Summary: Oliver in a family meeting and gives his best shot at this communication and talking about his feelings things.
Spoiler: he hates it.
"Thank you for waiting," he tells them and watches as everyone's eyes turn to him. Walter looks as if unsure if he should be there – if Oliver wants him there – but when Oliver gives him a curt nod of acknowledgement, he relaxes in his position behind his mother, settling in.
"Oliver, are you alright? What happened tonight?" His mother asks, fretting, sounding – and looking – truly concerned. He was certain she was involved in the kidnapping, but her concern was startlingly real, which always made it difficult to tell.
But he had years of experience now, of trusting his mother, his father, only to find out one secret after the next, one fatalistic, murderous plan after the next. He can't cold-read his mother the way he can a stranger, but he knows enough to distrust most of the words coming out of her mouth.
"We were kidnapped. I managed to fight the kidnappers. We called the Police, got checked out at hospital and then came here. We were drugged, but are otherwise alright."
"And who is we? Who is the woman sleeping in the Queen mansion the day after my son's miraculous return home?"
Everyone looks interested in that question. Oliver blows out a breath and everyone takes a seat on the sofas instead of hovering around in an uncomfortable circle.
"That is Felicity Smoak," Oliver explains and Walter's eyes light up with recognition.
"Ah, I thought I recognised her. MIT graduate, works in Queen Consolidated's IT department?"
He smiles. "Yes, that's her."
At Moira's raised eyebrow and look at Walter, the man shrugs. "She's immensely qualified and we had to beat offers from Wayne Industries, Microsoft and Google. I am not entirely certain why she picked us of all places to work for, but we are lucky to have her."
"Yeah, about that," Oliver starts with an unusual lack of grace, but he's frankly emotionally exhausted and not in the right headspace to have any kind of discussion, more the bumbling novice than the more experienced and savvier Mayor and Ex-CEO. "Have you thought about giving her a position as CTO? She's wasted in that department repairing hardware and fixing people's incompetence. But given the advances in technology over just the last five years, we could use someone who can look forward and assess the viability of upcoming technologies and what to invest in."
His pride takes another hit when every single member of his family looks surprised at his insight. Talk about setting expectations low.
"She's using you," his mother determines, her voice low. "I know it's been five years, son, but you can take your time and find someone who isn't after you for your money or your connections."
"Ms Smoak didn't set this up or ask me for this," Oliver says, barely stopping himself from rolling his eyes.
"Of course not, dear," his mother says with disbelief as if she'd caught Felicity with her hands down his pants and he can feel his aggravation level rising already at the implied slight against her character.
"Look, buddy," Tommy chimes in. "Just at lunch time today you dropped by to see Laurel. Now you're in so deep with this new blonde you're drinking the kool-aid, buddy. This morning you didn't even know her yet here you are defending her virtuousness to your family. Nothing against blondie, but can you see how that looks?"
Oh, he can. Boy, can he. That's why his intention for today had just been to meet her, to feel her out, become her friend slowly and then build up to asking her for a date.
Instead, the moment he met Felicity his plans went astray and he's still not sure why she hasn't run for the hills in the face of what she must view as stalker-ish, overbearing, violent man who is just barely stopping himself from saying half the things he thinks out loud. But he knows she's probably picked up on at least half his thoughts – she's been able to read him well from the get-go.
That does not mean that he appreciates his family butting in or the way they're talking about his future wife.
"Alright, cards on the table," Oliver says, voice in a lower register in his anger, growl barely bitten back. "Fine. I made an arse of myself asking Ms Smoak for her help. Because while you seem to think I've gotten my MBA while on the island, I have no idea how to make heads or tails of half the things happening around me."
They might think he means technology and he does, kind of – it's so much slower, so much less responsive. But mostly it's the changed relationship with the people around him that's throwing him for six.
"And yet she still forwent her lunch break to sit down and help me. And she said nothing when every other employee found a reason to seek her out specifically in the next hour just to goggle at me. That's why I asked her for a business lunch at Jitters so we wouldn't have all the people wandering by, interrupting and so I could learn what I needed to." He scowls at his family. "Needless to say, I don't appreciate the insinuations from you both that Ms. Smoak would need to stoop so low to have her talents recognised and appreciated. And also, love that you all think that I would be asshole enough to take her up on it. Ms Smoak has been nothing other than helpful, kind and genuine in all my interactions with her. Something I cannot say for half the women propositioning me at work right in front of her today."
He glares at them, blows out a breath and closes his eyes. Calm, he reminds himself.
