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:
- AU for the entire series.
- Inspired by/Fusion with "Flowers in the Attic," by VC Andrews
- This chapter was beta'd by the wonderful, London! Thank you for being such a trooper and putting up with me.
- Bold-ed words in this chapter emphasis and italicized words are imaginings/flashbacks.
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 surveyed everything laid out in John's room. From the personnel files spread out on the round dining table in the living room/kitchenette to the floor plans laid out on the floor by the balcony window, Oliver knew they had all the information needed to take down the Foxworths. Now all that was needed was to account for the unknown variables: the human elements.
There were additional things that needed to be factored in, of course; things that could affect the atmosphere inside the gothic structure's walls. Some were simple, matter-of-fact specifics that would help them better prepare for the next portion of his plan: who frequents which rooms, as well as escape routes from those rooms. Beyond that, he was hoping to learn more about the dynamics of those within the mansion so that they could exploit any tensions in their favor. Hell, turning conflicts against them at the most opportune moment could mean the difference between getting Thea's justice or being arrested for breaking & entering (and just a whole bunch of other charges.) In order to learn those details, they needed eyes inside.
Thankfully, John had thought of that… unfortunately he didn't run his "solution" by Oliver before putting things into motion. Now Felicity was in Virginia and there was no telling her to go home.
The blonde had arrived the previous day with an armful of bags from electronic stores, declaring that she was quote, 'here to save you two from yourselves.' Initially, Oliver hadn't been thrilled to see his most technologically adept friend.
It was nothing against the woman herself, of course. It was great to see her actually; her upbeat outlook was a welcome reprieve after spending days focused on vengeance and worry. If his singular focus on righting the wrong done to his sister was equivalent to standing in a blaze, blinded by smoke and breathing in toxins, Felicity's arrival was akin to the appearance of a torrential downpour that doused the flames and cleared the air.
No, his initial displeasure upon her arrival was directed at Diggle. He was acutely aware that Oliver hadn't wanted to bring in Felicity to this extent. Oliver had been very clear: the fewer people in the know, the better protected Thea and their plan were. But he'd gone ahead and brought Felicity in anyway. Now that she was here, Oliver couldn't possibly turn her away. Both she and John had come to Virginia just to help him out of the goodness of their hearts,
"Okay so these are the cameras for the two main bedrooms…they have the highest resolutions." Felicity said, tagging the assigned devices with navy blue, yard sale, stickers that matched corresponding stickers on the Foxworth Hall blueprint. "You'll want to angle the cameras to get most of the room and any exits, if possible."
How had he earned such loyal and generous friends? …It must have been something he'd done in another life because it sure as hell wasn't something he'd done in this one.
"These," Felicity said, reaching for the smaller cameras further in on the scratchy hideous hotel room bedspread. Pulling them closer as she spoke, Felicity continued to instruct, "These aren't as high definition as the bedroom cameras, but they have a wider lens, so we'll be able to see a larger portion of the room."
After tagging that batch of filming equipment with the little red stickers, she applied the yellow ones to the last batch of devices. "The rest of them are outdoor cameras, placed near enough that we can see who comes and goes. They're small enough that no one should be able to see them unless they are looking for them."
Oliver had to admit, surveying all of the devices that she'd brought with her, involving Felicity was probably a good idea. Her expertise would help them garner more information than Diggle and he could have gathered on their own.
"This is great, Felicity," Oliver chimed in, joining his comrades beside the bed. "Thanks."
The blonde looked up at him from under her eyelashes, a smile on her lips, "I thought about just sending you two the cameras, but I knew how that would end, 3 A.M. I'd be getting woken up," she daintily cleared her throat before attempting an impression of Oliver, "'We got the cameras inside, but nothing's coming through!'"
Dropping the façade, Felicity shrugged, "Figured I'd save us all time & frustration and just be here to fix it in person."
"Hey!" Oliver objected in-kind to the good-natured jest, "I'll have you know that I am good with technology."
Felicity laughed, not falling for his act, "You two don't have the greatest track record with it."
Letting the topic drop, Oliver said with the utmost sincerity, "It's good to see you, Felicity."
"Is it?" She questioned, "Then why did I have to hear from John, instead of you?"
Oliver grimaced slightly at the question; it was a fair one though, and he couldn't avoid answering it. "I wanted to keep the number of people involved as limited as possible."
"You trust me enough to be involved in your mission in Starling City, but not this?"
"What I do in Starling City, that is mine alone, but the Foxworths…this mission, it's not. It is my sister's to bear, and she's made it quite clear that she doesn't want people to know. I told John because I had no choice, his contacts and expertise were vital at the time, while bringing you in was a judgment call."
A beat. And then Felicity said, "I understand."
Oliver sighed, relieved that he wouldn't have to navigate one of Felicity's emotionally-draining fits of fury over this.
John, on the other hand, was apparently shocked by her easy acceptance, "What?"
"What, what?" Felicity asked in return, head turning in John's direction with marginally narrowed eyes. "Oliver was just protecting his sister's confidence, I understand that."
There was a moment where he could have sworn that Diggle and Felicity were having some sort of telepathic discussion… and then it was gone. John cleared his throat and double-checked, "So we have the cameras, the nondescript white van?"
"Yeah," Oliver confirmed absently, eyes roaming over everything laid out in the room, "Rented the van off the books, paid in cash, and even swapped out the plates. I'll need you to pick it up and drive it out though, John."
"Yeah, sure." The older man agreed easily enough.
"Thanks. While you're doing that, I'll be securing clothing to sell the backstory."
Turning to Felicity, John started to ask, "did you get the-?"
"-badges printed up?" Felicity interrupted, heading the question off. "Yeah, side pocket."
He slid his hand into the aforementioned pocket and slid two pleather bifold booklets out. Opening first one, then the other, John carefully studied the two documents for even the slightest flaw that might make someone suspicious. He found none. "Very nice craftsmanship."
"Thanks, I 3D printed them at work."
"You were careful?" Oliver said, his voice shifting in tone, indicative of his question.
"Obviously," Felicity responded, a little offended he even needed to ask. "did it after work, unlocked the doors with a 'borrowed' key card, accessed the printer with someone else's code, and avoided all security cameras."
"Very strategic," Oliver complimented, earning him a sheepish, but pleased smile from Felicity.
"Impressive," John agreed, returning the badges to the designated pocket, "so when do we go?"
That was a fair question. Time was paramount; after all, the sooner they had eyes inside, the sooner he could make the toxic family pay for their misdeeds. However, it had grown quite late in the evening, and they'd not eaten yet. A quick glance at the digital clock just behind John on the nightstand told him that they'd have limited options in dining establishments at this hour.
"Fuck," He'd promised himself he'd help Thea get better, stronger; step one of doing so was making sure she ate! "We need to grab dinner."
After agreeing to meet up again in fifteen minutes, give or take, in the hotel's restaurant, Oliver took the elevator to their floor. Their suite was lacking the comforting sounds of occupancy when he entered. That was strange.
"Thea?" He called out, though silence was the only response.
The television which they always left playing even just in the background was silent and dark. There was no pattering of water that he'd hear if Thea was showering. A quick check of both the balcony, where Thea could often be found drawing, and the closet confirmed that she was in neither of her preferred spots.
Just as panic was beginning to rise in his chest, the hotel door beeped, and Thea walked inside. She was dressed in tennis shoes, black yoga pants and a long-sleeve sweatshirt with a towel around her neck; after three consecutive days of her just lounging around in the suite, it was nice to see her in something other than a pajama set.
"Hey, Ollie," she said cheerfully, "how was tonight's game?"
