Malcolm and Moira jogged down the deserted streets of their home town, as the sun was just raising. Only hunters and wolves got up every morning so early, and maybe a few dairymen and other early morning lifestyles. Although back then they were not known as Malcolm and Moira but Marcus and Margret. Marcus was eighteen, Maggie was turning twenty-one in a few months time.
Moira knew that her twenty-first year meant that she would start her advanced training as a hunter. Which was almost like being in the military. Not that the last six years were not, but this training was far more serve. She would learn to kill.
"Are we at least going to have a party before you go, Mags?" Malcolm asked. He threw himself down onto a bench with a frustrated huff, arms stretched out along the back of the bench. "At least you will be able to drink."
Moira slumped into her old friend. "You've always looked older than you are, you'll be fine."
Malcolm frowned. After a few moments, he sighed. "Do you ever feel like we should just leave?"
Moira's shoulders shagged. "You know I do."
"Then why don't we?"
Moira sighed. "Marcus-"
"No. We run, go to a city. Start over. Change our identities, start a new life. No hunting." Malcolm smiled.
Moira shook her head, leaning against his chest.
"Can you at the very least, try to imagine it?"
Moira giggled. "Alright. What would you're name be?" she glanced up to her friend.
"How about, I choice yours and you choose mine?"
"Fine but I get to say no to the ones I don't like."
"Deal."
The two went through names for many minuets, laughing at all the silly suggestions.
"For the fourth time, no. I am not being called Moira."
"Oh, come on~" Malcolm grinned. "It's a lovely name."
"Fine, you can be Malcolm."
"Malcolm's an okay name."
"Fine. Boris."
"Malcolm is a terrible name!"
Moira laughed.
"Okay." she smiled. "Last name?"
Malcolm thought for a few seconds before saying, "Merlyn."
"Oh, shall I be King Arthur then?"
"No, Queen."
Moira gave him a deadpan expression.
"I will admit that the King Arthur thing did make me think of Merlyn but I got the whole idea in the first place because of that great great grandmother of yours. They called her the Wolf Queen, remember?"
Moira nodded. She remembered the stories, and it was a history any hunter would be proud of. "Okay," She stood, and span around on the heel of her shoe, holding out a hand. "Mr Malcolm Merlyn, I believe?"
"Ah, Miss Moira Queen," Malcolm took her hand, kissing the back of it. He quickly jumped from the bench, into a run as Moira chased after him.
"Come on Rose. You look gorgeous whatever you wear," Oliver called up the stairs.
"I'm ready," Rose called back as she made her way down.
She was wearing a deep blue dress, stopping just before her knees, it was a tight fit, showing her hourglass shape. It had halter strap over her neck, along with a heart cut over her chest, raised out by her breasts. Thankfully not showing too much. Rose was classy. She was no fan of flashing people, in fact she was normally seen to be pulling her vests up, than down. Topped off with a pair of flat cream shoes, heels were a no go.
"You look beautiful," Oliver smiled.
Joey peeked around Oliver's leg, nodding in agreement.
Grant walked passed on his way to get his coat, humming in agreement. "What happened with the bin liner?"
Rose laughed but her annoyance was clear in the way her lipstick covered lips squeezed together. "The bin liner must go."
Due to Rose's albino white skin, she hated wearing black. It showed off her skin far too much. She tried wearing dark clothing now and again but it never worked out. Aside from her black skinny jeans, when worn with a bright top, it made a nice outfit.
"Where we going?" Rose asked.
"Noddle bar. It's near where a lot of street performers gather. Want your leather jacket?"
"Please," Rose nodded.
Oliver stepped over to the hall way, smiling as Joe slipped his hand into his.
Grant handed his step-father the jacket. "Don't wear the trench coat. The cap and sunglasses is bad enough."
"Do they do face paints? That could hide who you are?" Rose suggested, as she made her way over. Thanking Oliver as he gave her the jacket.
