"I don't expect you to tell me the whole thing," said Thea, walking arm in arm with Laurel as they entered the Queens' garden through the sliding glass door. "Or anything remotely close to the truth."
Laurel preferred not to offer a response, as she removed her arm from Thea's. "Let it go," she advised, not wanting to continue any further discussion on what Thea may or may not have uncovered the previous day. "It's only sex."
Thea raised an eyebrow at that. "Barry's falling in love with you," she pointed out. "In fact, he's already in love with you, Laurel! He wants to be with you...he wants a life with you." She lowered her voice. "You just don't know what you want."
Laurel's fists balled at that. "Enough," she warned.
It was Amelia's fifth birthday party and the little girl was the only thing Laurel wanted to focus on, considering how she'd already blown up on Barry over something she didn't want to deal with. Or perhaps she just couldn't.
Her stomach dropped. She really didn't want to visualise Barry's sad face. At least not now.
Oliver was back, confirming that her own baby sister; her little sister, with her beautiful smile that haunted her in her sleep, was actually dead.
Not that she'd ever considered the possibility of Sara not being dead, she thought to herself, face contorting slightly as an image of Sara's empty coffin being lowered into the ground surfaced before her eyes.
Her legs shook as she sped away from a visibly concerned Thea calling after her.
Thea stopped, staring after Laurel as she walked down the stone path. Clutching a bag of wrapped gifts in her hand, she strode forward a moment later, only to briefly greet her mother before heading over to her brother.
"I can't believe she's five already," she said, a sad smile in place. "Feels like it was just yesterday that she was a baby."
Oliver didn't respond as he observed Amelia, who was all smiles as Thea's boyfriend lifted her on his shoulders to give her a piggyback ride. "Looks like she's enjoying herself," he commented a moment later.
"She sure likes to be the centre of attention," laughed Thea. "Wonder who she gets it from." She looked pointedly at her brother.
Silence ensued between the two siblings, their shoulders touching as they stood together.
Thea reached out for Oliver's hand. Squeezing it tightly, she said," You're here now, Ollie. That's all that matters."
"I want to be a good father, Speedy," he replied, face stoic as his arms folded across his chest.
He still couldn't believe that he was a father and that there was a human being who shared his DNA because she was half of him. She was a part of him.
"You will be," came his sister's automatic reply.
At least some things haven't changed, thought Oliver, internally shaking his head at how Thea's faith in him was as unwavering as before. She may have been older and taller and no longer the awkward little kid he'd left behind but here she was, still his sister who had no doubts about his capabilities.
He'd missed this.
"She loves you, Ollie," continued Thea.
"She loves the idea of having a father," corrected Oliver. "She doesn't know me."
"Yet."
"I've missed five years of her life, as well Felicity's. I don't know if-"
"Stop over thinking."
"I love them both," said Oliver," But I don't know if I'm what they need."
"Well, you're mistaken. Oliver. We thought you were dead and it killed us all," Thea struggled to keep her voice even. "The closest thing your daughter has had to a father figure is Tommy. Now that life's given you a fucking second chance, I suggest you take it. With gratitude."
"Daddy!" greeted Amelia, with much enthusiasm. Thea watched on with a fond smile as her brother knelt onto one knee and allowed his daughter to hug him properly for the first time.
It wasn't until his arms were around Amelia's small body that Oliver himself realised that this was the first time he was hugging his daughter- and that too on her fifth birthday. It felt a bit strange, but he enjoyed the closeness. A lopsided smile appeared on his face when he caught the scent of Amelia's hair- a scent all too familiar to him. It smelled like fresh flowers.
She reminded him of his sister when she was that age.
"Happy birthday, baby girl," he said, not wanting to ever let go of the child in his arms. He never thought he'd feel this way. Coming back from Lian Yu, Oliver knew he was a broken man. He knew he was jaded and guarded and paranoid as fuck and it really didn't bother him because he felt as if he didn't matter anymore. He considered himself to be a dead man in a living body.
