Panting is heard as a man runs through a forest, in ragged clothes. He climbs a steep rock and lays a bow and arrows out in front of him at the top. He lights the arrow on fire, takes aim, and fires, igniting a pile of wood on the beach below. A group of Chinese fishermen see the resulting explosion. "The name of the island they found me on is Lian Yu," Oliver's voice sounds.
"Wait," said someone from the crowd. "That was you?"
Oliver simply nodded, his face set into a expressionless mask.
"It's Mandarin for 'Purgatory,'" Oliver's voice continues as the fishermen land on the island. "I've been stranded here for five years. I've dreamt of my rescue every cold, black night since then."
The man, who everyone now knows is their former mayor, meets the fishermen on the shore and falls to his knees, taking off his hood to reveal a man with hair down to his chest and a scraggly beard, yet unmistakably Oliver Queen. "For five years, I've had only one thought, one goal. Survive. Survive and one day return home."
Oliver is now on the boat, and one of the fishermen offers him a cup of water, which he thankfully takes and sips. "The island had many dangers," his voice continues. "To live, I had to make myself more than what I was, to forge myself into a weapon. I am returning. Not the boy who was shipwrecked but the man who will bring justice to those who have poisoned my city."
Oliver looks up from his cup of water, the intensity in his eyes startling to everyone in the room, even many of the heroes who didn't know him during this time in his life. "My name is Oliver Queen," he says firmly, and the screen cuts to black.
A man who was a member of the jury stood up. "What does that mean?" he asked.
"What does what mean?" Oliver answered.
"Those who have poisoned your city," the man quotes. "You just spent five years on an island, and no offense, before that you weren't the sort of person who would care about anything going on in the city. What would you know about anything in Star City?"
"You'd be surprised," was all Oliver said.
The screen cuts to a news report. "Oliver Queen is alive," the announcer declares. "The Starling City resident was found by fishermen in the North China Sea five days ago, five years after he was missing and presumed dead following the accident at sea which claimed the Queen's Gambit."
Footage of Oliver's pre-island self is shown, drunk, with a woman hanging off of his arm. "Queen was a regular tabloid presence and a fixture at the Starling City club scene," the man continues.
On the news report, Oliver stormed towards the camera, shouting angrily. "Shortly before his disappearance he was acquitted of assault charges stemming from a highly publicized drunken altercation with paparazzi."
Oliver swings his arm and the footage cuts back to the announcer. "Queen is the son of Starling City billionaire Robert Queen, who was also on board but now officially confirmed as deceased."
The news report ends and the screen cuts to Oliver, now groomed and looking much more like his current self, staring out of a hospital room window at the city. A man's voice is heard. "Twenty percent of his body's covered in scar tissue. Second degree burns on his back and arms. X-rays show at least twelve fractures that never properly healed."
The screen cuts away from Oliver and to Moira Queen and a doctor.
There was a collective gasp from the crowd as they recognized Oliver's mother, who many of them had not thought about for a long time. However, as they saw her on screen, suddenly everything she was involved in came back to them in a flash: the Undertaking, her mayoral campaign, her violent death at the hands of Slade Wilson. They collectively looked over at Oliver just in time to catch the comforting hand that Felicity laid on his shoulder.
"Has he said anything about what happened?" Moira asked.
"No," the doctor answered. "He's barely said anything. Moira, I'd like you to prepare yourself. The Oliver you lost might not be the one they found."
Moira slowly opens the door and walks into the room. "Oliver?" she asks, obviously barely containing her tears.
Oliver slowly turns around, and his own eyes get suspiciously wet when he sees her. He tilts his head slightly, and tries to speak, but it takes him a moment to get the words out. "Mom," he eventually says. They walk towards each other slowly, as if unsure how to act around each other after five years apart. When they get within arm's length of each other, they stop, circling around each other, and then Moira breaks down into tears. "Oh," she sobs. "My beautiful boy."
She embraces him, and after a moment, he wraps his arms around her, burying his face in her shoulder like he was a kid again.
There were smiles all around the room at their reunion. No matter what anyone thought about Oliver or Moira and their actions, their reunion was that of a mother and a son, and everyone could see how beautiful it was.
The screen cuts to the outside of the Queen mansion.
There were some gasps and whistles as the crowd realized for the first time just how rich the Queen family used to be.