"What about the person painting my face?"
"Good point. We could just give you one before you go?"
"And live up to my last name?"
Rose giggle.
"Let's head off," Slade said as he exited the kitchen, swinging his car keys around his finger. He stopped to kiss his daughter on the forehead. "My beautiful girl," then turned to Oliver. "Some lipstick wouldn't go amiss."
Oliver leered at the Alpha.
Tommy smiled at Laurel as the two of them walked down the crowded street. He had gone to see her at work, timing it around the time she would finish. He asked her out for a drink, she declined. He asked her out for fruit smoothies, she accepted.
"Did you hear that The Hood and Swords took down two guys in one night?" Tommy asked.
Laurel nodded. "Corrupt businessmen."
"I heard a rumour that they had split up, taking someone a night, each."
Laurel snorted, shaking her head. "They're getting cocky. Almost seems too easy for them. At least they're doing good by this city."
Tommy gave her a funny look. "You think? Laurel, they're killers."
"In self-defence. Like the police," Laurel pointed out. "They don't follow any law, which I can't stand for but they are righting wrongs that the law can't touch. They are more controversial than wrong."
Tommy opened his mouth but after a few second, he shut it. "Yeah. I guess you're right."
"I just hope for everyone's sake that they don't slip up."
Tommy hummed. "Come on. Less talk about vigilantes and more ordering of smoothies," he said, pointing at the booth in the distance.
Laurel smiled. "Okay."
The family sat in a booth, Joe sitting on Oliver's lap due to lack of room. He was offered an extra chair but he liked being close to the blonde. Oliver sat with an arm around the child, his spare hand using the chop sticks to eat noodles.
"That's quite a skill," Rose commented.
Grant, who was sitting next to his sister, agreed.
Oliver shrugged. "Your dad made chop sticks," he said, remembering how they were just shaven long sticks, the bends making them hard to use. "Otherwise, we just used our fingers."
Grant raised a brow to his dad, the Wilson 'I'm not impressed' expression. Tapping the rounded wood off the porcelain dish. "Couldn't make a fork?"
"Do I look like a carpenter?"
Grant smirked, bringing more spicy noodles to his mouth.
Slade smirked. He glanced to Oliver who had his cap and sunglasses on, the bonus with that, was that Ollie could pretend to be blind, holding onto his half blind friend's arm. Most people in the restaurant just assumed as much, meaning Oliver would not have to fame lack of sight by fumbling with his food.
Slade liked sitting there with his kids and Omega, out in public but what he really wanted was for Oliver not to disguise himself. Hell, he wanted to flash his eyes at Grant, to have his son flash back, the two of them smirking at each other at the father's teasing. There were reasons wolves lived together wild.
"We could try a wig," Slade mused.
Oliver frowned. "I like the grey in your hair."
Slade could not help the smile that pulled at his lips. He wanted to lean over and kiss the man but he did not.
"Mags."
Moira's eyes shot open as she heard the hissed whisper. She knew who it was. She looked over to her open widow. Malcolm sat there, with the dark sky behind him, sitting on one leg, the other dangling. He had a habit of climbing into her window.
He smiled. "Morning,"
Moira shook her head at him.
"Have you made up your mind?"
Malcolm had come up with the idea of them running away five weeks ago. Four weeks ago, they had sent off to another hunter for fake IDs and birth certificates, good ones. If they stayed, the items would be useful still but the four weeks of waiting gave them time to think.
"You have them?"
Malcolm nodded. "In my car, which has new plates and my bags are packed, also in the car," he said. He could tell what her answer would be, from her excitement when they talked about their new life, and how drained she looked in everyday life, as her family spoke more and more about her being a hunter.
"I'm going."
Malcolm smiled. "Alright. Get dressed, get your bags and let's go."
Moira nodded. Then she folded her arms, waiting.
The two stood there for a few second before Malcolm gave the young woman a funny look.