He vowed not to enter Felicity's life again. No matter how much he loved her and missed her and needed her, he knew he couldn't have her or be with her.
He knew he wasn't her Oliver anymore.
But now, he was back and they had a child together, and there was no way in hell that he could stay away from her. Both of them were his.
His family.
Amelia was the one link that ensured that he'd always have a part of Felicity. The existence of this little girl with dazzling blue orbs and bouncy golden curls made him a father- giving him a reason to be in Felicity's life.
He couldn't stay away. He'd promised himself he wouldn't interfere in Felicity's life once he was back but now that he was, he'd found himself linked to her more permanently than ever before.
"Ollie?" said Thea.
He looked up.
"I'd like you to officially meet Roy," she said, effectively interrupting his train of thought, as he turned to focus on the man who'd caught his little sister's heart.
/
"Look who decided to darken my day," fumed Felicity, standing by Laurel's as they watched Tommy and Isabel Rochev walk in, arm in arm, with the latter laughing and swatting Tommy's chest as he said something.
One, Tommy had nerves bringing that woman to the estate, knowing just how much everyone hated Stellmoor International's VP. Two, the concept of Isabel being in such close proximity with children scared Felicity, considering how the woman exuded an aura of iciness that would frighten the most hardcore people, let alone innocent children.
Isabel's brown hair tumbled down in waves as she threw her head back, engrossed in her conversation with Tommy.
"Bitch," muttered Laurel under her breath, reaching over for her glass of wine. Lifting it to her lips, she drained the contents of it to the very last red drop.
Thea concealed a smirk, knowing that Laurel's hidden feelings for Tommy tended to throw her off balance when he showed up with some exotic beauty dangling on his arm and dark haired Russian Rochev with a company at her disposal and legs that could rival a Victoria Secret model's, just added to the fire that was already brewing between the two.
Laurel hated Isabel.
Tommy knew this and he loved pushing her buttons. He loved riling her up. Maybe it was sadistic but he took pleasure in seeing Laurel getting angry.
(Sometimes, that is)
"Bitch indeed," echoed Felicity, tapping a neatly manicured nail against the guest list. "One who wasn't invited to this party."
"She's Tommy's plus one," interjected Thea, folding one leg over the other, as she took a seat, enjoying the view. "Glaring at her won't make her go away, Laurel."
Felicity rolled her eyes.
Thea's nose wrinkled in distaste. "God, imagine if Merlyn keeps her around for a while. God. No. No. No," she moaned, throwing her hands to her face. "Please no."
"I'm going to go say hi to Oliver," Laurel said, rising up, tossing a napkin back onto the table and all but slamming her wine glass down on the table top.
Thea sighed as Laurel stormed off angrily.
Felicity arched a brow at her.
"I can't wait for those two to finally get together," she sighed again. "They belong together. Speaking of belonging together, what about you and-"
"There isn't anything there," cut in Felicity. "At least not now. He just got back home. I'm glad to have him. I'm glad he's alive. I'm glad he's here and him being here is all I need right now..." Although she couldn't help but check Oliver out from the corner of her eye, swallowing as he smiled at her, looking far too handsome in his white button up shirt, with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, she knew they weren't ready to be anything but parents to Amelia.
/
"Happy birthday baby girl!" sang Tommy, lifting a more than slightly perplexed one year old up in his arms, waving her in the air.
Amelia looked on with her bright blue orbs wide in excitement. Her small chubby hand reached for the party hat placed on top of her head and she let out a string of giggles as her Uncle Tommy started to tickle her belly.
A thirteen year old Thea dangled a camera in their direction. "Smile," she shouted, all too delighted with the baby's every movement, wanting to document every moment of her life with the new camera she'd recently bought.
"I'm glad you're here, Mrs Queen," said Felicity as she walked over to Oliver's mother, with a slice of strawberry frosted cake settled on a plate.