Their car pulls to a stop in front of the house. The driver opens up the trunk to reveal a green wooden box with Chinese writing on it. He grabs the handle, but Oliver stops him. "I've got it," he says.
Moira opens the doors and they enter the house. "Your room is exactly as you left it," she declares. "I didn't have the heart to change a thing."
"Oliver," a deep voice calls out. Oliver puts his trunk down, and the camera cuts to reveal Walter Steele. "It's d*** good to see you," he says firmly.
Oliver looks at him, confused. "It's Walter," he clarifies, holding out his hand. "Walter Steele."
"You remember Walter," Moira says, "your father's friend from the company."
Oliver just looks between the two of them, and then walks past without a word.
"Wait," another jury member said. "Your mother didn't tell you she had remarried?"
"No," Oliver answered shortly. "My mother didn't tell me a lot of things."
Moira gives Walter a reassuring nod. Oliver walks further into the house. "It's good to see you, Raisa," he says warmly to a maid who has just walked in.
She gives him a huge smile. "Welcome home, Mr. Oliver," she says happily, her accent clearly Russian.
She then turns her attention to Moira. "Mr. Merlyn phoned," she says. "He wants to join you for dinner."
"Malcolm Merlin?" the judge asked angrily.
"No," Oliver said. "Tommy. His son. My best friend."
"Wonderful," Moira acknowledges. "Oliver? Did you hear that?"
Oliver doesn't answer, and instead walks further into the house, looking up the stairs as Thea appears. "Hey sis," he says nonchalantly, as if he had been gone five minutes instead of five years. She runs down the stairs and tackles him in a giant hug. He catches her with ease. "I knew it, I knew you were alive," she says. "I missed you so much."
"You were with me the whole time," he says softly.
The screen cuts to two women, one of whom the crowd instantly recognized as Laurel Lance.
"Come on, Laurel, we're lawyers, not miracle workers," the other woman said. "We can't win this!"
"If we can't win a class-action suit against a man who swindled hundreds of people out of their homes and life savings, then we're not fit to call ourselves a legal aid office," Laurel responds.
"And if we go bankrupt in the process we won't be a legal aid office," the other woman insists as they walk through the office. "Hunt has an army of lawyers and they're ready to bury us."
"You and I against an army," Laurel states, unperturbed. "I love those odds."
"Why do you hate me?" the woman asks as Laurel walks away and sits down at her desk.
She stares at a board containing news clippings about Adam Hunt. Suddenly, her attention is grabbed by the news in the background. "And in other news, details as to the castaway story you've all heard about," says the man. "The son of a very wealthy billionaire will soon become a legendary story. Jessica now has more details and the complete castaway story."
Laurel gets up and watches the news, just as the rest of the office is already doing. "The Queen's Gambit was last heard from more than five years ago. Mr. Queen has reportedly confirmed that he was the only survivor of the accident which claimed the lives of seven people, including local resident Sara Lance. Survived by her sister, Laurel…"
Laurel grabs the remote and turns off the TV. Everyone in the office turns to look at her. She puts the remote down and walks away.
The screen cuts to Oliver in his room, a towel wrapped around his waist, obviously having just taken a shower. "After five years, everything that was once familiar is now unrecognizable," his voice sounds. "The face I see in the mirror is a stranger."
The camera pans to show all of the scars on his body as Oliver slowly walks over to examine them in the mirror.
There are several gasps from the crowd as they take in the body of their former mayor. "What happened to you on that island?" one woman gasps.
Oliver doesn't answer.
Oliver locks eyes with himself in the mirror. Lightening flashes, and for a moment Oliver sees himself in the infamous green hood. He turns quickly, and suddenly the screen cuts to the ocean, in a violent storm. The Queen's Gambit is shown, and the camera cuts to inside. Robert Queen is examining the radar. Another man enters from the deck of the ship. "The storm's a category two," he reports. "The captain's recommending we head back."
"Alright," Robert accepts. "Inform the crew."
A younger and obviously more carefree Oliver appears. "Are we in trouble?" he asks.
"One of us is," Robert responds lightly.
"Ollie?" a woman's voice is heard.
The camera turns to show Sara Lance. When she sees Robert she wraps her robe around herself. "Where do you keep the bottle opener on this thing?"
"I'll be there in a minute, Sara," Oliver answers with a grin.
