Chapter 67: Into the Unknown

When Tommy Merlyn was eight years old, his mother died.

He remembered that night vividly. His father had come into his room, face blank and unseeing, the news passing through his lips in a robotic, detached manner. Malcolm Merlyn remained in that state for the next two weeks, all the way through the funeral, with his phone clutched tightly in his hands. Tommy would see him listen to it whenever his father thought himself to be alone, and it wasn't until he was older that he would understand why.

When the funeral came, Malcolm did not cry. He just existed. Only the occasional touch from his parents' closest friends, Robert and Moira Queen, did he ever show a hint of life. Tommy saw and saw and when his father left not long after, he cried because it was then he realized that he had not lost one parent, but two. And when his father came back, he changed, and it would be a long time before Tommy learned how much.

It was fine, he thought. I already have another father. During the two years Malcolm was gone, Tommy stayed with the Queens. While they would never quite fill the hole their friends left behind, they still found their own places in his heart regardless. Alongside Oliver Queen, Tommy's own best friend, their friends Laurel and Sara Lance and, nine months later, baby Thea Queen, Tommy began to thrive again. When Malcolm returned, he couldn't be what his son had needed, and that was fine, because Tommy didn't need him, not anymore. He had already moved on.

And then Oliver died.

Tommy hardly remembers the days that followed, mostly because he didn't want to remember them. Those had been the darkest days of his life. His family and friends had all made efforts to try and pull him out of his grief, but Tommy couldn't, wouldn't, because losing Oliver was like losing a brother and there wasn't a time in his life where he could ever imagine a life without his closest friend. They were supposed to graduate high school together, college (when they finally got around to actually going to class), be the best men at each other's weddings, be the godparents to each other's kids… they were supposed to do everything together.

Ironically, it was the father that had once abandoned him that pulled him out of that rut. Cutting him off was a cold and harsh move, but it forced Tommy to finally grow up. He got rid of the drugs, reconnected with his friends, finished college and finally got a job at the family company. He worked his way up the ladder to be one of the top executives, the clear successor to his father's then-untarnished legacy. It was during this time that he and Malcolm reconnected — enough to be devastated when the truth finally came out. Because even the loss of Oliver had not been enough for him to comprehend the loss his father felt the day his mother died, the anger and the rage at the world, all centered onto one place.

Even at his lowest points since then, Tommy didn't believe he would ever understand.

At least, not until he saw Isabel Rochev's cold body on a metal slab.

A small crowd surrounded the grave site that now marked the new home of Isabel Rochev's body. Inch-by-inch, the finely-crafted casket was lowered into the rectangular hole below, the largest, most extravagant wreath of flowers centered on the lid. Tommy had spared no expense for his ill-fated lover's final resting place, his last gift to her before she left his life for good. Accompanied with the wake, the long, lavish funeral service, and a prime spot in Starling City's most lucrative cemetery, it was a fitting send-off for the would-be monarch of one of Starling's two most prominent families. Isabel, were she alive, would be pleased to see such splendor in her honor.

Finally, after the casket landed on the bottom of the hole and the final words were said, the crowd gradually dispersed. One of the funeral-goers, Samantha Arias, kept her head down as she slowly walked to her car. She only stopped when she saw a familiar face walking the opposite direction, towards the mourning Tommy. Oliver Queen, and a little bit behind, next to his car, was Laurel Lance.

"Oliver." She said quietly in greeting, catching his attention. "I saw you at the funeral. You were avoiding him."

Oliver shrugged, a little listlessly. "I didn't know how'd he react if I tried to talk to him then. Last thing I wanted to do was cause a scene. But now…"

Sam put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I get it. I can't say if this is the best idea, but he needs all the support he can possibly get right now." She looked away, and took a deep breath. "I didn't like her, you know. Some might even say I hated her. But regardless of that, I never wanted her to die."

Oliver smiled sadly at her, and returned the comforting gesture. "Of course you didn't, Sam. You're a good person." After a moment or so, he let go, and with an exchange of nods, they parted ways.

The vigilante turned his attentions back to the grave, and he silently made his way down the hill, to Tommy. He waited until he was sure there were no stragglers from the crowd left. If this didn't end well, the last thing they needed were witnesses.

Finally, after the area was empty, Oliver cleared the distance. He opened his mouth to speak. "Tommy—"

"What do you want, Ollie?" Tommy cut him off, his tone flat. His gaze refused to leave the grave.

Oliver took a deep breath. "I came to see you. I'm not going to ask you if you're okay because I know you aren't. I just…"

Tommy lifted his head as he trailed off, and snorted. "Whatever. You came. You saw me. Now leave."