"It's my grand daughter's first birthday," replied Moira, forcing a smile. "I wouldn't have missed it for the world." She'd vowed to do right by Oliver's child and she was going to live up to that promise, no matter what. Not that loving Amelia was difficult in any way but she couldn't ignore the fury that was coursing through her veins over her son not being here to enjoy this.
She finally got what she'd always wanted for her all too reckless trouble magnet of a son: a family. But he wasn't there for it and so much had changed so quickly that Moira really couldn't wrap her head around it all.
While Oliver's body was rotting away in the middle of the ocean, he had a child back at home in Starling and with every passing day, Amelia was growing more and more and before they'd know it, she would be all grown up- without her father.
The girl who'd given birth to his child was turning into a woman.
His sister was a teenager and had already experienced her first heartache. One that wasn't of the romantic kind.
His best friend had left Starling City, moved to Massachusetts and into an apartment across Felicity's as he decided to be a bit more responsible. It started with him sleeping on Felicity's couch. To him shifting opposite her. He would have moved in with her, had she let him, offering round the clock 24/7 assistance with his dead best friend's new baby girl, but that was where said baby's mother set her foot down, insisting that she couldn't ask Tommy of this, or rather she couldn't let him...
Moira agreed that it was in Amelia's best interests for Felicity to continue her education at MIT, even if it meant being at a distance away from her only remaining link to Oliver.So after the baby was born in Starling City and delivered into Felicity's awaiting arms, she spent a month under the Queens' roof only to pack up her bags and purchase an air ticket back for college.
What with living in a student residence out of the equation, she opted for an off-campus apartment that allowed her some privacy with her daughter, not that this privacy lasted long, any way, what with Tommy showing up and declaring that he was going to help raise the baby. As absurd as that may have sounded to anyone who knew him.
Tommy couldn't take care of his pet goldfish let alone himself. The idea of him taking care of a living breathing child was unfathomable and as much as Moira appreciated what Tommy was doing, she had her doubts about where his intentions truly lay and although she couldn't prove that he had any interest in Felicity (romantically or otherwise), she had an inkling that he probably did.
He and Oliver had always had the same taste in women, she thought dryly.
Felicity was going to move on one day. Give Amelia a father. (Tommy only stepped in where required, and often also when it wasn't required but he didn't want to be that little girl's father, from what Moira had gathered) and she wished it was her son, her Ollie, marrying the love of his life, living happily with his family and just being alive, god dammit.
Felicity halfheartedly smiled back at Moira. "Thank you though," she said quietly. "For everything."
/
"I don't trust Miss Rochev," Oliver's voice was low and urgent as he grabbed Felicity by the elbow, steering her to a unoccupied part of the garden. "I have a bad feeling about her." Besides the uneasy feeling that was brewing in his gut, he could clearly recall reading the woman's name in his father's notebook which itself wasn't a good sign.
That only meant one thing.
Isabel was trouble.
"Tommy seems to think she's okay," said Felicity, scowl in place.
"It's Tommy, so, no surprise there."
Felicity remained silent.
"I don't like that she's associated with QC," continued Oliver. "I want information on her and Stellmoor. I don't want her around-"
Stabbing her in the thigh with a sterling silver fork sounded oddly appealing, thought Felicity.
"That could be arranged," he said in all seriousness.
Felicity smiled sheepishly, realising that she'd spoken out loud. "I shouldn't have said that," she said, looking away from Oliver's all too amused face. "I think it's time to go. To cut the cake." She gestured towards the table set up in the patio and Oliver nodded, placing a hand on the small of her back as they walked down the path to where the rest of the party awaited.
The cake was cut, the customary birthday song was sung and as Oliver was surrounded by his smiling family and friends, in that moment it all felt right. The pain he'd endured, the darkness he had seen and perhaps even given into, didn't matter. Nothing mattered, except for the fact that Oliver Queen considered himself a happy man that day.
He sure as hell hadn't figured things out, nor did he have any idea if he ever would or could, but for now, he was content.