"Good. He won tonight, but luck may be on my side tomorrow."
Thea scoffed, "I think luck has better places to be than a daily poker game with no actual stakes involved between two friends."
Yeah, she was probably right about that… if he and Diggle had ever actually played together. They had better hope that luck favored them tomorrow while they got their equipment in place because, if they got caught, the whole plan might have to be scrapped. Not to mention the consequences of being caught red-handed trying to spy on one of the oldest, richest, and most connected families in all of Virginia.
"We're thinking about grabbing dinner at the hotel's restaurant."
"Yeah, sure, just give me a couple of minutes to rinse off and get changed?" Thea asked, "I really like this endurance/muscle strengthening workout I found on YouTube, but I always feel sweaty afterwards."
"How often is always?" Oliver inquired, unable to contain his curiosity at this surprising development.
Thea shrugged nonchalantly, "I don't know, I guess 15 minutes to half an hour once a day, while you and John hang out." She chuckled softly after a moment, "you didn't think I spent all that time in here, did you?"
To be honest he hadn't stopped to think about what Thea got up to while he and John were gathering intel, doing covert surveillance, etc. It had simply been enough for him to know that she was safe and protected within the walls of their rented suite. Perhaps he'd assumed she spent that time drawing in her sketchbook or watching TV, but now… in light of the disbelieving amusement on her face, well, he realized he'd been a fool to never think about it.
"That's great, Speedy."
"If it's so great, what's with the face?"
"What face?"
"Your face, Ollie! Why do you look like I just told you I decided to run off and join a sex cult? It's just some exercise."
"I'm concerned, that's all. That doctor said not to push."
"I know," Thea agreed, "that's why I'm being careful, taking it slow…. You know, not pushing."
Holding his hands up in mock-surrender, Oliver offered, "it's a big brother's prerogative to worry."
"Yeah, yeah," she said, waving away the justification idly, while searching for an outfit to wear to dinner, "I've also been visiting the business center, looking into the GED process, gonna worry about that too?"
Ignoring the small jab at the end, Oliver focused instead on the news she'd just shared. "That's wonderful."
He'd hoped that once she got her feet under her again, she'd work on moving forward in her life, but he'd thought the adjustment period would take more time. If his own experience was any indicator, getting back into the rhythm of normal life was no easy feat. Hell, it had taken the motivation of his dad's mission and the unwavering support/encouragement from Diggle, Felicity, & Tommy to truly spur him into action. Thea, on the other hand, had motivated herself.
"…You're amazing, Speedy."
A soft pinkening of her cheeks answered his statement, "All I did was Google some stuff and work out, Ollie, pretty sure that doesn't qualify for amazing."
He bridged the distance between them, "But you are, Thea. Wallowing in what you've been through and shying away from life, that would have been the easiest thing to do, but you… you picked yourself up, dusted yourself off and jumped back in."
"It's not a big deal," Thea insisted yet again, eyes dropping to the ground.
Seeing that his attempt at being supportive was causing his sister discomfort, he attempted to play it off with a self-deprecating statement of fact. "I didn't even know this place had a business center."
Thea relaxed slightly, put more at ease simply by not being the focus of their discussion, "Between your work sessions and your nightly poker games, it's not surprising that you haven't explored the hotel."
Guilt settled heavily upon his shoulders worn like a mantle. He hated lying to her. Though her words were presumably to excuse his awareness, or lack thereof, of the hotel's amenities, what he took from them was simple: his absence had not gone unnoticed. Balancing his desire to deliver justice and his hopes of reconnecting with his sister was proving to be more difficult than anticipated. If she was commenting on it, he clearly dropped the ball.
"Speaking of work," Oliver began, scouring her face for any indication of disquiet even as he continued on, "the board decided that, while I'm over here, I should consult with someone from I.T. to make sure the existing technological framework can handle the burden of working from coast to coast. God forbid productivity should suffer because computer systems don't function properly."
Thea just blinked at him, "Okay."
"John and I invited her to join us for dinner."
Whatever reaction he might have been expecting to that statement, he didn't get it. Thea was seemingly unfazed.
"New city across the country," she nodded approvingly, "it's nice of you to offer."
"So, you don't mind?" Oliver probed cautiously.
"No, of course not," Thea said, "it would be nice. To have another girl around."
While Thea went to rinse off, still dragging that ratty attic suitcase in with her, Oliver pondered why he'd been so convinced that introducing Felicity and Thea would be fraught with emotional minefields. Thea hadn't so much as batted an eye when he mentioned their table of 3 becoming a table of 4. Clearly, he'd underestimated his sister.
Perhaps meeting Felicity could even be great for Thea. Since leaving Foxworth Hall behind, Thea had spent most of her time with him or he and Diggle. That was a lot of male energy to contend with. The few fellow females she had met were temporary connections: the doctor, salespeople, waitstaff. Felicity wouldn't be so temporary; now that she was in Virginia, she would dig herself in like a tick until the job was done. The two would have time to get to know one another. Maybe Felicity could be for Thea what Oliver never could be: a girlfriend.
Thea emerged from the bathroom wearing a long-sleeve, lightweight peach-colored cardigan with criss-crossed front panels that were anchored at her side by a small button and a flared pair of black slacks. The siblings wasted little time in their suite, heading instead for the elevator to take them to the lobby. Despite himself, Oliver kept sneaking glances at his sister from the corner of his eye. She seemed fine; she was fine. So why couldn't he shake the feeling that she was just going along to get along?
For all his worrying, dinner ended up being a rather brief affair; it wasn't so much a get-to-know-you dinner as it was a quick hi-how-are-you dinner. It's hard to establish connections with people when it's fairly obvious the wait staff are eagerly awaiting your exit. There was only minimal conversation and food rather quickly consumed.
"So, you're really not gonna fess up, huh?" Thea asked as she approached the shared bed, flipping the blankets back so they could both climb in when they were ready to rest their heads. Oliver, on the other hand, was busy trying to find the damn plug for his cellphone. The damn thing was constantly slipping off tables no matter how he laid the end. He resorted to kneeling on the hotel carpet to feel blindly between the side of the bed that had unconsciously become his and the side of the night table next to. He emerged triumphant if a bit disgruntled, with the wire in hand.
"I'd have to know what you're talking about to answer that." Oliver replied using the wire as an excuse to avoid his sister's curious gaze, keeping a tight rein on the panic that loomed.
What was she talking about? Had Thea somehow found out about their plan? Had someone slipped up during dinner and mentioned something they shouldn't have? He'd thought the meal had gone rather well; all things considered. Thea had been quiet, but she wasn't exactly a Chatty Cathy to begin with these days. She'd done her best to follow the conversation at the table, despite being out of the loop, and she even laughed at a few antidotes that had been offered up. There's no outright glaring and no cold shoulder given when Oliver had introduced Felicity to his sister. It was a slightly warmer first meeting than Diggle and Thea had shared. Oliver called that a win… until now.
"I know I've been locked in an attic for a few years, but I'm not dumb, Ollie!" She protested laughingly, "Give me a little credit."
"I-uh," Still at a loss for what to say, Oliver answered the only way he could, "I don't think you're dumb."
Thea gave a little huff, rearranging and fluffing her pillows, "Fine, fine. You don't want to come clean, that's your business."
Still unsure of what she was talking about Oliver was hesitant to say anything else. "Thank you."
She sat on the side of the bed, back to Oliver, and swept her hair up into a messy bun
"You really should just be honest with me." Thea advised, finally turning to stretch out against the headboard, "I'm not going to freak out because your girlfriend wants to see you, Ollie."