"No." Oliver shook his head. "No, Tommy. I'm not leaving. The last thing you need to be is alone—"

"So? You're just going to stay here with me? Follow me home? I'll call the cops then and have them put you up on charges. We can make it a long legal battle, it'd be a great way to kill time." Tommy burst out, laughing bitterly.

"You won't do that. That would be ridiculously petty, and I know that's not who you are."

Tommy smiled grimly. "Ollie, whoever you knew isn't who I am. Not anymore. Now, I suggest you take your girl, a woman who's too much of a coward to face me herself, and beat it, or I really will call the cops. And also, stop inviting me to your shit. You'd think by now you'd get the message."

Oliver stared at him, stunned and aghast at the uncharacteristic callousness. When Tommy refused to waver in his glare, Oliver sighed and held up his hands.

"Fine, whatever you want. Just… just know, that despite how things are between us right now, you'll always be welcome in our home, alright? That me and my family, Laurel and Sara — we're still here for you."

Tommy said nothing, simply turning back to Isabel's grave. Oliver knew it was as close a dismissal as he was going to get, and left.

As he sadly marched back to Laurel and his car, he failed to see a shadow suddenly appear behind one of the taller grave markers.

The car ride back to the Queen Mansion was silent. Oliver, not in the mood to drive, bummed over to shotgun while Laurel took the wheel. He leaned against the car window, mindlessly watching the cemetery disappear and bleed into the gray tone of the city. His city.

"It didn't go well, did it?" Laurel said knowingly, flitting her eyes over to Oliver.

Oliver turned to her, and smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "He's angry. So very angry. It's scary. For a moment, I thought he hated me."

"He could never hate you, Ollie. Despite everything, you're still his best friend."

"I'm not sure about that, Laurel. At least, not on his end." Oliver closed his eyes. "I can understand why he doesn't want to see me, or talk, and he told me to leave him alone, but I can't do that. I'm scared he'll revert to how he was after his dad was exposed and arrested."

Laurel slowed down the car as they approached a yellow light. "I remember. You gave updates, and it sounded…" she took in a deep breath, "it sounded horrible."

"It was worse than that." Oliver said quietly. "He didn't eat unless it was with us, he shut himself up in his room, barely talked to any of us. He was just there, you know? In some ways, it was a relief when Merlyn Global was cleared. When the news came, it was the first time in a while that we saw any real life in him. We didn't want him to leave after that — we knew that he still wasn't okay — but he was insistent."

"It's why I asked you to visit him as often as you could. I was terrified of leaving him alone for too long; it was already bad enough that he was staying at Merlyn Mansion by himself. After that blowout he had with us, the only reason I didn't try harder in getting some kind of accord from him was because of Isabel. Despite my reservations, she was good for him. At least, it seemed to be the case."

Laurel nodded along. She, of course, had heard about J'onn's observation of Isabel's mind, but like Oliver, she had decided to reserve herself from judgment. Isabel had yet to do anything to indicate she was anything other than a competent businesswoman and Tommy's girlfriend. Combined with Barry's background check picking up nothing on her, it had been best to leave her alone for now. "And now that Isabel's gone, you think he's at risk again."

"Definitely. Especially considering the similarities between her death and Aunt Rebecca's. There's no way that hasn't been lost on Tommy."

"No doubt." Laurel blew a stray strand of hair out of her face. "Hey, I know we were planning to go to your house, but want to head to the Foundry instead? All this talk about Tommy is clouding my head, and I need to release some pent-up energy."

"Yeah, I could use some training too." Oliver agreed readily, as Laurel changed course.

"Are you sure about this?" Barry asked Amanda candidly as they watched metahuman after metahuman being released from their cells and led through the prison to trucks outside.

"We need all the manpower we can get."

"We also can't trust any of them."

Amanda smirked. "Which is why they'll be getting bombs implanted into their spinal cords to force them into compliance."

"You are a horrible, vile person." Barry stated flatly.

"Why, thank you, Mr. Allen." Amanda replied, the smirk widening. "It's a gift."

Barry shook his head in disgust as the door behind him opened to reveal Kara, who seemed to be scowling at something. That something, upon closer look, was her phone.

"Hey, Barry, did Oliver tell you he was going to be off-grid today?"

The speedster blinked. "No. Why? Can't you reach him?"

Kara shook her head. "I can't. I can't reach Laurel either."