"What?"
"Turn around."
"I'd rather not," Malcolm grinned but sighed when Moira leered at him. "Alright," he held his hands up in surrender, turning around so he was facing out the window, looking out to the stars in the dark sky. "It's so clear tonight."
"Yeah," Moira stripped off her night gown, leaving her naked. She grabbed the ready clothes under her bed, her coat, jacket, boots and her silver throwing knifes. "Got the Hunter's Helper and Hindrance?"
"All dried out and packed. You got a batch too?"
"Of course."
Malcolm smiled. "How dressed are you?"
Moira smirked, pulling her shirt on. "Enough."
Malcolm turned to see her sitting on her bed, dressed in a shirt and jeans, just pulling the socks onto her feet. "Where's your bag?"
"In the closet."
Malcolm walked over, opening the thin wooden doors. He paused as he saw the shoulder bag. It was a couple of feet long, enough storage for clothes for a few weeks. Her whole life, in a bag. "You have everything?"
"Everything I will need."
Malcolm frowned, looking over to his old friend.
"It's fine," she assured, pulling a boot on. "I have all my favourite clothes, a few pictures and you. It's all I need."
Malcolm smiled. He made his way over to Moira and threw an arm around her shoulders. "Good," was all he said.
Moira smiled, head falling onto his chest. "The two of us will figure something out."
"The four of us."
"Hm?" Moira raised her head.
"Turns out the guy who got me the IDs and birth certificates, had a two cousins who want out. They'll going to tag along with us for a while."
"Who are they?"
"Robert and Rebecca. Twenty and eighteen. They've kept their first names."
Moira nodded. "We'll make it further with a group."
"We will make it," Malcolm swore. He took Moira's hand. "Now, come on, let's go."
Malcolm walked back to the closet to put the bag on his shoulder, while Moira took her goodbye letter from her draw, placing it on the bed. They joined hands once more and stepped over to the window.
"Hang on. How he suppose to get this down?"
Moira tried her hardest not to laugh.
Tommy and Laurel joked and laughed as they walked with smoothies in hand, squeezing between the people that passed, looking at all the stalls full of different foods, drinks and gifts. They looked at the hand made jewellery, dream catchers and other decorations and ornaments. Tommy brought a gerbera flower, its petals were a deep pink, the centre so dark it was almost black.
"You didn't have to get me that," Laurel said with an unimpressed expression.
Tommy gave her a weird look. "It's for me," he said, slipping the flower over his ear.
Laurel laughed.
The two walked around for a further half an hour, looking at all the guitar players and people doing tricks. Laurel's eye was caught by a small boy at a stand that sold hand-made masks.
At first she thought he was alone, so she was worried. She watched from a distance as a man, trying on a mask covering the top of his face -which was a piece of art really, painted with wind swept leaves and red petals with a dark background, and a gold thread trim- knelt down to talk to the boy. The child was replying in sign language, he must have read the man's lips. A young woman stood beside them, possibly a teenager, watching the scene with a smile.
When Laurel looked over to Tommy, she saw he was watching the scene too. She turned back and was just about to make a comment about the father and his children, when the man took off his mask.
"Oliver?" Laurel said in disbelief.
"What the..." Tommy looked on in confusion.
Oliver looked over, almost like he had heard them. Had that been possible.
"Shit," Oliver said. There was nothing else that could really be said. He handed the sales man back the mask.
"What's wrong?" Rose asked as Oliver fished his phone from his pocket. She held out his cap and glasses.
"Thanks," Ollie said, putting the items back on before returning to his phone. "Two of my friend are here and they just saw me," he typed out a message to Tommy. "Have to face them now." Oliver looked around, his scene of smell tracing Slade in the crowed area.
The Aussie was standing with Grant a few stalls away, looking at Oliver, having heard the man swear. "Met us at that fountain we passed before," Ollie said in the man's direction. Knowing that his keen hearing would pick it up. Then he glanced back to Laurel and Tommy, to see them giving him looks of confusion. Not that he could blame them.