Oliver gave a slight shake of his head at that statement, "Felicity isn't my girlfriend."
Thea gave him an inscrutable look, trying to determine the truth of that claim. She ended up replying with a simple, "huh."
"Why do you sound so surprised? Men and women can be friends, you know."
"Obviously," Thea said, rolling her eyes heavenward, "It's just-"
"Just?" Oliver prompted cautiously. Her expression seemed awfully conflicted for the topic of conversation.
"I don't know," She said after a long moment of silence, "something just feels off about her. She's just…too into you."
"Too into me?" Oliver echoed, trying to understand her intended meaning.
Whether she felt better just by voicing her concerns about Felicity or she couldn't really explain any further, Thea answered with, "just be careful around her, Ollie. Don't lead her on."
Oliver protested instantly, "I'm not!" Though he certainly couldn't fault her for saying it; the man he'd been before Lian Yu would have done that very thing he objected to now.
"I know," Thea was quick to set his mind at ease, "but you never know how she's perceiving you. What you might consider a small act of friendship, she might see as an attempt at something more."
Oliver shook his head, "it's really not like that."
Thea raised her hands, palms out in supplication, "it's a little sister's prerogative to worry."
The use of his own words against him meant only one thing: he must admit defeat. Laughingly, he replied, "I guess we'll just both worry then."
"…and John?"
"What about John?" Oliver asked wearily, though he already suspected that he knew the answer.
"Are you dating John?"
Yup, he'd been right on the money.
"No," he answered amid an amused chuckle, "Speedy, I'm not dating any of my friends. But hey," here his tone took on a teasing lilt, "if I ever do, I promise, you'll be the first to know."
"It's not like it's never happened before." Thea said in rebuttal, "Also, I'm no expert, but I really think if you do end up dating one of your friends, that person should probably be the first to know."
It was such an absurd topic to be discussing but Oliver couldn't help indulging in such conversation. Every time they've stopped to talk lately, the two of them have been weighed down with heavy conversations; the ridiculousness of this discussion was a welcome reprieve… Even if it was silly.
They sat in the companionable silence for a few minutes before Thea spoke up again, "so I know that Q.C. sent you out here to assess in real time the value of a company they're contemplating buying out and consolidating into the larger brand. I know that John followed you out here because it's his job to keep you safe and you snuck away on his watch. But how did Felicity end up here? I mean it can't be a coincidence that when you report back to headquarters saying, 'I need a trusted I.T. personnel here,' and they send down your new bestie from the I.T. department?"
It was only then that he realized how poorly conceived his lies were becoming. He'd failed to account for how astute his Speedy was. She was right, the idea that Queen Consolidated would just so happen to send the one person he knew in the I.T. department was laughable.
Thinking on his feet, Oliver concocted a story, "When I realized I would need someone from the department, I asked for the one person whose work I could vouch for, whose work I could trust," he shrugged casually, "that's Felicity."
Another few moments of silence and then, "how is this appraisal coming anyway? We've been living in this hotel room for weeks."
That was a question he'd been anticipating for quite a while now. She hadn't escaped life in that attic room, just to spend her days in a hotel suite. He just needed her to hold out for a few more weeks, just until he got enough intel to be reasonably confident of his mission's success. Just a few more weeks…
"We're almost done with the appraisal," Oliver assured her, "we just need to get a few more details squared away, a couple weeks at most." Under his shrewd observation, he saw her face fall at his words.
He gave her shoulders a gentle squeeze, "Then, as soon as we're done, you and I will put Virginia in our rearview mirror and never, ever come back."
"I know it's not the state's fault." Thea began, "but I really hate Virginia."
A rueful chuckle was her answer, "yeah I guess so."
Once again, the siblings lapsed into silence, this time darkened by the specter of the unknowable horrors that Thea'd endured while within the state. After all that he'd discovered in Virginia Oliver, too, would be grateful to put the coastal state in their rearview mirror.
Oliver finally spoke up, redirecting the negative flow of their conversation by asking, "Have you given any thought to where you'll want to go when we leave?"
"Huh?" Thea asked, blinking up at him a little dazedly.
"When we finish the appraisal, where do you want to go?"
"Oh, uh," a small, but clearly visible furrow appeared between her eyebrows as she thought, her next sentence spoken slowly as though she weren't certain what she wanted to express, "I don't know."
"How could you not know?"
It was meant to be a jab in good humor. He knew instantly that his words had not been received as he'd intended. He could literally feel some of the bones in her spine stiffening beneath his forearm where it was draped around her shoulders; he could see her eyes as they clouded over with emotion. He barely had time to brace for impact before she was turning to face him and countering with,
"Why should I? Why? 'Cause I've had years to imagine a future, to craft a perfect life plan for myself?!" Green eyes glared, "I never thought to imagine a future, okay? I never thought about what I would do if I ever got out of there."
"Never? Really?" He prompted cautiously, voice and tone both meant to soothe the anger that had bubbled to the surface. "Not even in the early days?"
The anger drained away, leaving behind only the world-weary soul beneath, tired and resigned.
"No, you're right. In the beginning I did. I'd daydream about all the things Mom and I would be able to do once she won back Grandfather's love. I imagined at least a dozen arguments that I would use to convince Mom to send out additional search parties for you once we could afford it. Yeah, I did."
She paused, distracted by thoughts left unspoken, before explaining, "But those types of thoughts stopped eventually and then… it just started to feel like there was no world anymore. Nothing, but that place. There was no future out there to dream about, no places to go because there was nothing beyond that locked bedroom door."
She ran a shaky hand through her hair as she tried to clarify, "I know that sounds crazy. 'Cause it is, but-"
"It's not crazy," Oliver interjected, "it's survival. Your world was confined to that attic room for years." He pressed a kiss to her temple before adding, "Mine was Lian Yu. You do whatever you have to, to keep yourself going because there's no other choice."
Shaking off the ghosts of his past, Oliver hugged Thea just a little bit tighter. "Those aren't our lives anymore. We can do more than survive."
Thea was quiet for several minutes before admitting in a subdued fashion, "I know that, logically, but it's hard."
Others might have needed her to elaborate, not Oliver. He was in the unique position to understand some of what she'd struggled with because he'd fought those same demons. It's hard. Hard to lower her defenses. Hard to believe that the metaphorical rug wasn't about to be pulled out from under her again. Hard to break the survivor's mindset. Hard to trust.
"Yes, it is." Oliver allowed, "but you can't let that hold you back."
It was only after the words were out that Oliver realized how trite and unhelpful they were. She needed solutions, not platitudes. "Maybe a goal would help? Something to work towards. When I first came home, and life got too much. I could shut it all out and focus on my mission."
"What are you? a secret double agent?" Thea asked with a note of fond humor, "So, what's this mission of yours?"
There was a part of him, as there always was when moments like this arose between the siblings, that wanted to tell Thea the absolute, unfettered truth. He wanted to open his mouth and tell her that he was attempting to fulfill their father's last wish and save Starling City from those who would do it harm. He wanted to share with her everything about who he was and what he had done since they've been apart. There's no one he wanted to let in more than Thea.
But he couldn't bring himself to do so. She's struggling with finding her place in the world again, she didn't need to know that he put himself in harm's way almost every night to bring justice to Starling City. Not yet.
…It was better this way.
"Working," Oliver answered, carefully phrasing his answer. "I told myself I wanted to make an impact, so I put my mind to it, and well now we're here."
"And working at Queen Consolidated really helped?"
Oliver nodded, "Having something to focus on, it gives me somewhere to put my energy."
Thea gave that some serious consideration. He recognized the telltale signs of deep thoughts on his sister's face, even after all this time.