Sara smiles back and leaves. Oliver grins at his dad, who slowly walks towards him and puts an arm around his shoulder. "You know, son," he starts, "that is not going to finish well, for either of them or for you."
The screen flashes back to the present, as Oliver stares down at a picture of himself as a baby, with his father grinning behind him. Behind him, the door opens to reveal Tommy Merlin. "What did I tell you?" he says happily, "Yachts suck."
Oliver smiles and turns to face him. "Tommy Merlyn," he says.
The two embrace. "I missed you, buddy."
The screen cuts to dinner. "Okay, what else did you miss?" Tommy is saying. "Superbowl winners: Giants, Steelers, Saints, Packers, Giants again. A black president, that's new. Oh, and 'Lost'? They were all dead…I think."
"What was it like there?" Thea suddenly asks.
The table falls silent as everyone looks at Oliver. He tilts his head again before looking at his sister. "Cold," he answers, his tone leaving no room for any continued discussion.
"Tomorrow, you and me, we're doing the city," Tommy says quickly, changing the subject. "You've got a lot to catch up on."
"That sounds like a great idea," Moira exclaims, shooting Tommy a grateful look.
"Good," Oliver agrees. "Then I was hoping to swing by the office."
"Well, there's plenty of time for all that," Walter says. "Queen Consolidated isn't going anywhere."
Oliver nods with a fake smile towards Walter. Behind him, Raisa comes with a bowl of fruit. She trips on the rug and falls into Oliver, who catches both her and the bowl with ease. "Oh!" she exclaims. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Oliver."
Oliver answers her in Russian, causing the entire table to stop and stare at him yet again. "Dude!" Tommy exclaims. "You speak Russian?"
"I didn't realize you took Russian at college, Oliver," Walter says.
"I didn't realize you wanted to sleep with my mother, Walter," Oliver returns in an even voice.
The entire table freezes, glancing at each other.
Serves you right for not telling him," Felicity mutters, but the entire room hears her, and most nod in agreement, something which John notes with distinct pleasure that his plan already seemed to be working. However, he knew that things might change once they got into some of the action. He just hoped that the people who were going to decide Oliver's fate would keep an open mind.
"Uh, I didn't say anything," Thea finally says.
"She didn't have to," Oliver claims.
Moira and Walter look at each other, and then Moira takes his hand. "Oliver," she starts, "Walter and I are married. And I don't want you to think that either one of us did anything to disrespect your father."
"We both believed that Robert, like you, was, uh, well, gone," Walter adds.
"It's fine," Oliver says with no emotion.
He nods at his mother and stands. "May I be excused?" he asks, still no emotion in his voice.
Moira nods. Oliver grabs some fruit out of the bowl and turns to leave. "Hey, don't forget about tomorrow, buddy," Tommy says, and Oliver claps him on the shoulder and winks at Thea before leaving.
Everyone stares after him as he goes.
"Well, that was awkward," the D.A. says, speaking for the first time since this all began.
Rene, Curtis, and Dinah look at each other, not being used to seeing Oliver so…broken, so vulnerable.
The screen cuts to the outside of the mansion, at night. It's pouring rain. In his bedroom, Oliver is sleeping, not in his bed, but in front of the open window, soaked by the rain. "One, two, three…" a woman's voice counts. The scene flashes back to the Queen's Gambit. Oliver is drinking a glass of wine, Sara on the bed behind him. "It's getting closer," she states.
Oliver climbs on the bed next to her. "That's not very scientific," he teases.
"What would you know about science, Mr. Ivy League Dropout?" Sara teases back.
"I happen to know a lot about science," Oliver says in his 'playboy' voice. "I know about fermentation. I know…biology…"
He leans in and kisses her. "Laurel's gonna kill me," Sara states. "She's so gonna kill me."
"Your sister will never know," Oliver reassures her, then tackles her onto the bed. "Come'ere," he says.
She giggles. The thunder crashes loudly and she jumps. "Okay, that one was really close," she says, fear in her voice.
"Sara." Oliver says firmly. "We're gonna be fine."
"He leans in to kiss her again, but something else grabs his attention and he looks away from her to the two glasses of wine on the table. They tilt and then fall to the floor as the entire room turns sideways. Oliver and Sara are thrown across the room. Oliver slams into the couch and slowly pulls himself up. "Sara," he says, momentarily stunned.
