No one's feeling pre-island Ollie's flow? Sad news.
"Miss Marley?"
Marley comes barreling in when I call her from my spot in the living room. She pauses a few feet away and looks up at me expectantly.
There was only one way I could find some sort of answer to what was happening in my life and since I can't ask Marley every detail of my life, I had to ask someone else. Something else.
"Where's the laptop?"
She brings me to her room, which looks drenched in Pepto Bismuth. I'm guessing I had my own laptop and Marley brought me to hers because it's the only one she knew.
The fact that she has her own computer does not surprise me in the slightest.
I open it up as Marley adjusts herself on the floor of her room. She brings out a couple of dolls and does...whatever it is that young girls do with dolls.
The first thing I search is "Oliver Queen." When the results pull up, I scroll down to a Wikipedia page. Would you look at that? No matter what universe I'm in, I'm still wiki-relevant.
Oliver Queen, son of Moira and Queen Consolidated CEO Robert Queen, born on October 8th, 1985...
So my father is still running QC? That means that I didn't take the reigns. I scroll down to personal life and smile.
Oliver Queen is married to Felicity Smoak, founder and program developer of the security service, Smoak Security. They have one child, Marley Taylor Queen, age 5...
I can feel my smile dripping with pride and adulation as I scan through the rest of the article. Once I've finished, I scroll up to my background.
After graduating high school, Oliver Queen attended Hollybrook college with a focus on aviation...
I went to Hollybrook. I chose Hollybrook.
Right after highschool, I was given a choice. My father had expected me to take over QC, not that he ever was vocal about it. He was determined to get me to the University of Chicago so that I could get my business degree and run things there. I did, and then I primed the Chicago location as my head quarters once I became acting CEO. Visits back to Wisconsin were few and far between.
I had no reasons to see my mother and my father.
The other option was Hollybrook, a school known for its aviation training. When I was younger, I used to have this thing for airplanes. My father bought me this entire set and I didn't leave my bedroom for days. Applying to Hollybrook was somewhat of a joke, a silly thing I did just so I could say that I did.
I never allowed myself to think about pursuing it.
"Daddy?"
I tear my eyes from the screen, grateful for the distraction. "What's up?"
Marley stares up at me with great blue eyes and frowns. "I'm so bored. Dolls aren't as fun, and I want to spend the day with you today because yesterday I didn't. Yesterday I didn't see'd you the whole day."
My heart clenches and I gesture for her to join me on her bed. She crawls up and sits beside me, legs crossed.
"Okay Miss Marley, you've got me. What do you wanna do today?"
Her eyes light immediately. "Maybe we could go to the park?"
Fresh air could do me well, I'm sure. I nod my head slowly. "The park? That sounds good."
She squeals and slips off the bed, running over to her closet. She shoves her feet into a pair of shoes and yanks open the closet door.
I laugh. "Getting ready is going to take much more than that."
After a few stints with the GPS and Marley asking me, "Why'd you need a guide you big silly," we were able to make it to the park fairly unscathed. The fresh air did do me well. My heart accelerated noticing the lack of change in my...condition as I left the house, but I'm not concerned.
Lucid dreaming is a very real thing, right? Comprehending a dream state and continuing it because you like what's happening? While my life here was nothing short of unexpected, I can't help but notice the ease in my shoulders and the grin, the idiotic grin, that always seemed to be on my face.
Even now, as I get to know my dream daughter while simultaneously pushing her on the swing set.
"I say, I saided, I sayed-"
"You 'said,'" I correct her with a chuckle.
"Yeah, I said to Mommy that you were gonna take me to ice cream, and she said if you take me to ice cream after you buy me gummy worms that I wouldn't see her anymore because she'd go to jail for murder. I don't even know what that even means but Uncle T laughed hard."
Who is this UncleT? I'll tell you one thing, he better be a legitimate uncle on her side. The last thing I need is a close friend trying to move in on my family.
Marley's all "Uncle T this," and "Uncle T that" and it's exhausting.
When she's high enough on the swing she yelps. "Enough!"
I let her go and watch as she swings herself to a safe, steady height. Before we left, I put her hair in two pigtails, lopsided and fuzzy. Now, they were falling apart adorably. Her face was flushed and her hair was sticking to her cheeks limply.
She eventually stops herself, stomping her tiny feet in the dirt path beneath the swing. She giggles loudly and shakes in place, the chains of the swings rattling together.
"That was soooo much fun. You gotta try that daddy, that was 'credible."
I snort and am suddenly overcome with joy at the look on her face. Perhaps because she was the perfect combination of me and Felicity, or maybe because of who she is individually, I don't know, but I love her as insanely as I can love someone who does not exist. I love her so much for not having loved anything in my life, including myself.
And this was my dream. For so long, the idea of being a father tormented me.
Even though she's not real.
But how could someone like her not exist? How could there not be enough space on the real earth for Miss Marley?
You'd think if they were low on space, they'd knock me out. I'd gladly be the sacrifice.
I scoop her up into my arms and hug her tightly. At least Felicity is real. I'd never feel our connection again but at least, in real-time, she existed. Marley was purely my imagination and it showed through her impossible perfection. I would miss her.
