Chapter 120: The Other Prodigal Son

"Oh my God, Ollie, those cooking lessons are really beginning to pay off," Laurel proclaimed as she took another bite of the pasta. "This is just… so good."

Oliver laughed. "I'm glad. I'll have more time to devote myself to them now that we're on rotation."

Laurel nodded. "I love being Black Canary and all, but I was getting tired of having to leave Starlin—Star, I'm never going to get used to that — all the time. Now," she pointedly stabbed her fork into the pasta, "we don't have to, and we even get more free time."

In the months since Zoom's downfall, the Justice League had further expanded its operations, and recruited even more members. This included Blue Beetle, a skilled vigilante who relied on gadgets; Fire, a Brazilian woman with pyrokinesis; her partner Ice, a Norwegian woman with cryokinesis, not unlike Caitlin's; the Crimson Avenger, another vigilante with a particular specialty in detective work; and Starman, another legacy of the JSA. His great-aunt was Courtney Whitmore, aka Stargirl of the JSA, and he had inherited her Cosmic Staff, a powerful weapon created by an inventor named Ted Knight that was able to manipulate starlight energy.

The most interesting member, however, was Shining Knight, aka Sir Justin of Camelot. A legitimate knight from King Arthur's court, he and his winged horse, the aptly-named Winged Victory, had been in suspended animation for the last one thousand or so years after defeating and killing the ogre Blunderbore. The ogre had, with his dying breath, triggered an avalanche in a last ditch attempt to take Justin with him. The snow buried both the knight and his noble steed, but had not actually killed them. The inherent magic in both Justin's armor and Winged Victory's body as a result of the enchantments of Merlin had managed to preserve them, and they had been freed by the Justice League during a mission in the UK.

Now in a new world, Justin had elected to join the Justice League as a member while adopting a new identity of Justin Arthur. With the current League's expanded operations, they had begun making tentative legal agreements to be allowed to operate openly in other countries. Justin was working under one such agreement, acting as the resident superhero of London while learning more of the modern world from both his Justice League teammates and a museum curator he had befriended.

One of the benefits of this expansion was the implementation of a rotation policy, allowing a number of members to be active and on-call for missions while the rest were on reserve, called in for missions when no one else was available or when there was a mission that required something of their specific skill and/or power set. It was a particular relief for the founding members of the Justice League — the recent crises of the past year or so had caused them to approach burnout along with forcing them to neglect their respective cities. With the rotation policy, that was no longer an issue. They had staggered the implementation so that way the new members would able to get a hang of the ropes, but gradually, one by one, they had retreated back to their hometowns, grateful for the comparative break.

"Star City… Star City…" Laurel scrunched up her nose. "I don't know. It just doesn't sound right."

Oliver shrugged. "I have no problems with it. Then again, I was living on an island for ten years, so I guess I'm not as attached."

"I get that. And I get why they re-branded the city. It's just…" Laurel clicked her teeth. "It just feels weird. I guess I just need more time to get used to it."

"I know how that feels. I…" Oliver trailed off, the words dying in his throat as he caught sight of the television.

Laurel blinked, setting down her plate of pasta into her lap and waving her hand in front of her boyfriend's face. "Ollie? What's wrong?"

Instead of answering, Oliver instead placed his own plate down onto the coffee table, exchanging it for the TV remote. He increased the volume of the television, allowing the sounds of the gossip reporter to echo louder through the apartment.

"And in other news, word just leaked about the arrival of Star City's prodigal son. Tommy Merlyn, son of the deceased domestic terrorist Malcolm Merlyn…"

Laurel gasped as the image of her former friend exiting an airport terminal, bearded and surrounded by paparazzi, entered the screen.

One month prior…

Tommy Merlyn, also known to the Shadows as Warith al Sa-Her, stood completely still, his sword dangling from his hand and beside his hip. He waited patiently as his students circled him, their own swords aloft and in ready stances. They had been instructed to not hold back, to fight to kill, as if their very lives depended on it. For him, however, his father had restricted him to non-lethal blows only.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, one of them pounced. Tommy parried the blade easily, slicing the student's arms before knocking him out with a quick pommel strike. A change in the air alerted him to the second student's attack, and he quickly ducked under the swing, throwing out a kick and using his free hand to knock the woman's sword out of her hand before elbowing her in the face, sending her back clutching her broken nose. The last two threw themselves at him, and Tommy dropped his blade in favor of catching them both in the midsection with his arms, knocking them down to the ground. He kicked both in the head, instantly knocking them out.

Suddenly, the woman with the broken nose charged at him. Tommy redirected the blow and grabbed her arm, twisting it and breaking in one smooth move. As she screeched in pain, he gave her a quick chop to the neck, rendering her unconscious like her compatriots. His final opponent defeated, Tommy made a slow rotation, observing the fruits of his labor. A slow clap broke through the silence, catching Tommy's attention.