"Oh, no," murmured quite a few people in the crowd. They look over at their mayor, who was being soothed by his wife as he buried his face in his hands.
The water rushes in, and Sara screams as she is swept away, her hand reaching vainly for Oliver as he lunges for her. "Sara!" he screams.
The whole world turns upside down and all that can be seen is swirling water as it claims Oliver too. He surfaces, splashing. "Sara?" he calls. "Sara?"
"Oliver!" Robert's voice cuts though the noise of the storm. Oliver looks behind him and sees his father and another man on a life raft. He swims towards them and they pull him onto the raft. Oliver looks for Sara and is horrified when she isn't there. "Sara!" he screams again, and tries to dive back into the water, but Robert holds him back.
"No!" he shouts. "Dad, she's out there!"
"She's not there," Robert argues.
"Sara!" Oliver screams again.
They watch as the Queen's Gambit sinks into the raging sea. "She's gone," Robert tells his son.
The screen flashes back to the sleeping Oliver. Moira and Robert are now behind him. Moira shakes his shoulder gently. "Oliver, wake up," she says. "Oliver?"
Oliver jolts awake, and in one fluid motion, flips his mother onto her back and puts a hand to her throat. "Oliver!" Walter shouts.
Oliver looks up at him, and his eyes clear as he realizes where he is and what was going on. He releases his mother immediately and scurries back on his hands and knees, his face showing utter horror at what he'd almost done. Walter helps Moira up. "I'm sorry," Oliver says, completely broken. "I'm so, so sorry."
"No, it's okay, Oliver," Moira soothes him, squatting and holding out a hand to him, almost like you would act towards a wild animal. "It's alright, sweetheart. You're home. You're home."
Oliver looks up at her, stricken, and the screen cuts to black.
"So you have PTSD," someone from the other side of the room said. "Like, a lot of PTSD."
Felicity looked at Oliver, who was still trying to calm down. Seeing he was in no shape to respond, she decided to. "Almost certainly," she said, a hint of anger in her tone. "No one goes through the things he has without being affected by them. That's part of what this is to show you. The world that Oliver lives in is so strange, so different, so much more horrible than anything you can imagine, and the things that he's done, no matter how terrible some of them might be, were in response to these things, and were almost always necessary."
She glared around the room, daring anyone to argue with her.
The next morning, Oliver pulls his trunk out from under his bed and takes a book and an arrowhead engraved with Chinese writing out of it.
In Thea's room, she and a friend were busy crushing pills into powder.
The Thea in the room groaned. "I just want to say," she announced to the room, "that the person that I was then is not the person I was now. I was in a rough place, and I had no one to help me. I got the help I needed, and I'm clean now. I was clean for a long time before I started going out into the field with Ollie. So whatever you see in this, just assume I'm horrified by the person I was then, because I am."
"Where did you get these?" Thea asks, examining the bottle.
"Roxy's," the other girl says cheerfully. "Thank you, Daddy's ACL tear."
There is a knock on the door, and the girls hurry to hide what they're doing, managing to cover it up just before Oliver walks in. "Ollie," Thea says happily.
Oliver chuckles. "No one's called me that in awhile, Speedy," he says.
"Worst nickname ever," Thea says with mock annoyance.
"What? Always chasing after you as a kid, I thought it fit pretty well," Oliver teases gently.
He gets serious suddenly. "Maybe it still does."
He gives her a look, and a flicker of worry appears in Thea's eyes. "See you at school, Speedy," Thea's friend makes her exit.
Thea scoffs. "Sorry about her," she says, relieved that she's away from her brother's scrutinizing gaze.
"I have something for you," Oliver says, content to let it be for now.
"You did not come back from a deserted island with a souvenir," Thea says incredulously.
Oliver holds up the arrowhead. "It's a hozen," Oliver explains. "And in Buddhism, it symbolizes reconnecting. I kept it in hopes that one day it would reconnect me with you."
He hands her the hozen. Thea takes it and looks at him with a smile. "A rock," Tommy's voice comes from behind them. "That is sweet. You know, I want one of those T-shirts that says 'my friend was a castaway and all I got was this crappy shirt.'"
Thea gave Oliver an amused look. "Don't let him get you into too much trouble?" she asks. "You just got back. Take it slow."