"So, I should get a job?" Thea mused haltingly, clearly not certain that she'd deduced the right point of his tale.
"No, not at all," Oliver replied. "I know picturing the future is scary. It's daunting. If the question of what next is too much, break it down into something smaller, something you can feel comfortable with." Oliver leaned back, trying to get comfortable with the headboard behind him sans pillows. "Let me ask another question…if you absolutely had to pick up and go right this second, where would you go?"
"Right this very second?" Thea paraphrased, waiting for a nod of assent from her brother before answering, "Scotland, maybe?"
Huh. Scotland. Interesting, unexpected, but interesting.
"Why Scotland?" Try as he might to withhold his innate curiosity about such an unexpected answer, Oliver was ill-equipped for such a task.
"It was so pretty, life felt… I don't know, slower there." She paused, "Plus, everyone in Scotland speaks English so there won't be a language barrier."
Scotland. Huh. Of all the places that she had to choose from, Oliver wouldn't have put any money on Scotland being her first choice. It was a nice locale, of course, and he'd nothing against it; it was just surprising. Now that she'd mentioned the country though, Oliver found himself mentally reliving the greatest hits of his previous trips there.
"I didn't think you were that impressed when we were there." Oliver commented.
"I was eight, Ollie. Appreciating things wasn't really what I was good at." Thea defended petulantly before pointing out, "How would you know anyway? You spent most of our trip sleeping the days away, and your nights in the clubs. I barely even saw you on that trip."
...That was a reasonable recollection of that particular family vacation. In hindsight, Oliver regretted choosing the company of nameless, faceless strangers over time spent with his family. If only he'd known that (sooner than anyone could have expected) his father would be dead and their family would be in shambles. At eighteen years young, though, Oliver had been blissfully ignorant about the realities of life; all he'd thought of back then was wild nights with even wilder girls.
But just because she actually had a point didn't mean that he was going to acknowledge it.
Instead, he defended the choices of his younger self, "I was 18, Speedy, I was practically a kid."
"No, Ollie," Thea said, chuckling under her breath, "I was a kid. You were a horny teenager in a strange new land."
"Okay, okay," Oliver conceded, "… my point is Scotland is a great choice, but we'd need papers: birth certificates, passports, etc."
"Yeah," Thea conceded easily, "best not to draw any undue attention. The paparazzi in Starling are ruthless, if we put in requests for documents those bloodhounds would hear of it and start asking questions."
The mere idea that someone might come snooping around was enough to cause a physical shiver to course through her. It broke his heart to see his previously vivacious little sister so weary. In hopes of distracting her from her unpleasant train of thoughts, Oliver pointed out, "But hey, there are 48 other states to choose from. If you had to choose to move right this very minute, which state would it be?"
Thea gave her answer several minutes of thought, despite his inclusion of 'right this very minute' in the proposed scenario; Oliver didn't dare point this out. Eventually, she said, "I've lived on both coasts, so I guess I'd want to check out the middle. Kansas, maybe?" She shrugged, "Bet life feels pretty different there."
"Kansas, huh? You sure you're not just saying that because of that Wizard of Oz phase of yours?"
Thea laughed softly, leaning back into the headboard. "Yeah okay, that's where I got the state from, but middle America seems like a good place to hide."
Hide? As much as he wanted to probe deeper into that reason, Oliver knew they needed to get some shut eye. Tomorrow he would need to be energized and focused. Tomorrow, they would finally get eyes inside Foxworth Hall.
Oliver was unsurprisingly the last one to arrive at their predetermined meeting spot. Having done in-person visual recon for nearly a week now, they'd scouted out a good location from which to monitor the mansion without alerting the individuals inside to the fact that they were being surveilled. It was also the best spot for the receiver to be placed. He could see a bit of Felicity's blonde hair as she worked to secure the device safely to a sturdy tree several feet into the woods that lined the lonely road. He put John's rental car in park next to the nondescript white van that John had picked up for them.
"Hey, Oliver," John greeted, turning within the passenger's seat to watch as Oliver climbed into the vacated driver's seat.
"We were starting to get worried," were the first words out of Felicity's mouth when she reentered the vehicle through the rear doors. Beside Oliver, John made a slight motion to indicate that, despite her claim to the contrary, the 'worry' was hers alone. It was a verbal habit of hers that Oliver had taken note of early on in their acquaintance; whenever she wanted to express an emotion or sentiment, but avoid the full ownership of it, Felicity would couch her sentiments behind a plural group. 'We were worried,' 'we tried to warn you.' He wondered idly what a psychologist would make of that.
"Had to make my excuses to Thea." Oliver replied, turning slightly to the right so he could see both John in the passenger's seat beside him and Felicity in the rear of the vehicle without straining his neck. "So, how's today going so far?"
"Same as nearly every other day," John said, "They are very loyal to their routines."
Felicity chimed in, "We've already managed to place the outside cameras."
Targets that were so predictable made things easy to plan, but Oliver was wise enough to know not to rely on routines. "Don't get complacent. Anything could happen, we must be ready for everything."
"So, if Thea doesn't know what you're doing," Felicity began from the back of the van the sound marred by the rustling of fabric as she changed into the clothes that had been procured by Oliver that morning, "What does she think you're doing?"
"That I am playing basketball with Diggle and a couple of his military buddies."
"A guys' day out," Diggle interjected proudly.
"His suggestion, obviously, " Oliver informed her from his position in the front of the truck, fond exasperation clear in his voice.
"It's the perfect excuse," Diggle defended huffily, "She won't ask questions about it no matter how long he's gone, it'll have the built-in excuse: guys' day got out of hand. She'll just be glad he's not under arrest or black-out drunk, she won't press the issue."
Felicity chuckled, "Who knew guys could be so devious?"
"Women don't corner the market on deviousness, you know." Oliver asserted, offering the blonde in the back a feigned look of indignation in the rearview mirror. Their eyes met in the looking glass, and inwardly Oliver groaned, knowing in that instant that she would make something of it in her head. Crap. Maybe he really would need to deal with her crush instead of waiting it out. Either way, now wasn't the moment to contemplate it.
"No, but we are masters of it," Felicity said in a cheeky retort. She then handed a tablet to Oliver between the seats saying, "We're all set up to receive the incoming video signals once they start streaming. It's pretty much business as usual."
…However, this was anything but business as usual. On a typical mission, Oliver was the one donning the disguise and infiltrating the target's domain. As such, Oliver was the only one in immediate physical danger (most of the time;) Those were odds he was willing to gamble with.
Sending John and Felicity inside of Foxworth Hall went against every fiber of his being. It was unfortunately necessary. So, though it made him feel cowardly and extremely uncomfortable to let his friends venture into the belly of the beast, there was no other choice. His face was familiar to the people of the manor. Him attempting to sneak inside under the guise of a hardworking employee of the state/city, etc. would certainly fail. John and Felicity, however, were strangers to them and, if the staff of the hall believed their story, it would seem completely unremarkable. All they had to do was convince the few employees they might talk to that they were simply workers doing their jobs.
"We're ready when you are," Felicity informed him. She tried so hard to project confidence and strength; this façade might have worked if they were new acquaintances, but they'd weren't. No, Oliver could read her nervousness in the way that she kept fiddling with the buckle on one of the canvas bags they'd brought.
It was perfectly understandable that she was anxious, field work was not her purview. The young woman was more comfortable behind a computer, far away from any confrontation that Oliver might need to face in his efforts to right the evils that plagued their city. The fact that she was prepared to go in anyway was a credit to her tenacity and the strength of her friendship.