"Tonight, are you gonna fly the big plane?" She asks, face tucked into my shoulder.
Unless it's a toy? Heavens no.
I breathe her in once and squeeze her again for good measure. "How about we go get some food, huh? What do you like to eat?"
"I like to eat everything..."
We eat Chinese take out. I don't want to test Felicity's patience seeing as, well, she'd warned Marley of my death if I hyped her up on sugar.
Besides, the house was better. I never felt like I was panicking here, I always felt safe. The sky has morphed into a deep navy and the darkening awakened my senses. I knew the end was coming for me here, and now I was focused on seeing and feeling everything to the highest extent. It was draining.
Miss Marley is half asleep, curled into my side with her doll wrapped around her other. She'd showered, complained a bit about her cold egg roll, and then fallen into her slumber midway through telling me about her best friend, Jackie.
When the doorbell goes off, I shove the remaining chopsticks into the empty container and move slowly to not jostle her. She mutters something unintelligibly and turns on her side.
I smile.
I open the door casually but the figure on the other side causes me to stumble backward, surprised.
"Are you drunk?" He asks, one eyebrow raised, amused. He's holding a cup of coffee in his large hand and offers a very familiar grin.
"Tommy?" He tilts his head to one side. My mouth feels dry and I'm sure I'm shaking but I can't stop smiling.
He takes a long sip of his coffee and shakes his head. "I'm telling Felicity you hit the bottle while the munchkin was sleeping."
I want to hug him. I want to tell him how I've missed him, desperately, and how, while I've craved companionship, his unique brand I had been lacking greatly. I want him to know that his friendship was the highlight of the worst of my years.
But I can't do any of that, because he's staring at me like I'm insane. Maybe I am.
"Alright," he concedes, "maybe you took something even stronger than rum. Are you going to invite me in, or what? I'm freaking freezing out here."
Any invitation I would have given him would be in vain. He slides past me and toward the kitchen. Still the same hungry bastard he's always been.
I follow him mutely, still smiling.
"I had a date tonight, she was super cute, you know? But she was also a little...scary."
He waits for me to respond and I clear my throat. "Scary can be good," I tell him.
"Dude, I know."
He pulls out two waters and a plate of spaghetti for himself. I join him at the table and we talk. I feel like I'm in the twelfth grade again, sitting in the weight room after practice is over. And it's like those times when it was just me and him, with him telling me something ridiculous, like how he felt a girl up for the first time or got ridden by an older girl in the back seat of a car.
But there was a difference, too, because we were different. Aside from his physical aging, he'd grown mentally as well. His stories weren't just about chicks and cars anymore, because he wasn't given the luxury of having a simplistic life that was just about that. He trusted me implicitly, and we talked about his father and how the Alzheimer's was beginning to take effect. We talked about how, in a lot of ways, Tommy was happy for him, glad that his father was allowed the opportunity to forget the loss of his wife and his company in the span of five years.
He talked about the school he worked at, and the sociology course he taught. He told me about the boat he's saving up for and how he won't take our money because he wants it to be "his own." How he wants to take a girl out on that boat with him, one that he loves. He'd grown out of his braces and into a clean cut romantic. And even though there were no bouncing tits or blowjobs, his stories were just as riveting. Maybe because it's Tommy.
He takes a sip of his drink, nearly finishing it. "You have no idea how lucky you are."
I do.
I tell him that.
"Well good," he nods, "I know, for a while there, you were talking about how this could be stifling sometimes and-"
"I said that?" I ask, appalled. He nods slowly and squints his eyes at me.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," I rush out, "I just don't know why I'd say that. I'm lucky, I know that. I mean, Felicity Smoak. How'd that happen?" I ask, jokingly.
No, really, Tommy. How'd that happen?
He snickers and shrugs. "You're telling me. I mean, I guess when you're that persistent, she had to have given you a chance eventually."
"Persistent?"
"Don't deny it," he teases. "I mean, you weren't a stalker or anything, but you definitely straddled the line. I guess the good thing was that she liked it. A lot."
I smile again, the once foreign gesture a thoughtless one.
Tommy stretches his arms above his head and grins. "Are you ready for the flight, Captain?"
My eyes widen and I cough. "I don't think I'm up for it tonight. I'm not really feeling...myself."
His eyes narrow and he nods. "Did you call and cancel?"
"Yeah, we rescheduled."
"Oh, well then I guess Felicity's excited to work late tonight."
"Actually," I start. "I didn't tell her. I thought we could spend some time together tonight." ...before I leave and never see any of you again.
He nods. "She'd like that. I'm gonna give munchkin a kiss and head out, get some sleep."
My heart plummets and I open my mouth but no words come out. He looks at me curiously.
I lean forward and pull him into a hug. He responds immediately, no questions asked.
"What is up with you today, Cap?" I chuckle into his shoulder and squeeze him once before pulling away.
"I'm just...sorry," I say, the words tumbling out.
"For what?"
"For everything."
He squints his eyes at me again. "Next time I stop by, I'm bringing a drug test."
I laugh and wave him out the kitchen and back out of my life for good.
Do ANY of you like Ray Palmer?