They embrace. Tommy clears his throat. "The city awaits," he says grandly.
He and Oliver leave. Thea watches them go with an amused expression. Once they're out in the hall, Tommy turns to Oliver. "Have you noticed how hot your sister's gotten?" he asks.
Oliver gives him a glare that would definitely make him fall down dead on the spot if looks could kill. "Because I have not," Tommy quickly backtracks.
"Ew," Felicity said, the true meaning of that statement hitting her.
Oliver gives her an amused look. The others look at them in confusion, having heard the exchange but not understanding what it meant.
Oliver and Tommy were zipping down the street in Tommy's expensive car. "Your funeral blew," Tommy says, a true playboy.
"Did you get lucky," Oliver asks, amused.
"Fish in a barrel," Tommy chuckles.
Oliver laughs. "They were so sad, and huggy…" Tommy continues.
"No…" Oliver says in mock dismay.
"And I'm counting on another target-rich environment for your welcome home bash," Tommy finishes.
"At my what?"
"You came back from the dead!" Tommy exclaims. "This calls for a party. You tell me where and when, I'll take care of everything."
Oliver just smiles, shaking his head. Tommy stops at an intersection, and the two men take in the group of homeless people gathered in front of a worn-down building on the opposite side of the street. "Man, this city's gone to crap," Tommy moans. "You know, your dad sold his factory just in time. Why'd you want to drive through this neighborhood, anyway?"
"No reason," Oliver answers, looking out the window at the factory.
"So what'd you miss the most?" Tommy asks, the moment of seriousness gone. "Steaks at the palm, drinks at the station, meaningless s**?"
"Laurel," Oliver responds immediately.
Tommy turns serious again. "Everyone is happy you're alive," he stresses. "You wanna see the one person who isn't?"
Oliver just shrugs.
At CNRI, Laurel and her friend are still neck-deep in the case against Hunt. "Laurel, I just got this from Hunt's lawyers. They filed for a change of venue, we are now in front of Judge Grell."
"Hunt funded Grell's reelection campaign," Laurel realizes. "He's got Grell in his back pocket."
"You know, it's fun being your friend," the woman teases. "I get to say 'I told you so' a lot."
"Jo, Adam Hunt is not smarter than we are."
"No, he's just richer and willing to commit multiple felonies," Jo argues.
"We don't need to go outside the law…"
"…to find justice," Jo finishes. "Your dad's favorite jingle."
"Well that's ironic," the judge said bitingly, "considering that Ms. Lance became the Black Canary and thus a criminal outside of the law."
"Laurel was a hero," Diggle growled, startling the crowd with his anger given that he had not yet spoken except to introduce himself. "Don't you dare say otherwise."
The judge looked suitably chagrined.
Laurel smiles, then turns to see Oliver standing by her desk examining her newspaper articles on Hunt. Her smile quickly fades. "Hello, Laurel," Oliver says softly.
The screen cuts to Oliver and Laurel walking down the sidewalk. "You went to law school," Oliver observed. "You said you would."
"Yeah," Laurel says coldly. "Everyone's proud."
"Adam Hunt's a heavy hitter; you sure you want to get in the ring with him?" Oliver tries.
Laurel isn't having any of it. "Five years and you wanna talk about Adam Hunt?"
"No, not really," Oliver admits.
"Why are you here, Ollie?" Laurel suddenly asks, stopping.
"To apologize," Oliver answered. "It was my fault. I wanted to ask you not to blame her."
"For what?" Laurel asks. "Falling under your spell? How could I possibly blame her for doing the same things I did?"
"I never meant to…"
"She was my sister," Laurel interrupts. "I couldn't be angry, because she was dead. I couldn't grieve because I was so angry. That's what happens when your sister dies while s******* your boyfriend."
Oliver sighs. "We buried an empty coffin," Laurel continues. "Because her body was at the bottom of the ocean, where you left her. It should have been you."
"Harsh," someone from the back of the room said.
"I deserved every word of it," Oliver corrected.
"I know that it's too late to say this, but I'm sorry," Oliver says.
"Yeah, I'm sorry too," Laurel says bitingly. "I'd hoped you'd rot in hell a whole lot longer than five years."
She walks away from him without another word, passing Tommy on the way. "How'd you think that was gonna go, Tommy?" she asks as she passes.
"About like that," Tommy says to her retreating back.