"Okay then," Oliver confirmed, nodding once before turning back to face the steering wheel and began driving the work van towards Foxworth Hall.
The mansion was just as foreboding in the mid-afternoon as it had been when he'd initially arrived. This time, as he pulled the vehicle up the driveway, he took note of the landscaping: it was meticulously done with all the hedges and trees trimmed perfectly, but no amount of gardening magic could soften the feelings of trepidation that the gothic-style manor inspired in visitors.
Beside him, John exhaled slowly, commenting under his breath that, "it's even more intimidating in person."
"Understatement of the century," Felicity commented in a hushed whisper.
Oliver silently agreed with both of them but kept silent as he drove the van up the driveway to the Hall itself. He would have to let John and Felicity out some distance from the front entrance to avoid being spotted by whomever answers the door.
"Malcolm, Moira, and Olivia are at church for most of the day and by now most of the staff have been relieved of their daily duties. Only vital staff remains so as long as no one suspects you, this should be a cake walk."
They all knew that he was faking the extent of his confidence in their scheme, but no one called him on it. After all, a projection of false bravado was far more likely to ensure their resolve than it would if he admitted to having second thoughts about planting the bugs.
Watching as his two friends exited the vehicle, both carrying identical workman's bags, and headed up to the mansion's front door, Oliver felt the knot of unease tightening in his stomach. Sending his friends inside to plant cameras and listening devices in his stead felt wrong. He should be the one taking all the risks. Thea was his sister, and it was his mission to get her justice, yet it was Felicity & John who were putting themselves in harm's way so that he could do just that.
He turned on the tablet and was instantly greeted with a screen full of small boxes. All of them were black, save for the first two; those showed him the perspectives provided by the bodycams that were sown into the patches on the shirts. This way if they ran into any complications, Oliver would be put on notice and could act accordingly.
John grasped the antiqued door knocker in his hand and brought the heavy thing down on the wood twice before someone finally opened the door. It came as no surprise that the individual to open it was none other than John Amos.
Thumbing open the file folder that had been left on the van's dashboard, Oliver quickly skimmed all of the information that Felicity could find of the man online, but there wasn't much. Like their employers, the Foxworth staff weren't social media people. It was very strange, or so Felicity had remarked.
The only concrete thing that Felicity could scrounge up on the man was that he'd been a loyal and faithful servant to the Foxworth dynasty since he was eighteen years old. The only picture she could locate of the man was clearly taken some time prior to, or just after, his employment with the Foxworth's. It was blurry and obviously out of date, but it was the visage of the aging butler.
"His loyalty makes him dangerous," Oliver mused under his breath, even though there was no one around to hear his comment, before closing the file so as not to lose any of its contents.
Meanwhile, outside the van…
"Yes?" the old man asked, the single word sounding like something out of a spooky cartoon for Halloween. "May we help you?"
"Hello, sir, my partner and I have been sent by the city of Charlottesville to assess the safety of these premises by conducting an immediate inspection."
"What inspection? No notice was sent to the masters of this hall."
"Surely someone got a call?" Felicity chimed in, the view from her bodycam positioning her to John's left. There was the slight rustling of pages being turned as, he presumed, Felicity feigned searching for any sign they'd been notified.
"There is no phone here." John Amos replied stone-faced. "All notifications for Foxworth Hall must be submitted in writing."
Felicity made a vague noise of understanding, letting the pages rest on the clipboard she carried, "With the situation as it stands and top priority being the safety & wellbeing of the public, there wasn't time to send out written notice."
"Situation," the butler hedged, unwilling to admit that he had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.
"Yesterday at 3 P.M., the U.S. Geological Survey's sensors at Virginia Tech recorded a 5.8 earthquake in this region with several aftershocks."
"We didn't feel anything here."
"That may be, sir, but other homes in the area have experienced a variety of damage. Given the age of this property, coupled with the lack of any safety inspection for the past," once again the blonde flipped through the papers on her clipboard, "wow, 20 years, the city is required to ensure the safety of the premises before anyone may reside in the home."
"We shouldn't be too long," John supplied, "we just need to ensure that the house is structurally sound. The effects and damages from these events aren't always obvious. We inspected a house just the other day that had slid off its foundation. If we hadn't spotted the problem and gotten them out, that family might have been cashing in a life-insurance policy in addition to a home-insurance policy."
The possible consequences of ignoring the so-called situation weakened the butler's resolve, his eyes becoming slightly less intense and penetrating. "May I see some identification?"
Both John and Felicity unclipped their fake badges and let the butler inspect them. In the van, Oliver held his breath. Would he figure it out? Might he spot some flaw in the IDs and deny them entry? What would they do then? Their entire plan hinged on them getting access to the estate.
"You're a structural engineer?" John Amos asked Felicity, his tone making his skepticism quite clear. The implied sexism in the question caused the blonde to straighten her posture even more, but mercifully she held her tongue and simply replied, "Yes, sir, with the city of Charlottesville."
Through the vantage point of both bodycams, Oliver watched the stern-faced butler lean forward slightly to peer over their shoulders at the van itself.
"That's not standard-issue transportation, is it?"
Here John jumped in, "Our resources have been stretched pretty thin, trying to make sure every house is safe for occupation. We've had to dispatch several teams in newly acquired vans without our department's branding, given that our primary focus is keeping everyone safe."
Oliver was quite impressed with John's quick thinking, even more so when the butler, finally confident in their reason for being there, allowed them to cross the threshold. With the door now closed, Oliver's knowledge of the situation inside was limited to just what his companions' bodycams revealed.
John gave a low-whistle off-screen as he remarked, "We should probably split up," he seemingly shifted a bit, his camera catching a small portion of Felicity this way, "don't you think?"
Felicity gave an appraising nod, "Yeah." Addressing the butler still standing with them in the foyer, the blonde jovially added, "The faster we get started, the faster you'll be rid of us."
The butler was unmoved by Felicity's attempt to ease the tension. Was the man ever moved by anything? Oliver wondered.
"I cannot allow you to-" Whatever objection he was about to raise was abruptly cut off. Given his limited windows into the situation inside, Oliver was at a loss for several moments regarding what had curtailed the man's condemnation. He had to rely on his ears to pick up any subtle sound cues that might explain the halt in conversation.
"No, no, no," he heard the butler scold angrily, "you must blot, Marissa, not rub. Are you an idiot?"
"N-no," an unknown voice replied, wobbly with unshed tears and stress.
"You must be!" the butler insisted, "Either that or you wish to find yourself back in the unemployment line again, begging for scraps to live on, is that it?"
Again, the unknown voice gave a wavering, "N-no."
"Then I would advise against ruining your employer's most valuable tablecloth by rubbing at a damn stain!"
John Amos vanished from the view of Felicity's camera for a handful of seconds before reentering the frame. His dominant hand tightly gripping the bicep of a young woman, though as only a small portion of her arm could be seen on camera, Oliver couldn't determine if he might have encountered the woman during his overnight stay at the hall. John Amos began to frog march his fellow employee toward the back of the mansion. The possibility of a ruined tablecloth was apparently more pressing than two strangers wandering around the mansion unattended because the man vanished into the back rooms without another word to John or Felicity.
Taking their good fortune in stride, his friends split up. Time was of the essence, after all, they needed to get the cameras up and get out before the Foxworths returned. Oliver very much doubted the residents would be as accepting of their fake motivations as their employee was. Get in, get them up, get out; that was the game plan.
For the first time since the two had left the van, their video screens depicted unique viewpoints: John heading for the first-floor rooms while Felicity headed up the stairs. Watching his two friends move from room to room silently, planting the designated cameras, Oliver couldn't help imagining his sister's arrival to the mansion years earlier. The scene played out in his head like a movie, her voice a narration in his head.