"On top of all that, she had the misfortune of being close by and getting kidnapped just because they wanted me. They drugged her and she woke up on the cold, damp floor in an abandoned house in the Glades with several kidnappers and myself – a man she's only known for a few hours. Then comes the Police, only Detective Lance treats me – and her by extension – as the perps rather than victims. Her family is in another city and when the hospital would only release her so long as someone else was nearby, I offered up our home because she has been through enough, precisely because of me. And I expect you, all of you, to treat her with the sympathy and kindness she deserves and none of this thinly veiled hostility. She has done nothing to deserve it."
They all exchange glances, but even his mother looks somewhat chastened.
"I have been looking into creating a position for a CTO. I will make sure Ms. Smoak is in the running for the position," his mother's new husband speaks up after a pause.
Oliver nods. "Thank you, Walter. She wouldn't want any favours, but I'm sure she'll beat her competition by a mile."
"We'll see," Walter says, but there's a smile playing on his lips and Oliver relaxes.
"Are you rekindling things with Laurel, then," Thea asks playfully and he can't help but snort.
"No. Definitely not. Me and Laurel, if there ever really was such a thing, were over before I ever stepped on that boat."
He pauses for a moment, uncertain, but then continues – he'd prefer they hear it from him rather than through the grapevine.
"The reason I went to see her this morning is because I offered a sit-down with the Lance family, if they want to, to talk about what happened to Sara."
"Oh," Thea voices, dismayed. "Sorry Ollie," she offers, her voice subdued and he pulls her into a half-hug and presses a kiss to her temple.
"Don't worry about it, Speedy. You couldn't have known," he reassures her.
"Hey Ollie," Thea asks tentatively, still tucked in against him and he looks down so they can make eye contact, "when we were in the kitchen you said I could harangue Felicity all I wanted in a few weeks time… does that mean- I mean, is she going to be, you know, around?"
Oliver sighs. Trust Speedy to pick up on the little things and ask the hard questions.
"I don't know, Speedy. That's up to her, really. But I certainly hope so."
They all exchange looks, but no one presses him on the topic after his rather passionate – and angry – defence of her moments earlier.
"What did the kidnappers want from you, anyway? We didn't even get a call for ransom money?" Walter asks, looking curious.
Oliver's eyes snap to him but at this stage the man really knows very little about the machinations of his wife, Moira, so he relaxes back in his seat. It is a fair question, after all.
"They wanted to know if dad made it to the island and what he said."
He can see how his mother is leaning forward slightly, how she tenses before forcefully relaxing again.
"Did he?" Thea asks tentatively, and her voice reminds him that his audience extends to not just his rather complicit mother, but also his younger, more vulnerable sister. He tightens his arm around her, pulling her in against him.
"Speedy, are you sure you want to know? You're old enough to know the truth, but I'm not sure if you should or would want to," Oliver offers her an out; he's had too many lectures at this point from both Thea and his wife of not making decisions for other people without their input, especially when it affects them, to just stop her from attending. Besides, secrets are what got his family from one hot mess into the next. "It's not a good story and there's no happy ending."
"You're asking me?" Thea asks, taken aback but more curious than upset so he just nods.
"A very clever woman told me that if I am upset with the way you're treating me like I was either never gone or on some sort of tropical resort for the last five years, then I should also remember that you have all had five years to change and become different to what I expect you to be like."
His mother winces, Tommy avoids his eyes, but Thea just keeps staring at him before her eyes flit to where the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms are, raising an inquisitive eyebrow. Oliver grins to himself at her cleverness and rewards her with a tiny nod to confirm her suspicions.
"That's fair," she assesses after a moment, grimacing slightly, "sorry, Ollie."
He smiles down at affectionately. "Don't worry about it, Speedy. I'm still trying to reconcile this you with the way I remember you. We'll just have to work hard and get to know each other all over again. I don't want to lose what we have. I don't want to lose you."
Thea sniffles slightly, eyes watery before launching herself at him, erasing the small distance between them to burrow herself into his arms for a hug.
"You won't ever lose me, Ollie," she promises without hesitation, and he smiles softly down at her, tightening the hug and rubbing over her back until she releases him and slides back down next to him.
"Alright, I'm ready now, and I want to know," she states assertively, and Moira gives Tommy a concerned glance, clearly worried what he might share with his father. Oliver doesn't know how to relieve that worry without opening up an entirely new quagmire, so he ends up ignoring the byplay entirely.
"You're too young," his mother interjects before Oliver can speak up and turns to him, eyebrows furrowed, scolding him like he is an unruly teenager who doesn't know better. "Your sister doesn't need to know," she insists.
He stares for a moment to see if she wants to take it back but she doesn't so much as flinch. Thea looks outraged and Tommy caught in the middle.