As Tommy and Oliver walk back to the car, Tommy tries to lift Oliver's spirits. "Okay, so we took care of that. Good call. Now we can make up for lost time. If you're not too tired of fish then I suggest we find some l**** models and eat sushi all day. What do you say?"
A truck suddenly turns into the alley behind them, and men in masks surround them from all sides. "What the h***?" Tommy shouts.
Oliver and Tommy are both shot with tranq darts. Tommy falls unconscious immediately, but Oliver manages to hold on long enough to see a man walk into the alley. "Hey!" the man shouts, but one of the masked men shoots him, and he falls to the ground, dead. The last thing Oliver sees before he falls unconscious is the men leaning over him.
Suddenly, the camera flashes back to Oliver, Robert, and the other man on the life raft. They are huddled in the corners, wearing life vests, the wind and waves whipping them violently. "Here, son. Drink," Robert shouts, handing Oliver a bottle of water.
Robert wraps his arm around him as he drinks. "What the h*** are you doing?" The other man shouts. "That's all we've got!"
"If anybody's making it out of here, it's gonna be him!" Robert shouts back.
He turned his attention back to his son. "I'm so sorry, I thought I'd have more time," he tells him. "I'm not the man you think I am. I didn't build our city, I failed it. And I wasn't the only one."
"What did he tell you?" the man beside Felicity asked curiously.
"Enough," Oliver answered. "Enough that I knew more about what was going on than anyone else except the people involved, and I had five years to plan for how I was going to stop it."
The screen quickly moves back to the present. The masked men take a hood off of Oliver's head. "Mr. Queen," one says menacingly. "Mr. Queen!"
He holds up a taser and flicks it on for a second, his threat clear. "Did your father survive that accident?" he continues.
Oliver glances at Tommy, unconscious on the floor. "I ask the questions, you give me the answers," the masked man continues.
Oliver makes a fist and stays silent. The man turns to one of his partners and holds out his hands, then quickly whirls around and tazes Oliver. Oliver screams through clenched teeth, and when the taser is released, breathes hard.
"Torture?" the D.A. asked incredulously. "Isn't that a little extreme? He had only asked one question!"
"You think these people care who they hurt?" Oliver burst out. "They don't care about anything except the job. I had information, I didn't tell them, so they tried to show me how tough they were. These guys were actually quite reasonable, as bad guys go. A lot of other people in their position would have killed Tommy outright. They were given orders not to kill either one of us, which is a very unusual criteria for people in their line of work."
"And how do you know all of this?" the D.A. asked, still trying to win her case.
"Because my mother hired them," Oliver answered, deciding truth was the best way to go.
There are gasps throughout the crowd. "What?" the D.A. asked incredulously.
"My mother hired them," Oliver repeated. "I didn't know it at the time. I found out later."
"Why?" she asked, but Oliver clearly had decided he had answered enough questions, and ignored her.
"Did he make it to the island?" the masked man asks again. "Did he tell you anything?"
Oliver still says nothing, and is tazed again. This time he simply grunts. He pants a few times, then shakes his head. "Yes, he did," he answers.
The masked man nods. "What did he tell you, Mr. Queen?"
Oliver lets out a slow breath, the cold air turning it to steam. Then he glares up at the man, a cold look in his eyes that disturbs the entire room.
"He told me I'm gonna kill you," Oliver says, his voice somehow utterly terrifying.
However, the masked man simply laughs. "You're delusional," he says. "You're zip-cuffed to that chair.
Oliver simply holds up his unbound hands. "Not anymore," he says evenly.
The man to his right pulls his gun, and in one fluid motion Oliver picks up the chair from underneath him, ducking the punch from the man in front of him, and catches his hand as he swings again with the back of it, breaking the bars as he twists his wrist. He then rips out another of the bars and stabs the man to his right with it, then tazes him under the chin and holds him in front of himself as a human shield as the third man unloads his gun at him. He then tosses the now dead man aside as the shooter runs away. Oliver pauses to check on Tommy before giving chase.
"Wow," several people in the crowd say in awe. "Did you really kill all those people?" one asked.
"How did you get untied?" a teenager in the back of the room exclaimed.
"When did you get the taser from the guy?" a third questioned.
"Oh, don't worry about it," Diggle said with a smile. "I learned a long time ago that there's a lot of skills Oliver has that he never intends to share. Just accept that he did it."