The night had undoubtedly dark & unseasonably cold and Foxworth Hall must have loomed large as they walked up the driveway to the mansion. It must have seemed like something out of an old horror movie, the kind where cheesy cardboard lightning bolts appeared every time that the spooky residence on the hall was mentioned, to a young Thea. Her feet had to ache after the 15-mile-long journey from the train depot to the isolated family manor.
Thea would be woefully unprepared for such a trek; she'd grown up in a world of Towne cars and personal drivers, walking that distance must have given her legs quite a workout and her feet were probably aching in whatever shoes she had happened to be wearing. In that moment, Thea had been relieved to see the gothic structure up ahead because at least there she'd have a chance to rest.
The closer they came to the Hall, trepidation and fear had crawled up Thea's spine. Having only their family home for comparison, the manor practically screamed for people to stay away, By the time that Thea caught up to their mother at the front doors, she was filled with a sense of unease and dread that compelled her to reach for her mother's left hand.
Benefitting from being outside of the situation, Oliver knew the action for what it really was: a desperate plea for the comfort of familiarity and reassurance. This, he presumed, was behavior that one might expect from a girl of only 13,, who recently lost half of her family, had to leave everything and everyone she knew because the adults in her life had failed her, and had been forced to relocate to the other side of the country to live in a home fit for Dracula with grandparents that she'd never known about until things fell apart. Of course, she was reaching out for the only person she had left.
Unfortunately, that only person was, as Thea had put it, 'distracted by her own stuff.' And jerked her hand away as soon as they touched. Oliver thought Thea was being generous with that excuse; it was not, however, unprecedented for Thea to invent rationalizations for Moira's decisions. The journal she'd written was replete with excuses for Moira's actions and neglectful treatment within the mansion's walls. Why and how Thea could be so generous of spirit, despite all that Moira had allowed to happen and all that Moira had brought upon their ruins of the Queen family, was a mystery to Oliver.
Thea dropped her hand to her side, suddenly feeling even more isolated, as she watched with bleary eyes while her mother raised the knocker on the front door and knocked just once. In that moment, cold and exhausted, Thea found herself desperately hoping that the home's outward appearance was misleading. Perhaps behind those doors was a warm, inviting home. Maybe even a grandma and grandpa who were as nervous as she was about meeting for the first time. Maybe they'd be like all the grandparents in commercials: rosy cheeked while greeting them with open arms. …Or just maybe, a desperate girl craving stability and safety was so worn down by life that she was indulging in sleep-deprived imaginings.
All hopes that the intimidating mansion might just be a safe place for Thea to land and figure life out now were extinguished the moment that door opened to reveal a shadowed silhouette which took up most of the doorway. After a few seconds of her eyes adjusting to the bright light spilling out of the house in opposition to the night's darkness, Thea could see that the figure was that of a woman with a spine as straight and sturdy as that of a newly printed dictionary and larger frame than was typical for a woman. Her gray hair was pinned back so forcefully that it seemed to pull her face even tighter across her skull… or so it had seemed to a 13-year-old Thea. The expression she bore certainly did nothing to belay the intimidating vibe that she gave off; with narrow lips pressed into a thin, harsh line and cold, gray eyes that reflected nothing, Thea was desperately hoping that this woman in the hideously plain gray dress was simply a maid on the property.
Then Moira said, "Hello, Mother."
"You are late, Moira." Was the first thing that Olivia said to them. No greeting, no it's-so-good-to-see-you, no you two look cold come inside, The first thing Thea ever heard her grandmother say was a criticism. It left a bitter taste in her mouth.
"The train was running behind tonight, Mother." Moira shared, dropping her eyes to the hideous shoes that Olivia wore. "There was an accident with one of the lines and the whole system was backed up."
"Then you should have walked faster. My goodwill extends only so long."
Moira was silent for a moment, Thea watching the exchange intently. Was this the grandmother that mom had been writing? If so, she seemed far more put out by their arrival than she should considering that she'd been well aware they were coming.
"We walked as briskly as we could, Mother. 15 miles is a long way to walk at night, especially for an exhausted teenager."
This failed to soften the disdainful look upon Olivia's face. It did, however, bring Thea to the matriarch's attention.
"Ah, yes, the child." Her steely eyes slid from Moira to herself. There was no warmth or happiness to be found on Olivia's face as she gave her only granddaughter a quick once over. Thea wanted to inform the other woman that she wasn't a child, but she held her tongue.
Without another word, Olivia stepped back and allowed them to enter the grand foyer, but before Thea could get more than a glimpse of the room, both she and Moira were being herded up the staircase in tense silence.
It would be four years before Thea would once again see that foyer.
A loud noise from the tablet in his hands pulled Oliver back into the moment. Movement in the first two segments drew his eyes back to the top, watching as both his friends moved room by room, placing the equipment as planned. He also kept an eye on his own surroundings, any sign of the returning homeowners or anyone else for that matter, and he'd have to act fast, but the only things to cross his path were a couple of squirrels.
10 minutes later, all but 3 of the cameras were installed and hidden away. Of the final three, one was John's responsibility, and the others were Felicity's. The cameras that Felicity carried would provide a better-quality feed or some such thing. He didn't entirely understand the technology, but he didn't have to. Felicity did and he trusted her to know her stuff, just like he trusted John to know his. Specifics aside, she knew how the equipment worked so naturally she was the best choice to hook them up,
Then one of the remaining black screens flickered for a second before bursting into life finally, displaying an extreme closeup of Felicity's eye for a few seconds before she backed up a couple steps, clearly double checking that the device was well-hidden from sight. It was only then that Oliver could identify her location by her surroundings: Moira's bedroom. She walked out of frame, and he was left with a view of the room itself.
Oliver's focus was pulled away from the garish living space and that hideous swan bed to the view from John's bodycam when a stern voice caused John to whirl around quickly.
"I do not believe the stability of our bookcases falls under the purview of structural engineers."
Though Oliver couldn't see the servant's face in the moment, he felt very confident that his features were unreadable and yet somehow judgmental at the same time. That certainly had been Oliver's impression of the man during their brief acquaintance.
To his credit, John didn't falter for a second although he still hadn't brought his final camera online yet. He simply curled his fingers around the final piece keeping it hidden from view in his palm and replied, "The broad's the structural engineer, I'm a city building inspector."
The lie was so effortless that even Oliver was impressed. Had his time in the military taught him the art of observation and deception… or was Oliver responsible for honing John's skills in deceit? Regardless of where he picked it up, John had clearly mastered it because the butler's defensive and antagonist demeanor faltered.
Instead of the previous inquiry full of condemnation and passive judgment, John Amos said, "The bookshelf is not built into the house structure."
The military man was unphased by the implication, "Just because it isn't technically in my job description doesn't mean I can let a safety hazard like unsecured bookshelves go unchecked. One of those comes down after we sign off on this place and it's my head on the chopping block."
John must have shrugged, the bodycam's stream moving with the motion of it, "Best to just check it while we're here, that way we can all sleep better at night."
The servant was silent for a moment, frozen while he assessed the validity of John's claims. Finally, he relented, "Fine. I'll go find your companion, lest she wander off and not be able to find her way back to the exit."
The casual sexism had Oliver biting the inside of his cheek in frustration. Once the creepy butler had vacated the room, John was quick to finish the setup and took extra care to make sure that camera was hidden, just in case.