Malcolm Merlyn, aka Al Sa-Her, the incumbent leader of the League of Shadows, gave his son and heir a genuinely proud smile. Despite himself, Tommy preened under that glowing expression. He had never seen such approval from his father before.

"Well done, Tommy. You truly are my son," Malcolm praised him. He wore similar armor to his subordinates, though his was more ornate, with golden accents and decals. He didn't dare do more than that, it would be impractical as an assassin, but it at least allowed him to be separated from the others as someone in a position of authority. "Your training has been going splendidly. I say that in another six months to a year, you'll be a match for me."

Tommy ducked his head. "Thanks, Dad."

Malcolm glanced at the aide by his side and made some quick orders to him in Arabic. Tommy, who had been learning the language ever since Talia had brought him to the temple over a year ago, parsed out the general meaning. His father had ordered the aide to have the defeated students picked up and sent to the infirmary. After their wounds were tended to, they were instructed to report back to Malcolm for a full evaluation of their performance.

After he was done and the aide began carrying out his orders, Malcolm glanced back at his son. "Come with me Tommy. Now that you've reached this level of skill, it's time for us to discuss our plans."

Confused but compliant, Tommy followed his father out of the chamber and down the halls of the temple. Occasionally, they passed other acolytes, each giving smalls of deference to Malcolm as he reached them. Malcolm paid no attention to these homages beyond the slightest incline of the head; as the leader of the League of Shadows, such respect was only expected.

Eventually, they arrived at Malcolm's personal study. The same study that had once been Talia's, before her untimely demise. Tommy couldn't help but still feel the slightest bit of satisfaction at the memory of it.

Malcolm opened the door, allowing his son the courtesy of entering first. Tommy stepped inside, placing his sword on a nearby rack before seating himself on the couch in front of the fireplace. His father sat himself on the love seat next to him, carrying a pot of tea and some cups. He poured one for Tommy and then for himself, before getting himself comfortable. For a few minutes, father and son just sat there, basking in each other's presence.

"Tommy, as you know, our priority is trying to escape the wrath of the League of Assassins," Malcolm started, "Unfortunately, we can no longer do that thanks to Talia's actions. The Assassins have made hunting the Shadows down their top priority, so even if we were to go underground they would still search for us. One slip and Ra's al Ghul will have both our heads."

"What do you suggest we do?" Tommy asked, clutching his cup just a bit tighter.

"We need to take out both Ra's and his daughter and current heir, Nyssa. But in order to do that, we need to find some way to take out Green Arrow without arousing the suspicion of the Justice League." Malcolm tapped his fingers against the porcelain. "This will be difficult, for more reasons than one."

Tommy snorted. "Gee, you think Dad?" he commented sarcastically.

"Yes," Malcolm sighed, ignoring his son's tone. "It's time you learn the full truth about the Undertaking, son. Or at least its downfall."

The younger Merlyn blinked. "What do you mean? Wasn't it that Frank Chen got cold feet and confessed on live TV?"

Malcolm shook his head. "No, Tommy. Frank was a coward, yes, but he was more afraid of crossing me than he was about getting caught and convicted by the government. At least at first — until Green Arrow got to him and had that bitch Amanda Waller blackmail him into taking the fall for the betrayal." The Dark Archer's eyes flashed in rage. "The real traitors were the Queens."

Tommy froze. "The… Queens?" The world seemed to be spinning. "You mean Robert and Moira were members of Tempest too?"

"Yes," Malcolm confirmed. "Robert was among the first, in fact. Moira didn't join until later."

"But… why? Why did they betray you? They were your best friends!" Tommy demanded.

"Because Robert didn't like the change in direction Tempest went. Originally, we were blackmailing the scum of the Glades into helping us clean up the city. But that method was ineffective, so we fell over to the idea of the Undertaking." Malcolm scowled. "Robert was horrified by the idea and confessed everything to Moira, who convinced him to take a stand against me. He started buying up properties in the Glades and conspiring with Frank. But as I said before, Frank was more scared of me than he was anyone else, so he sold Robert out."

Tommy swallowed. "What did you do, then?"

And here, to the younger man's shock, a shameful look crossed his father's face. As far as Tommy could remember, Malcolm had never showed much shame for anything. "I… sought to silence Robert. He was supposed to go to China on a business trip, meet with Frank's contacts there for more support. I had Frank plant a bomb on his yacht, so it would seem like an accident."

His son blinked. "But… wait. He never went on that trip to China. The one who did was—" he cut himself off as he turned to his father with a horrified gaze, dropping his cup of tea. It fell to the floor with an audible crash, breaking the porcelain into pieces.

"Dad… what happened to Ollie… that was you?"

"Yes," Malcolm confessed. "Yes. I'm sorry, Tommy. He was never supposed to be on that boat; it was supposed to be Robert. But then Robert got called away from the trip on business and Oliver stashed himself on and bribed the captain to continue the journey and by the time any of us found out, it was too late."