Barry hummed and went to one of the computer consoles, taking out the specially-designed drive that contained his A.I., Gideon. Unbeknownst to most of A.R.G.U.S. and the rest of the world, each member of the League's personal hideout was connected to a shared server, which, in turn, was connected to their respective security systems. These systems were installed with identity verification, keeping track of who entered the respective hideout, including the time of entry and departure.

It had been one of the many suggestions made during one of the Justice League's many brainstorming sessions, in light of the growing metahuman population. The system was designed so that if there were any discrepancies in check-ins (such as, say, two of the same person entering within minutes of each other), the rest of the Justice League would be informed via an alert on their phones.

After going through the necessary identification checkpoints, Barry clicked on the Foundry's log, noting that Oliver and Laurel had entered it only two hours prior. Frowning, he pinged the computer, noting how it pinged back. There were no connection problems, so why weren't they answering Kara's calls? As his final precaution, he hacked into the computer's camera to get a live feed of the room.

He cursed at the sight that greeted him.

"What is it?" Amanda asked, having briefly broken her observation of the departing metahumans to watch Barry at work.

"Oliver and Laurel checked into the Foundry two hours ago, and never left." Barry replied, typing furiously. "But I just checked a live feed of the place, and they're nowhere to be seen. I'm checking the security footage of the last two hours to see what happened."

Another feature of the security system was that the camera on the computers were set to record at all times. The footage was then directed through several intermediary dummy accounts and addresses before being filed away in the Justice League's server, under the strongest encryption that Barry and Cisco could devise. It was a last-ditch security effort, only to be accessed on the possibility that one of their bases were compromised.

After several minutes of typing, Barry finally accessed the security footage for the Foundry. He immediately clicked on today's footage, adjusting the time stamp to match Oliver and Laurel's entry time. He sped through the next two hours, using his super speed to keep up, until…

"Crap."

Laurel let out an 'oof' as she landed on the mat, right on her back. Before she knew it, Oliver was on top of her, fist at the ready. "I give!" She called out, laughing. "I give."

With a smile, Oliver offered her his hand. Laurel took it — and twisted it, throwing her legs over to force him into an armbreaker. Oliver had seen right through her ploy however, immediately lifting his back into a bridge and clasping his hands together to prevent her from completing the hold. With great effort, he skipped up, carrying his opponent with him. Laurel was forced to let go, falling ungracefully onto the padded floor. Spent, she laid there. Oliver knelt next to her heaving body.

"Now do you give?" He asked, cheekily.

"Yeah, yeah." Laurel waved him off, trying to catch her breath. "Still can't beat you, huh?"

Oliver sat down, one knee bent. "You'll get there one day, Laurel. To come as far as you have in such a short amount of time is astounding."

The lawyer sat up, blushing slightly at the compliment. She pressed her lips to her boyfriend's cheek. "Thanks, Ollie. If it weren't for you and Nyssa, and Ted too, I would have never gotten as far as I have now."

Oliver's smile widened, and he opened his mouth to reply, but before he could, some sort of strange light fell upon his girlfriend, like an ominous veil. Laurel noticed it as well, and looked up.

"Ollie?" Was all she could get out before she disappeared in some sort of static.

"Laurel!" Oliver cried out, reaching out to where she once was. Realizing she was gone, he immediately rushed towards the computer, where his phone had been placed, but before he could reach it, that same light fell upon him. A second later, he was gone as well, as if he had never been there to begin with.

The moment he got home, Tommy dove for the bottle. His father had a scrumptious collection of wine in one of the cellars of the kitchen, which Tommy had resisted after Malcolm's arrest. Now, however, he didn't bother — only alcohol could numb the pain of everything he had gone through these last few weeks. Not even work, which had been his refuge after Malcolm Merlyn's fall from grace, could distract him from the insurmountable feeling of loss. No, if anything, it only served as another reminder of the woman he loved.

Isabel was the one who pulled Merlyn Global out of the red, who convinced the Board to back him again, who made him a player in Starling's High Society, who comforted him when Oliver and Laurel's little romance had become too much.

Isabel was the one who helped him live again.

And now she was gone. She was never coming back.

What was the point anymore? No matter how hard he worked, how hard he tried, nothing would ever be able to fill the void she left behind. And even then, even with all of her — their — efforts, the Merlyn name still wasn't respected like it was before everything went to hell. Merely tolerated, at best. It probably never would be again, at least not in this city.

Maybe it was better if he just sold the company. Left this city. Find some other place to start over. Or maybe stay in the mansion. Waste away, all alone. It's not like anyone would care.

"Mr. Merlyn."