With John on his way, presumably out of the mansion, Oliver turned his attention back to the screen of Felicity's feed. His heart skipped a perilous beat at the completely black screen. He'd only looked away for a few moments at best! A rare feeling of helplessness crashed over him, as panic and guilt settled in.
Several possibilities existed to explain her lack of incoming feed and all of them raced through his mind. Had a wire on her bodycam come loose, thus no signal? It was possible, but not probable. Felicity had handled setting up all their equipment. Something as simple as a loose wire would have never made it past the blonde. Maybe she'd just entered an extremely dark room.
…Perhaps she'd been caught red-handed by a member of the house staff and she'd carted off to await the homeowners, or the police's, arrival whichever came first.
It was thoughts like those that made him second-guess the decision to involve his friends in this manner. Letting them in on his secret ventures in the city had been two of the scariest things he'd ever done at the time. Allowing them to research and do occasional recognizance was one thing, but to let them enter a mansion where he knew atrocities had occurred at the hands of the home's residents was another thing entirely.
These risks were his to take on. The dangers and consequences were his to face, not theirs. Getting Thea justice was his mission, not theirs. …Had he let his desire to avenge the wrongs and injustices done to Thea endanger his friends?
Just as he was about to say, 'screw the plan!' and go charging in, the front door to the mansion opened and John & Felicity walked out. As quickly as panic and doubt had settled over him when he lost visual contact, it vanished in an instant. As did any question about why the segment had gone black, he could clearly see the strap of her messenger bag crossing over her shoulder and covering the camera. No one said anything as Oliver started the van up once again, getting them away from that dreaded house of horrors without causing any undue suspicion.
It wasn't until he put the van into park beside John's rental vehicle that any of them dared to make noise. Laughter inexplicably started between the three of them with no real point of origin as the adrenaline of the situation finally abated. Out of the corner of his eye, Oliver saw Felicity leaning heavily against the barrier between the front and the back of the van. While she seemed physically unharmed, the blonde was clearly flustered, her hands shaking slightly.
After their laughter petered out, the trio sat for a moment, just gathering their energy.
"Well, that was stressful."
John's comment was so factual that it was enough to spur all of them into a breathless laughter as their adrenaline finally faded from their systems.
With their bout of laughter behind them, the trio once more decided to split up. John had to return the vehicle to its owner and so Oliver drove himself & Felicity back to their hotel. The journey was a somber one; both processing the events of the day internally, leaving little room of conversation. It wasn't often that Felicity let a silent moment stand, silence making her uncomfortable, Oliver was grateful that she remained mum during their drive.
When he parked John's rented car, back into the spot that the other man obviously favored, Oliver handed the now-asleep tablet to his companion. "I believe this is yours."
"Thanks," she said, accepting the item and quickly storing it in the messenger bag still on her hip.
"No," Oliver said calmly, "thank you."
It was now that the blonde gave him a confused yet slightly curious look in reply.
"You and John both dropped everything when I needed help. You both endangered yourselves today just setting foot in that house." Cocking his head to side slightly, Oliver offered a genuine smile, "Thank you, Felicity. You're a good friend."
Her cheeks took on a tinge of pink at his words, but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. He didn't have to guess why. Whenever he labeled their relationship as one of 'friends,' Felicity responded with a hollow look, as though her brain simply could not comprehend the words and she shut down emotionally in response. He assumed it was a coping mechanism of the blonde's, perhaps because of her abandonment issues, and he did his best to roll with it when he encountered this reaction. Pointing this behavior out to her would only serve to make things awkward between them and that was the last thing he wanted.
"Of course," Felicity answered a beat too late, "What are friends for?"
Soon after that Felicity exited the car, messenger bag on her hip and Oliver returned to their shared hotel suite with a renewed sense of optimism. Placing the cameras was just a small part of his larger plan, but it was progress and progress felt good. Nothing seemed off about their room at first.
It was unusual for the room's TV to be turned off, Thea liked to keep it on as a calming background noise, but maybe she'd started turning it off before her solo trips to the business/fitness center. It was certainly possible considering that he hadn't even known she was venturing there until yesterday evening.
No, it was the slightly skewed angle of the door to the under-counter minibar that really tipped him off. There was only one key to the minibar in their possession and it had never left his wallet since checking in. Upon approaching the appliance, Oliver found the door not fully flush with its frame. A quick scan of its contents revealed that a handful of mini bottles were missing. He didn't have to question how or who had opened the minifridge; it was obviously Thea. Why remained a mystery, however.
Closing the door firmly and reengaging the lock, Oliver grappled with what to do next. On one hand, Oliver was weirdly proud of his sister. Sneaking drinks when left unattended was practically a rite of passage for teenagers; he'd done so more times than he cared to remember.
On the other hand, as her de facto guardian, he had to handle this responsibly. Too bad he was at a complete loss as to how to do that. He wasn't a parent; he didn't have a clue what to say. How did he make her see that experimenting with alcohol, while expected, shouldn't become a habit without sounding like a complete hypocrite? Thea had been young in his partying days, but she'd always been far more aware than her age would dictate. He'd undoubtedly come across as a virtue-preaching, do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do charlatan.
Heading towards the sleeping area of their room, Oliver found an empty mini vodka bottle laying on its side on the TV stand across from the bed. He found another empty on the floor, only spotting it because of the light spilling through the balcony's glass doors. It was only as he was bending down to retrieve the accident waiting to happen that he heard someone singing under their breath. He tracked the sound to the attached bathroom, and there was Thea sitting on the tiled floor.
"Decided to take up drinking?" Oliver asked casually while his eyes roamed over her in concern. Due to her position between the toilet and shower, he could only see one side of her being. Her left arm was slung over the side of the porcelain tub while her right arm was playing idly with a fray on her jeans and her head lulled sleepily to the left. Her lips were moving, singing to herself. Her skin had a pallor that was slightly off her normal coloring and there was a touch of sweat dappling her right temple even though her left side of her head was resting on the cool fiberglass side.
"My friends dared me." Thea responded sarcastically, her green eyes sliding toward him sluggishly. Oliver was immediately conflicted by this answer; while Thea making friends would be welcome news, he wouldn't be pleased with any hypothetical friend who'd introduced Thea to the world of illegal drinking. "You should be proud, Ollie. I managed to open the minibar all on my own… well, with help from YouTube."
Confused, Oliver asked, "Why should I be proud? You broke into a locked minifridge and started drinking!"
Thea retorted, rolling her eyes skyward, "Oh, like you never did that?"
He was left speechless. He couldn't defend himself against the accusation because it was true; he had done that and so much worse. But he couldn't very well admit that, could he? It would undermine his whole point. As such, he resorted to an exasperated exhale of her nickname, "Speedy…"
"Hey!" she declared apropos of nothing, the volume of her voice just a touch too loud to feign sober. "I know! We can drink together. It'll be so much fun!"
Excited at the prospect of partaking together, Thea was scrambling to get off the tiled floor. Her hands struggled to find purchase on the slick surfaces, but eventually, she managed to brace one foot against the base of the toilet and up she went. She teetered unsteadily for a moment, muttering a small, 'woah,' at the head rush that action precipitated.
"You're not old enough to be drinking, Thea." Oliver pointed out, moving to steady Thea against his side for fear that she might take a nasty tumble if left to her judgment and perception. A dismissive snort had him tipping his gaze down to look at her as they exited the attached bathroom. Her feet were clumsy, toes seemingly getting caught in the stiff carpeting and tripping her up twice before they even made it past the closet. Deciding that getting the two of them seated quickly was the most prudent course of action, Oliver steered his sister toward the bed.
