Thea's brother, but his breaths were coming out quick and short and he was even shorter on patience. He'd left Verdant like the hounds of hell were on his heels. And after a road too long and pointless knocking that had just got him ejected from the building – he was standing on the fire escape and staring into an empty apartment. The realization that he still had no ability to reach out to Laurel, to find her - sideswiped him like a tornado.

"Ollie, what?" Thea, for her part, had been in the middle of a nap. The flight had been exhausting and long, and she felt entitled to some jetlag and adjustment time.

"Laurel. Where is she? Where did that guy take her?" Why is her apartment empty? But he had to pick his battles. His lungs were fighting him on every breath.

"Ah, Ollie, it's fine. And you know, she really…"

"Thea."

"Are you ok?" worry snuck into Thea's voice, and she suddenly sounded decidedly more awake.

And only then Oliver realized that he was hyperventilating. "Fine," he managed and dropped the call, phone cluttering on the metal rails. His hands shaking. His chest burning – his heart felt like it would climb out along with his airplane lunch. Cold sweat broke out and he broke down. On the same fire-escape where he'd sat listening to Laurel break apart all those weeks ago.

It was twenty minutes later when he felt like he could finally breathe that he realized he'd had a panic attack.