"As to how I got untied," Oliver added, "It's actually really easy. You just have to dislocate your thumbs, which makes that wider part of your hand that gets stuck to be small enough that you can slide your hand out."
"Wait, so let me get this straight," a man in the jury said slowly. "While you were being tortured with a taser, you also dislocated your thumbs?"
Oliver nodded, confused as to why this was such a big deal. "It was a good distraction," he shrugged.
The people in the room who weren't used to the world in which Oliver and the other heroes lived shook their heads incredulously.
As Oliver leaves, Tommy's eyes flicker open. The final masked man runs through the warehouse with Oliver chasing after him, pausing periodically to fire at Oliver, who manages to avoid the bullets with some hardcore parkour. He makes it to the roof with Oliver close behind. He jumps to the ground and enters another warehouse, whipping off his mask. Oliver follows, running ahead of the gunfire, then grabs a chain and swings around a pole, landing in front of the man and knocking his gun out of his hand. He quickly puts him into a hold. "You killed that man," Oliver says.
"You don't have to do this," the man grunts.
"Yes, I do," Oliver says, almost regretfully. "No one can know my secret."
He jerks his arm quickly, breaking the man's neck, and drops him to the ground, his face betraying his sadness at his actions. The screen goes black.
"So, wait," the judge said slowly. "When you said that no one could know your secret, were you referring to whatever your dad told you on that raft, or the fact that you're now some sort of insane combination of Robin Hood and Ethan Hunt?"
"Both," Oliver answered. "As soon as those men asked about Dad, they were dead. I didn't know everything at this point, but I knew enough, and they couldn't be allowed to live if they knew anything about it."
"Why did you have to kill them, though?" the teenager from before asked. "I mean, couldn't you have knocked 'em out and handed them over to the police?"
"I didn't know who I could trust," Oliver answered. "I had just gotten back, and I knew that there were hundreds of people in Starling that were corrupt. Some were cops. Dad had given me a list, but I lost some of the pages during my time on the island. If those men had been released by a crooked cop, they would have gone back to the person who hired them and told them what happened. Then myself and my entire family would be in danger. I was not about to let that happen."
"But the person who hired them was your mother," the D.A. objected.
"I didn't know that at the time," Oliver retorted. "And besides, Merlyn was sure to have had my mother under surveillance, and she had told him what she was doing. She did it out of concern for my safety, because Malcolm was concerned that Dad had told me what was going on before he died. She did it to prove to him that I didn't know anything."
"So that's your story," a man's voice says incredulously as the screen reveals a sketch of a man in a hood. "A guy in a green hood flew in and single-handedly took out three armed kidnappers."
The speaker is revealed as Quentin Lance, Oliver's deputy mayor and the current mayor.
There are nods and grunts of recognition as he appears on the screen, as despite his younger (and more hair-filled) appearance, he was instantly recognizable.
"I mean, who is he?" Lance continues. "Why would he do that?"
"I don't know," Oliver says with a smile. "Find him, and you can ask."
Lance nods in acceptance. "Yeah," he says dryly. "What about you?" he focuses his attention on Tommy now. "You see the hood guy?"
He holds up the sketch, and Oliver turns to look at Tommy, a much more serious expression on his face now. "I saw…" Tommy starts, then trails off, locking eyes with Oliver. "Just movement. Everything blurry. I was kind of out of it."
"Is he protecting you?" the D.A. asked.
"To this day, I don't know," Oliver answered after a moment. "After he found out that I was the Hood, or the Arrow, or whatever you want to call me, he was angry. We were in the middle of dealing with some things that involved his father, and there were some personal problems as well, and we didn't really talk much. And then he died, so…we didn't really get to talk about much of anything. I do know that after he found out and he'd had some time to think, he said, almost to himself, that he really had seen me kill those men. I guess maybe he figured he was hallucinating or something."
She nodded, seeming satisfied for the moment.
"Yeah," Lance says, a tad disbelievingly. "It's funny, isn't it?"
He turns his attention back to Oliver. "One day back and already somebody's gunning for you. Aren't you popular?"
"Were you able to identify the men?" Moira asks, unhappy with the way the conversation was going.
"Scrubbed identities, untraceable weapons," Lance's partner answers. "These were pros."