/
Later that night, Felicity entered her building; her feet aching and a vein ready to pop in her forehead. Heading up the elevator, she pressed the button for the floor her apartment was on, with her sleeping daughter sprawled across her shoulder.
Taking a glance at their reflection, she smiled fondly as Amelia's thumb found it's way into her mouth as always. "I love you," she said, her free hand descending into her clutch bag to extract her key. The elevator arrived on their floor and she took a step out.
Humming under her breath, she placed a strand of hair behind Amelia's ear. She'd deal with the thumb-sucking another time.
Exhausted, all she wanted was to put her child in bed, strip naked and take a dip into her hot-tub, after which she planned to pour a glass of wine and climb into bed.
Then Oliver would call and she'd get her chance to talk to him properly.
Maybe she'd be able to suggest that he move in with them. He deserved to get to know his daughter. He deserved to make up for lost time. .. Maybe he'd suggest it himself.
They'd discussed it in the passing but hadn't really decided whether they'd act on it or not. He wanted to get close to their daughter and their daughter would be immensely pleased to have her father living with her, at home.
Felicity would be glad to just have him lying next to her, in her bed. She could already envision his arms around her as she slept, him pouring her a cup of coffee in the morning, him giving a bath to a reluctant Amelia...but she couldn't have that. Not right now. At least not the part about Oliver being with her- not when he'd just got back home; not when he had so much to deal with.
She sighed in content at the picture she painted in her head. It was a blissful image. Maybe she and Oliver would get there eventually.
Looking up at the door, she brought her key towards the keyhole, only for her face to whiten at the sight, as though she'd seen a ghost. In a flash, she immediately whipped out her phone and didn't even bother to reach for her bag that was now lying on the marble floor. She slid her finger across the screen and dialed 911 with shaky fingers while simultaneously discarded her heels in a hurry- ready to make a run- and tried to ignore the frantic beating of her heart.
"This is 911. What is your emergency?" asked the operator over the line.
Felicity straightened her back, taking a few steps back and looking around her surroundings. "My door's... door's been broken down," she whispered, in fear of being overheard. "My apartment's been vandalized and I think someone's still there."
"Please remain calm, ma'am," instructed the male operator, spurring out instructions for Felicity to follow. "We'll have a squad car sent to you in-"
Her phone slipped and she let out a scream of terror as a hand clamped around her torso, which jerked Amelia awake from her sleep. "Mama?" she asked sleepily, only to see the panicked look on her mother's face and the predatory grin on the man behind them.
The five year old promptly burst into tears within seconds. "Mama," she sobbed.
Felicity aimed a kick at the man, unable to believe what she was seeing or rather who she was seeing, while trying to shield her daughter from him, using her body as a shield as they both landed onto the ground. "Hang on, Amelia," she said as evenly as she possibly could.
While a familiar face greeted her. "Hello Miss Smoak," it said. "It's been a while."
"Oliver?" came Tommy's panic filled voice over the phone. "Don't freak the fuck out, okay? But-"
"Do I even want to know?" replied Oliver exasperatedly, starting to re-do the buttons on his shirt that he had just previously undone moments prior to answering his friend's call. In the past when Tommy started a conversation in such a way, it meant that he was in trouble and he needed to be bailed out. Which meant Oliver had go do the bailing.
"What did you do?" He darted his eyes towards the digital clock on his nightstand, to see it read 22:35. It wasn't even that late. He sighed. "What did you do? Or should I be asking who did you do?"
Tommy interrupted. "Look, don't do anything stupid," he began as calmly as he could, even though he was ready to knock someone dead, 'at least not till I get there to either stop you or accompany you,' he added to himself.
"What's wrong? You don't sound alright."
"Oliver..." There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. "Felicity and Amelia-"
Oliver's blood ran cold as every part of his body began to freeze temporarily- only for him to jump into alert mode a mere second later. No. Not them. No. "What happened?" he growled.
"Oliver-"
"I'll be there in-"
"Amelia's been taken."