Oliver took Rose and Joey's hands, leading them through the waves of people.
"What was that about?" Laurel said.
"I don't know but Ollie just sent me a text," Tommy said, tilting the screen so Laurel could see. "I'm spending some time with a friend and their kids. I'll talk to you later." he read. "Since when does he know anyone with kids?"
"Odd," Laurel agreed.
Diggle pulled up to the Queen manor. He opened his window as Oliver excited the car.
"Oliver?" Diggle called.
Oliver turned to the window, leaning against the frame "Up for tonight?"
Diggle nodded. "Want me to wait for you down the street?"
Oliver shook his head. "I'll make my own way. I should not be too long, just meet me under the club."
"Alright. When am I going to met this parent of yours anyway?" Diggle asked. Not that he had not met the man but his face was covered by that metal mask, and he only grunted and hummed to what Oliver had to say about their plans.
"Later," Oliver called as he jogged up the steps to the manor.
Diggle watched him go. Something told him that later would not be anytime soon.
Oliver could see light from the windows and upon reaching for the handle, he found the door to be open. He knew Thea would be home, so he had no worry, but he still held hesitation to the environment he was getting used to. He stepped into the manor, removing his coat before moving further in.
"Speedy?" he called. He could smell her, his mother and Walter, who must have got back a little early from their dinner out, and... Tommy?
Moira stepped into the hall. Her stride was quick, her body tense. "Oliver. Could you come into the living room, please." She said before exciting.
Oliver had not seen his mother since this morning, where Slade confirmed her to have knowledge of the hidden world, and she in term comforted him to be a wolf. Ollie did not have any real plan of how to handle things. Did he face her? Tell her that he knew about wolves? Tell her that he was one? Tell her that Slade was the one who turned him? No, he was leaving that part out for sure.
There was one question left. Had Tommy told her what he saw?
As Oliver stepped into the living room, one look at Tommy, sitting down on the sofa, looking guilty, said that he had spilled the beans.
Oliver breath caught in a laugh, which bubbled into a chuckle. He felt like he was in the end of some sort of investigating drama. The police had the bad guy, there was no getting out. Now they just wanted to know why.
"They were Slade's kids," Oliver started, looking over to Tommy. "Rose and Joe. Grant was with his dad at another stall."
"I guessed as such," Moira cut in, arms folded over her chest.
Oliver looked at her in confusion. "Slade's a nice guy. What have you got against him?"
Moira breath caught in her throat as her recognised Oliver's shifty movements. He was hiding something. Did he know? Did Slade show him his wolf side? Was he threatening her son?
Oliver blinked at the smell of building emotion. Looking in her eyes, he could see the worry and the burning anger.
"You know," Moira challenged.
Oliver looked at her in disbelief. She wanted an some sort of answer, now.
The blonde huffed, putting on his winning smile. He had wanted to hide this but it may just act as a useful cover. A layer of small truth made a fantastic lie. Oliver's knowledge and condition of being a wolf, was to remain hidden until he figured out the ground she stood on and how to proceed. The Island and his acting as The Hood, Slade as swords, was not something he ever intended to reveal. This however, he always wanted to tell those around him, and there were no other options, no lies he could think of.
"I guessed that something about this morning tipped you off that Slade and I were dating, but I wasn't sure, and this is all so new-"
"You're dating him?" If Moira was a wolf, Ollie imagined that her eyes would have been blasting red like two lazars. "A forty year old," Wolf? Alpha?" Man?"
Moira could not believe this. This was worse then anything she could have imagined, short of Oliver being bitten by the dammed wolf.
Oliver played innocent. "Don't act like you could not tell. You're only that polite when you're angry, and I could tell Slade was annoyed. You comparing me to one of his kids," Ollie felt like almost patting himself on the back for that improve.