Tommy slumped into his seat, stunned. While things had soured between Oliver and him before he left Starling, that didn't change the fact that they had been best friends since babyhood. They had done practically everything together; Tommy had been one of the first people Oliver allowed to hold his little sister, Thea. And when Oliver had 'died', it had devastated him, caused his life to fall into a downward spiral that took years to get out of. And now, here was Tommy's father, telling him that it was his fault that Tommy lost his best friend at sixteen. That it was his fault that Tommy's life collapsed like it did? Tommy felt that familiar anger and resentment swell up inside him, and struggled to keep it under control.

"Make no mistake Tommy," Malcolm continued, heedless of his son's thoughts. "What happened to him… it's one of my greatest regrets. Perhaps the greatest."

"But that didn't stop you from using it to blackmail the Queens into doing your bidding," Tommy accused him.

"Yes. And they never forgot that, and they've hated me ever since. So when Green Arrow and Waller approached them with their offer, they leapt at the chance, and that's how we ended up here." Malcolm held up a hand. "Now, I know what you're thinking, Tommy. That it's no less than what I deserve. But Tommy, the Queens aren't innocent. They're complicit in every single terrible action Tempest has ever committed. They deserve to suffer like I have, like you have. But instead, they were able to go on with their lives like nothing had ever happened. How is that fair?"

Upon hearing that, Tommy faltered. His father wasn't wrong. It wasn't fair. The Queens might have been forced into Tempest, but they could've blown the whistle at any time. Instead, they stuck to his father's plans for a decade, doing his dirty work, and were about to let the Undertaking happen until Green Arrow swooped in with his miracle offer. It wasn't fair at all.

Malcolm's eyes were dark. "I wasn't going to let it happen. I was going to reveal their involvement at my trial. But Waller… she threatened your life if I did. Your life… and Oliver's."

"Wait. Why Oliver's?"

"Because… because Oliver is my son as well, Tommy. He's your half-brother."

Tommy stared at him for a long moment. "You're kidding, right?"

"No, I'm not," Malcolm denied, causing Tommy to throw up his hands in disbelief. "It was one night Tommy. Moira and I were stupendously drunk. And when we woke up and realized what had happened, we swore to never speak of it again. It meant nothing. I didn't even know Oliver was actually mine until the first time you got shot."

A light bulb lit up above Tommy's head. "The blood transfusion. That's why he was a match for me."

"Yes. Dr. Lamb noticed the results and immediately buried them, but not before telling myself, Robert, and Moira. Moira knew, of course, but it also turns out that Robert knew as well, to both our shocks. I wanted to tell him, but they threatened to blow the whistle on the Undertaking if I did."

"So he doesn't know," Tommy concluded.

"No. Robert and Moira obviously don't want him to know, and I didn't get the chance to tell him the truth. And that's a problem," Malcolm noted, setting his cup down and leaning back into his chair. "The League's blood debt against me extends to my entire family. That includes both you and Oliver. If they find out I'm alive, and then about him, he'll be vulnerable, Tommy. If Green Arrow doesn't hunt him down for Ra's, then Nyssa or some other elite member of the League certainly will."

Tommy looked down. There were a lot of conflicting emotions he was feeling right now, things he would have to parse out later. But in the end, his father was right. As long as Ra's, Nyssa, and Green Arrow were all alive, then he was in danger. For all their sakes, he needed to push aside his feelings if they were going to survive.

"So obviously, we need to get Oliver on our sides first, since we don't have the ability to eliminate any of the those three yet," Tommy finally said, mind instantly focused on the task at hand. "How are we going to do that?"

Malcolm smiled. "The answer is simple, Tommy. You need to go home first."

Now…

Tommy ignore the stream of questions being thrown at him by the surrounding paparazzi with practiced ease, locating his name among the standing drivers and directing himself towards him. An old employee of his father's, one that had stuck around as Tommy's own personal driver whenever he needed to arrive in style. It seems he had remained faithful to the Merlyn name, even after it had been shamed and then abandoned by Tommy over a year prior.

Just as he stepped into the car, however, one question caught his interest.

"Mr. Merlyn! Why did you return to Star City?"

Tommy paused as he thought that question over, his mind flashing back to his father.

"You can't tell him the truth yet, Tommy," Malcolm said seriously, his hands clasped on his son's shoulders, "He has no reason to believe it, even if it's from you. And even if he does, he has no reason to like it besides you. You need to deepen his trust in you first."

"And what about his 'parents'?" Tommy put up little air quotes around the last word.

Malcolm smiled. "Leave that to me."

Tommy smiled. "I thought it was time to reconnect with some old friends."

Then he slid into the car, ignoring the flashing lights and the screaming paparazzi. About a minute later, the vehicle began to drive away.

Before you ask, yes, Malcolm is still unaware Oliver is Green Arrow. Talia was smart enough not to commit that information to anywhere but memory and only to herself and whoever needed to know at the time. Thus, this makes this entire chapter doubly ironic.

Oh, Malcolm. If only you knew.

That's it for now. You know the drill: don't be afraid to review, flames will be ignored and deleted, and don't forget to update the TV Tropes page!