Oliver could have sworn his heart was ready to burst out of his chest right then and there as he threw his phone against the wall, slammed the door shut and bolted out.
/
Rushing into his deceased father's study, Oliver reached forward to press his right palm against a small panel enclosed under Robert Queen's abandoned desk.
He had had a plan to follow. A list to pursue. A city to rescue. A mission to carry out in order to undo the damage others had wrecked upon the city he called home. He intended to be someone else. Who did something in service of protecting the innocent people of Starling. Never did he imagine that the first person he would have to save would be his own child.
Extracting a key from the panel, Oliver straightened his back and headed over to the book-laden shelf, tossed a few ledgers on Robert's dust coated desk and instantly inserted the small bronze key into the hole that presented itself.
Swearing indignantly, unable to see properly in the dim light of the study, Oliver reached over to switch a lamp once. Once he caught sight of the hole and was able to insert the key into it, he took a step back to watch as the book case swung open wide enough for him to enter.
Walking down the narrow tunnel, lighting a lamp along his way, he hadn't expected that he'd need his gear so soon.
His gear.
It'd only arrived the previous day and although John Diggle had shown suspicion as to why his new boss required a state of the art set of bows and arrows, combined with a sealed container of God-knows-what, he hadn't commented on it. Muttering under his breath about billionaires and their money, John had shaken his head and left Oliver to his own devises.
Not caring how strange it would look that the kidnapped child's father was nowhere in sight as the police did their interrogations, most probably led by Laurel's father, Detective Lance, Oliver would make his first round. He would strike. Against whoever had dared to take Amelia.
Unzipping a bag, he pulled out a green leather hood, accompanied by a specifically designed uniform for him to wear. Grabbing the fabric in his hand, he changed swiftly.
His daughter had been taken. He didn't know who was responsible or why. He couldn't be sure whether it had to do with Oliver Queen's resurrection or Queen Consolidated's billions, or even Moira Queen's involvement in something dark and twisted (if Robert's list was any indication at all)
But he would be the one who would bring her home.
"You'll get her back," came a deep voice from behind him.
Oliver turned his body towards the source, an arrow aimed directly towards the unwelcome arrival.
"I'll help you," said John Diggle quietly.
"What're you doing here?" Oliver shouted at his bodyguard, still not lowering his bow and arrow.
"I'm not your average bodyguard, Oliver," replied John, moving closer towards Oliver until the space between them was removed completely and they stood face to face. "I'm ex-military. I've served in wars. Know a thing or two about PTSD. Have first-hand knowledge of what trauma can do to a man. If not anything else, I'm fucking observant. I've been watching you. Following you. Doing my job."
"Doesn't explain why the fuck you're here."
"I'm here because you need help and I believe I'm it, Mr Queen," John extended a hand. "You want your daughter back and I'm willing to help you get her back, safe and sound and with her mother."
Oliver paused. Glare in place, he opened his mouth only for John to silence him.
"You can't do this on your own," he said, hand still extended in the air. "You're just one man. You need help."
/
"Felicity," Oliver breathed her name as soon as he saw her, hurrying over to take her into the protection of his arms.
"He took her," sobbed Felicity, her body trembling as Oliver pulled her against his chest. "He took her."
Moira sat till on an armchair, watching as her son tried to comfort Felicity. She couldn't breathe. It felt as though someone had knocked her lungs out of her body, and she didn't even know if she wanted to breathe. Her mind felt as if it was shutting down.
"We'll get her back," said Oliver firmly, his tone confident. "Felicity. I promise that we'll get our daughter back, safe and sound." He looked into her tear stricken eyes. "I will get her back."
"Oliver." It was Moira who spoke first.
He looked over to his mother, who uttered a word under her breath- too low for him to even hear.
"What?"
"Malcolm," repeated Moira, her voice barely above a whisper. "Malcolm Merlyn. He took her."
Review please. I only have a little more of the original story to post and then I will be posting new content. Thank you for reading.