Moira flinched. Oliver had seen thought all that she said. Just with a different conclusion. The truth, that Slade was an werewolf, likely an Alpha. Was a far worse fate for Oliver to suffer. An Alpha dating her son however, was the worst thing that could have happened.
She never wanted her children to know of this life and now Oliver was part of it, and he was being lead to the wrong side.
"You're dating a guy?" Tommy spoke up, not believing what he was hearing.
"Ollie, he's forty. What are you thinking?" Thea added.
Walter just watched the scene. Not sure what steps he should take.
"I'm thinking about how nice it is to feel normal for once."
That caught everyone's attention.
Oliver shook his head with a sigh. "I like him. I like his kids. So whether or not you like him, it's happening, and it's up to the two of us to see where it leads," he said simply. He looked over to Tommy. "I'm sorry that I have not been the best friend. Tomorrow, I'll buy you lunch."
Tommy smiled. "Alright," he stood from his seat, pulling his friend into a one arm hug. "I'm sorry, man," he whispered.
Oliver patted his back. "It's fine."
Moira sat up in a tree, looking out to the city she would soon call home, for however long. It was named after the Starlings that used to gather there ever year, flying around the developing city like a huge black cloud. It had since stopped as the city grew, a shame really. Not just because it was a sight to behold but because the birds acted like barriers to settling werewolves, as the sound of mutable screeching birds was too unbearable and caused them to show their nature.
"Hey," Robert called up into the tree. "What are you doing?"
"Looking."
"Why?"
"I have eyes."
Robert smirked. He grabbed hold of a thick branch and started to climb up the tree. He leant against the base, watching Moira, who seemed completely unfazed about sitting on a branch, even if it was study. "What weaponry does your friend use?" he asked, trying to make conversation.
Moira blinked at the question. She turned to Robert. "Throwing knifes. Be were both trained to."
"Oh," he look genuinely surprised.
Moira snorted. "I take it you don't teach your women."
"Well... No, I guess not. They're more..."
"Like housewives," Moira shook her head. "Ours are leaders. Men may be foot soldiers, women Sergeants, but we still fight together."
"So, that's not why you left?"
Moira looked over to Robert. He was very attractive, body slender but well build. His hair was a dirty blonde, his eyes a dark grey. He was dull, quick witted humour seemed to fly over his head but he was clever in other aspects. Like Malcolm, he longed to be rich and powerful. To make his own life, so that he and his sister would never be affected by their family again.
"I want the freedom. To feel like, if I ever had children, they could live their own lives. Away from wolves and hunters."
Robert smiled. "I understand."
Moira smiled back.
Malcolm watched from where he sat on the car bonnet, as the two chatter up in the tree. He put on a smile, wanting to be happy for Moira, even as he felt a tug at his gut.
Oliver lifted a set of draws with his enhanced strength, placing it down in front of his bedroom door. He sent a text to Slade. The man would likely head over and wait down the street, which gave the young billionaire time to have a shower. He put his phone on silent, leaving it on the bed.
He washed his body, his hair and then just stood there, his forehead against the cold tiled. The hot water just rolled down his skin, feeling almost cold but it would take hours for the hot water to give out, if it even did. He heard his phone vibrate but ignored it. The day had started so well, with so many promises. His house of cards, his lies, were falling, shattering like thin glass on concrete.
Oliver smelt Slade before he heard him open the window and jump into his bedroom, he heard him walk into the bathroom and sit down on the toilet seat.
"It's two to one, to me."
Oliver smirked. He and Slade had made a bet of who would face and beat the most people on the list. Although they had yet to decide on an ending date.
"We need to set a prize."
Oliver turned off the shower. He reached for the towel that suddenly appeared from his peripheral vision, poking out from between the curtain and wall.
Slade never asked about what had Oliver on edge, just kissed the back of the younger man's neck as he was doing up his jeans and smiled as Oliver put their foreheads together.