"She's an adult, mom. And she is entitled, just as much as you are, just as much as Tommy is, to hear about how her father passed away. She is also old enough to make her own decisions in the matter," he states decisively, leaving no room for arguments. His hand is squeezing Thea's shoulder in a gesture of silent support, giving her a small smile before it all drains away as he recalls what he just suggested they talk about. This day is just perfect for tearing open old wounds.
"Alright," Oliver says, stalling slightly as he grits his teeth and hunches over. Years have passed, over a decade, and he still struggles with his feelings over his father, and, especially so with talking about his death.
"There was a storm – that part you probably know about. I was in the bedroom, talking about how we shouldn't be worried. But then, all of a sudden, there was a loud noise, the ship creaked and the whole cabin stood on its end suddenly. Then there was a hole in the wall and Sara was sucked out into the ocean. So was I. I couldn't tell where up or down was, just that it was dark and stormy and bits of the boat kept hitting me but suddenly I had my head out of the water and waves splashing in my face. Dad was in a rescue boat with another crew member and pulled me in," Oliver doesn't make eye contact as he finally forces himself to say the next words, "I couldn't find Sara."
He runs his tongue along his teeth, looking at the people around him. Tommy's hands are digging into his thighs and Oliver knows Robert was as good as a father to his friend – certainly better than Malcolm. More tears are pooling in Thea's eyes, her lips trembling as she struggles to remind quiet. Walter's hand is supportively on his mother's shoulders, and she has a hand clasped to her mouth, eyes red and tears running down her face.
"We had one small bottle of water between us – dad gave it to me. We had no food. We waited for rescue, but no one was coming." Oliver's eyes drop to the floor, heaving a sigh. "Dad- Dad said he was sorry he wouldn't have time to atone for things he did. He never said what that was We were all weak from exhaustion, tired and drained. Sunburnt. I- I didn't realise what was happening. Before I knew what happened, dad had shot the crew member dead and he fell overboard. For one moment, I thought I was going to be next," he allows himself a small, wry smile. He's gotten much better at reading people and dangerous situations since, but it still hurts that he doubted his father in those last few moments.
"Then dad shot himself," he says clearly and Moira sobs loudly, turning into Walter's supporting arms. Thea doesn't so much as launch herself at him and Tommy, but instead reaches out to them with a trembling hand and they both reach back, pulling her between them and tucking her between them. Tommy's eyes are red-rimmed and Oliver reaches out to rub over his shoulder, too, knowing just how difficult that knowledge is.
"What- what happened with him?" Moira asks and Oliver swallows hard. The human body wasting away is never pretty.
"The heat-" he swallows, struggling to breathe, but makes another attempt. "It preserved his body, to an extent, until I arrived at the island. I- I tried to fend off the birds. I couldn't really bury him there, but I covered his body with stones and put a grave marker on it when I could." They don't need to know about the smells, the decomposition, the feeling and give when he touched and carried his father.
His mother joins their small group huddle and Walter's stroking Thea's hair gently, one arm still wrapped around Moira. There's a murmur of consolations and apologies, whispers of comfort and love but all he can feel is restless because his wife is upstairs, unguarded, and his mother is lying. She's right here and she's not saying a word about the ship wreckage in the warehouse, about Robert's need for atonement, about their half-sister or about Thea's parentage. She just remains silent. Her love feels oppressive rather than uplifting and Oliver extracts himself in short order, sliding out sideways and drawing their attention once more. He can't stand this anymore – any of it.
"Look, I'm going to bed – I've had a very long day. I'm- I don't really want to talk to you about what happened to me on the island. I'm sure mom already told you about the torture and the fractures-" Oliver blinks when both Tommy and Thea bark out an identical "What?"
"Or maybe she hasn't," he amends, surprised, before shaking it off, looking at his mother in askance but she only repeats what she said earlier.
"They didn't need to know, Oliver."
He stares at her for a moment in incomprehension, shaking his head after another moment.
"But you did- Did you at least tell them about this morning?"
His mother looks away and Oliver grits his teeth, forcing the air out.
"Fine. Right. Still no communication, I see. Mom, I was on an island shipwrecked and alone for five years with no one I could trust. What's your excuse?" He stares at her, shaking his head in exasperation. "I was gone for five years and despite not being this open with anyone there for years, I am speaking out here because you needed to hear it, because you deserve to hear it. Can you at least try and do us the courtesy of doing the same thing in future?" He bites out but doesn't wait for an answer – he doesn't want to hear any more lies from her. Not tonight.