"Why not? What am I gonna do?" Thea asked rhetorically, "Can't drive. Can't drunk dial anyone, have no one to call. I'm not going to go down to the lobby and make a fool of myself because there'd be no point."
Oliver remained undeterred, continuing his previous thought, "And I'm pretty sure it's illegal for adults to drink with minors."
"Who'll know?" Thea countered in that tone that implied he was being foolish. "We wouldn't even have to leave our room, Ollie. There's still lots of minis in the fridge, I only had…" She trailed, lips moving silently as she did mental calculations. "three? I think."
Facts were facts, indisputable and unmovable. Maybe they would be able to break through the alcohol haze. "It stunts development, physically and mentally."
Thea sat down on the bottom edge of the bed with a heavy, unbalanced bounce. Much like the Weebles toys for children, she wobbled for a second before she didn't fall over. She gave a weary, 'are-you-kidding?' look, "You know what else stunts development, Ollie? Spending four years inside, breathing in dust and heaven knows what else. As for my brain, well," she shrugged, "I'm already behind where I should be. What's a couple of minis gonna hurt?"
Thea mused, "Shouldn't the question really be, 'why haven't I been drinking since we checked in?'"
That should be an easily rebuked point, but in a way, she was right. If anyone had a right to seek an answer at the bottom of a bottle, Thea did, age notwithstanding. But just because she'd reason to drink didn't mean she should.
"You're right," Oliver said, "I asked the wrong question."
In response, Thea gave him a rueful grin, "Yes."
"Why'd you start drinking today?"
Much to his chagrin, Thea seemingly ignored his inquiry and commented instead, "Hey, Ollie, did you know you can find anything out on the internet now. It's awesome."
"Yeah," Oliver agreed noncommittally, his mind on the dreaded do-as-I-say-not-as-I-do conversation to come. "The internet's pretty great."
"There's like a billion cat videos to watch. Oh! And apparently memes are still a thing somehow."
Oliver was confounded for a moment. How was she talking to him about cat videos and memes right now? Oliver had twisted himself into knots of anxiety as he awaited condemnation from his father that night. Yet, Thea was as cool as a cucumber at the moment. She should be more anxious or intimidated, right? He was her guardian and she'd been caught with her hand in the metaphorical minibar… shouldn't she be making frantic excuses or something?
Oliver gave silent thanks that the Merlyn family driver was not a hard ass like his employer. He'd heard Malcolm tell the man to make as much noise as possible when 'pouring him out of the car.' I don't know what he's so mad about, Oliver thought, Tommy had stayed in that night, just as Malcolm had insisted. …Well, maybe not exactly as the elder Merlyn had intended, but that was really on Malcolm. What did he expect leaving a 15-year-old alone in a massive empty house? Of course, they were going to throw a party; they had reputations to upkeep.
Looking back on it, Oliver regretted heading to the kitchen for a glass of water when he got inside, but in the moment, all he could think about was how thirsty he was. Just as he was crossing through the darkened sitting room, intent on the kitchen, his heart nearly leapt from his throat when suddenly, he wasn't alone in the room anymore.
"It's awfully late to be coming home, isn't it, Oliver?" Robert asked as he flicked out the light beside his chair, bathing the area in an unexpected circle of white light.
"Jesus, Dad! What are you doing? Why are you just sitting in the dark?"
"You've been drinking." Robert commented, ignoring the question entirely, "The smell of booze is just pouring off you."
Instead of trying to deny it, Oliver adopted a different strategy: playing it off. Maybe if he acted like it was a non-issue, Robert would take the situation the same way.
"Tommy had the mansion to himself, so we threw a," thinking on his feet, he termed it, "shindig. It was nothing, just some people and a little beer."
"Oliver, you're too young to be doing those things. You're only 15… you're causing yourself so much damage when you party."
"I'm fine, Dad." Oliver insisted, holding his arms out as if to present himself as physical proof, "Not a scratch on me."
"That's not what I meant," Robert insisted, his tone growing firmer as his frustration mounted. Even with his vision wavering unsteadily, making focus an impossible task, Oliver could see the vein near his father's temple throb.
"God damn it, Oliver, when you set foot outside of this house, you represent us as a family and as parents. This juvenile acting out nonsense may be par the course for other teenagers, but not a Queen. We must hold ourselves to a higher standard. Do I make myself clear, young man?"
Uncertain how his fed-up father would prefer him to answer that inquiry, Oliver settled for simply nodding yes. His words couldn't make things worse if he didn't say anything.
"Get upstairs and get to bed," Robert dismissed him, "We'll discuss the punishment for this in the morning, but if I were you, I wouldn't make any afterschool plans for the foreseeable future."
Knowing better than to push his luck with his father, especially when Oliver himself was drunk, he settled for a sarcastically-biting, "Sir, yes, sir."
He made it halfway upstairs before the elder Queen spoke up again, "Oh and Oliver, don't make a racket. Your mother and sister are still asleep."
Not for the first time, Oliver wished Robert had returned instead. The elder Queen may not have been the most present parent in history, but he'd a special bond with Thea. No doubt Robert would have handled this with expert skill: convincing Thea that there were better outlets for her troubles than alcohol without making her feel judged. Oliver was a pale imitation at best, and he worried that he was failing Thea yet again.
"What happened today?" He asked in a lighter tone, "When I left this afternoon, you were fine and now? You're plastered, singing to yourself on the bathroom floor."
As though someone was letting the air out of her balloon, Thea collapsed back on the bed to look up at the ceiling. Oliver followed suit, exchanging his view of the hotel TV's black screen for one standard beige ceiling. The two stayed perfectly quiet for the next several minutes.
Eventually, Thea broke the silence, "I was down in the business center today, just trying to adapt I guess, and I wound up on Facebook. Boy, that website has changed!"
To that Oliver had no comment; he'd never been big on the internet, and he'd found social media to be trivial & pointless. If he really wanted to know how his high school acquaintances were doing, he'd just call them up and ask. He didn't need to stay informed about the minutiae of everyone's breakfast choices every single day.
"Some guy forgot to log out of his profile, so I snooped on his page a little," she shrugged unapologetically, "just bored, I guess. I decided to look up a few of my friends from…" her eyes moved rapidly in their sockets as she tried to find the right words, "from before."
Oliver felt a sense of unavoidable dread creeping up his spine. Looking up friends on Facebook was innocuous enough of an action, hell it was the whole point of the platform, but the look of abject defeat on her face kept him waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Oliver hedged cautiously, "Is everyone okay?"
A sad smile stole over her lips, "Yeah. Everyone's fine. I mean, they look different than I remember, but no one's in prison or dead or anything."
"Okay…" Oliver hedged, unsure of where this conversation was going.
"Newsfeeds are technology's answer to the time capsule. Everything you've ever shared for all to see. Scrolling through someone's newsfeed, it's like walking backward through the shareable moments of a life. Everything I've missed out on all right there for everyone to see." She turned to her side then to face him, and he did the same.
"Every first day of school, all the spirit weeks & pep rallies, birthday parties, sleepovers, first kiss, first dates. All of it, just right there, and I-" a small sob broke through the façade she was trying so desperately to hold onto, and Oliver could take the distance between them no more. He pulled her toward him on the bed and let her head rest on his chest. "Let it out, Speedy."
She needed no further prompting than that, crying herself into a drunken slumber while Oliver stewed in his anger and resentment. They'd done this, they'd stolen moments from Thea that would never be able to get back and they would regret that. He would make damn sure of it.
A/N: It took me FOREVER & a year to update this and I apologize profusely for that. I hope that this chapter meets expectations at least (+ serves as proof that I haven't forgotten my stories or my penultimate OTP.)