Tommy blinked at the sound of such an unfamiliar voice, and turned around. There, sitting on one of the couches of the living room he planned on wallowing in, was a beautiful woman of Middle Eastern descent. Normally, Tommy wouldn't be ashamed of admiring such a figure, especially since he knew he wasn't going to touch, but now, he couldn't find in himself the energy to bother. It felt like a betrayal if he even tried, anyway.

"Who the hell are you and why the hell are you in my house? And how'd you get past my security?" Were they slacking on their jobs? He did hire an entirely new force after his father's arrest, and it took using the greediest firm in the entire city to find people worth hiring.

The woman simply held up a dart. Tommy blinked. "Blow darts? Really?"

"Cliche, perhaps, but effective. Don't worry. None of them are dead. In about four hours, they'll wake up with no memory and no worse for wear."

"Well then, what are you here for?" Tommy asked, throwing himself down onto another couch, adjacent to where the woman was sitting. "Here to kill me? Go ahead. Half this city would gladly throw a party in your honor afterwards. Not like I care anymore anyways."

"No, Mr. Merlyn." The woman shook her head. "I'm here to help you. See, my name is Talia. I was a friend of your girlfriend, Isabel Rochev."

Tommy sat up immediately at that, glaring. "Funny. I didn't see you at the funeral."

Talia simply looked at him. "I couldn't be seen. I have many enemies, and if any of them saw me at her funeral, you and everyone else that went would've been in danger. In fact, I believe that it's one of these enemies that killed Isabel."

The billionaire scowled. "What do you mean?"

"Your police have already investigated Isabel's murder, yes? Have they found a suspect?"

"Some punk named Simon Morrison was arrested the other day for it. He'll be doing time for a long time if I have my way." Tommy smiled viciously.

Talia blinked, and took out her phone, bringing a picture up to the screen. "Is this him?" It was the picture of a duck-faced young man with short, black hair.

Tommy squinted at the screen and nodded slowly.

"I see." Talia took a deep breath. "That's not Simon Morrison, Tommy."

Her companion froze. "What do you mean, that's not Simon Morrison?" He demanded, angrily.

"That was Derek Sampson, one of Simon Morrison's many lackeys." She pulled up another picture on the screen, this time of a handsome young man with brunette hair and blue eyes. "This is Simon Morrison, though these days he goes by Adrian Chase. He's a big name in the criminal underground, an untouchable terrorist with connections to people very high up in governments across the world. Isabel was one of the people who opposed him, and in return he framed her for an attempted hostile takeover of Stellmoor International. I helped her out of that situation, but I guess he couldn't let his grudge against her go."

Tommy wrung his hands around angrily. "I'll ruin him."

"You can't." Talia stated bluntly, causing him to glare sharply at her. "Even with all the resources at Merlyn Global's disposal, Adrian Chase is far beyond your reach, Mr. Merlyn. If you wish for him to pay, you must do it yourself."

"And how do you propose I do that?" Tommy asked, incensed and desperate. "I go be Green Arrow and attack him with a bow and some arrows?"

Talia smirked. "Yes."

Tommy stared at her. "You have got to be kidding me, right?"

Instead of answering, Talia leaned against the armrest of the couch and smirked wider. "I read the police report on the attempted raid of your father's office, the night of his failed Undertaking. It said that the entire team was murdered by his enforcer, a man they're still searching for. But that isn't true, is it?"

Tommy's heart stopped. "You know about that?"

"Very well, Mr. Merlyn. I am one of those who trained your father, after all."

"What? How old are you?" That had to be over twenty years ago! Talia didn't look a day over thirty-five.

"Don't you know how rude it is to ask a woman's age?" She scolded him. "But if you must know, my youth is a… family secret, I guess you could say. As for your father, he came to us a long time ago, trying to find purpose. We gave that to him, but it wasn't enough. He was too angry, seeking revenge on those he held responsible for your mother's death. We let him go under the pretense that he would keep to our principles, and he betrayed that trust."

"We will not make the same mistake with you. We will help you get revenge for your love's murder, but in return, you must swear yourself to us for the rest of your life. You must serve the Shadows until the end of your days, until your bones are buried and become dust. Is that satisfactory for you?"

Tommy hesitated, but only for a moment.

"Yes."

That was one elaborate lie Talia made up, huh?

As for Oliver and Laurel, we're getting into the Dominators' Lotus-Eater Machine. For the record, it's only going to be them in there, and this will play a big part in the next act of this arc. Plus, the Justice League will be getting a new ally soon. You'll see who it is soon enough.

In other news, I saw Detective Pikachu the other day. Great movie, at least if you're a fan of Pokemon. While it's still a film for kids, there are enough laughs in there for adults to enjoy too.

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