"Alright, Tommy, Thea. I was not always alone on the island. That the people there weren't very nice would be a rather simplified euphemism for it. I don't really want to talk to you about any of the details, but suffice it to say, I had to learn how to survive. And quickly at that. I was tortured, I have a lot of permanent scars and, well, it doesn't matter. Point is, I'm different. I've had things done to me and had to do things – they've changed me. I have nightmares at night – memories, really. My first instinct, as mom found out this morning, will be to attack. So, just – please don't come into my room at night unless I'm actually awake. There's more but just – I'm different now. Please respect that. I will not always respond well to things I used to enjoy. Even just simple things like the heavy breakfasts in dinners – I am not accustomed to that kind of fare and it will take some time before I can eat that again. I know you're all concerned, but I do not want to talk about it. So, I would really appreciate it, if everyone could just back off slightly."
Oliver wants to leave it there, god, does he. Baring himself, being vulnerable? It's hard, so fucking hard. He knows and trusts Felicity – she makes it easy. But Tommy flinched last time. For some time, Tommy hated him – or as good as. Maybe even worse, he'd been scared of him. Frightened. His mother – well, she'd just had the revelation and moved right on along without ever mentioning it until she died. And then there was Thea. Thea was- yeah. Felicity is easy because she believes in him – she sees something, someone in him that he himself can't, someone who is good enough to deserve her and it makes him want to try so fucking hard to live up to every expectation because he wants to be the man, she already thinks he is. He can tell her about the worst things he's done, his worst moments – the few she wasn't actually present for – and knows she will still love him, still accept him.
And that's what's making him hesitate in the end. Why he doesn't leave when he should. He looks up to the stairs for a moment before stepping back into the lounge, retracing his steps and looking back at the four people he loves most in the world aside from Felicity and Dig, and future Arrow-team members.
"We don't do this talking thing," Oliver starts finally, voice hoarse and so tired, but forcing himself to keep going. "I can see that hasn't changed since I've been away."
Tommy makes a disagreeing noise and Oliver just eyes him.
"Look, Tommy, just this morning on our drive through town you told me you picked up girls at my funeral." He snorts slightly, offering Thea's half-brother a teasing smirk. "You're so full of shit. I bet you went home, cried for days and didn't have sex with anyone for at least a month."
Tommy swallows hard, but unlike the rest of his family, doesn't back down. His eyes are still red-rimmed but he unhesitatingly smirks back.
"Six, actually. As it turns," he shrugs, but his voice comes out earnest as he finishes the sentence, rather than the mock-jovial tone he'd started with, "I really missed you."
"Yeah," Oliver acknowledges with a soft grin and a clap of his hand on his friend's shoulder before he pulls him up and into a one-armed hug. "I know. Missed you, too, Tommy."
A moment later they separate, and Oliver looks at the rest of his family.
"But that's kind of my point," he says. "I'm not a fan of talking – definitely not. But Tommy was by all accounts a bit obsessive while I was gone. Thea's into drinking, drugs and parties now." Oliver winces in disgust. "And probably boys."
Thea snorts at his expression before nodding in agreement, only making him grimace again.
"And mom." He sighs, breathes out noisily, forcing himself to continue. "You stopped living after. You left Thea to raise herself. You left Tommy. I don't want to diminish what you lost – your husband, your son, but you still had a daughter, a twelve-year-old kid and a 22-year-old son in all but blood. And they needed you. Instead, you left them. You didn't talk about your grief or theirs, didn't help them with the anger and the tears, didn't get them to see a therapist or do anything. Thea's seventeen now and I'm not sure if you know her any better than I do and I wasn't even there for the past five years. This family is going to fall apart if we don't make time to sit down and talk. Regularly."
Oliver looks at them before nodding sharply.
"Alright, that's me. I've said my bit. I'm headed to bed now – next session it's someone else's turn to talk."
"What is this? Group therapy?" Tommy asks but Oliver doesn't even need to glance back to see that he's touched by Oliver defending him, seeing through him.
"How would you know?" Oliver asks with a grin as he leaves the room and he can just hear Tommy's "Touché," behind him.
He checks on Felicity again, making sure her heart rate and breathing are still perfectly normal before he retreats to his own bedroom. He doubts he will manage more than a few hours tonight, but he should at least try. But today brought up a lot of memories, none of them good, and Felicity's kidnapping overshadows his happy memories of their first-sort-of date.
But Oliver knows he barely got any sleep the nights after the rescue, or at the hospital, surrounded by so many people and so many potential threats, he needs to get at least a couple of hours tonight; so, he takes a shower, changes into some clean boxers and slides into bed. At least falling asleep is easy; he learned that one on the island. To fall asleep anywhere, anytime, just drop off to grab whatever sleep you can when you get the chance.
Notes: Please review. I would like to see your thoughts and what you liked / didn't like. If you've read my Felicity Time travel oneshot I'm kinda curious what you think about the difference in priorities and characterisation between them.
And let me know if there is anything you specifically want to see / read.