"Yeah," Lance agrees. "Well, they probably figured you'd pay a king's ransom to get your boy back. Or a Queen's ransom, as it were. After all, a parent would do anything to keep their child safe."
He locks eyes with Oliver.
"I thought you and Mayor Lance were friends," a kid, no more than twelve, said in confusion.
Oliver turned to look at him. He was being shushed by his parents. "We are now," Oliver answered. "Back then things were a little more complicated."
"I don't find your tone appropriate, Detective," Moira says.
Walter glances over at her for a moment and catches on. "If Oliver can think of anything else, we'll be in touch," he says, standing. "Thank you, gentlemen, for coming."
Lance scoffs, then gathers his things. He stands, and Oliver does as well. "Your luck never seems to run out, does it?" Lance says quietly.
Oliver simply looks at him. Raisa shows Lance and his partner our, and Oliver walks towards the other side of the room, staring off into the distance. Tommy looks at him, an unreadable expression on his face.
The screen cuts to sometime later. Oliver is researching Adam Hunt on the computer in his room, the little book he had taken out of the trunk before open on his desk. Adam Hunt's name is in the book. "You are different," Raisa's voice comes, jolting Oliver back into the present. "Not like you to read a book."
Oliver smiles and turns the screensaver on. He sits back in his seat. "I missed you, Raisa," he says after a moment.
"No kitchen on the island?" Raisa teased.
"No," Oliver says with a light chuckle. "No friends, either."
He sees the tray of food Raisa is holding and stands, taking it from her with a satisfied sigh. "Hey," he says happily, putting the tray down on the coffee table in front of his couch.
"Do I really seem different?" He asks suddenly.
"No," Raisa says immediately. "You're still a good boy."
"Oh, I think we both know I wasn't," Oliver returns.
"But a good heart," Raisa insists.
"I hope so," Oliver muses. "I want to be the person you always told me I could be."
Raisa gives him an almost motherly smile and nods.
"Who is this Raisa person?" a jury woman asks.
"She was our cook, she was in charge of the other houseworkers, and she was nanny to Thea and me when we were little," Oliver answered. "In some ways, she was more of a mother to me than Mom was."
The screen changes to what we can assume is the next day. Oliver is leaving the house when he is stopped by his mother, who is standing with Walter and another man, who the people in the room instantly recognized as John Diggle, one of the people who had stood up and revealed himself to be one of the vigilantes on Oliver's team. The entire room watched even closer, interested to know how they met and how Diggle became Spartan.
"Oliver, I wanna introduce you to someone," Moira holds out her hand, grabbing his. "John Diggle. He'll be accompanying you from now on."
"I don't need a babysitter," Oliver says.
"Darling, Oliver's a grown man," Walter starts, trying to mediate the argument he sees coming. "And if he doesn't feel he needs armed protection…"
"You know, I understand, but this is something I need," Moira cuts him off.
"Why is she so concerned about your safety when she's the one who had you kidnapped in the first place?" the man next to Felicity asked.
"She was worried about Malcolm," Oliver said.
Oliver looks between the two of them, then past them at Diggle. The next shot shows Diggle driving Oliver down a street. "So," Oliver says after a moment. "What do I call you?"
"Diggle's good," Diggle answers. "Dig if you want."
"You're ex-military?" Oliver asks.
"How could you possibly know that?" the D.A. asked.
"The way he carried himself, and the way he spoke," Oliver answered. "Besides, most professional bodyguards have military or police experience."
"Yes sir," Diggle answers. "105th airborne out of Kandahar. Retired. Been in the private sector a little more than four years now."
He shifts his grip on the steering wheel. "I don't want there to be any confusion, Mr. Queen," he continues. "My ability to keep you from harm will outweigh your comfort. Do we have an agreement?"
There is no answer. "Sir?" Diggle asks again, looking casually into the back seat, and then screeching to a stop, as the back seat of the car is now empty. He gets out of the car and opens the back door incredulously.
Despite the situation, there are chuckles throughout the crowd, including the judge and D.A., as Diggle drops his hands helplessly and looks around for Oliver, who is nowhere to be found.
Meanwhile, Oliver walks down the street, eventually jumping over the fence surrounding the old Queen Steel Factory. He goes inside and looks around for a moment before he notices an old Annual Report with his father's picture on the cover. He picks it up, and moves further into the factory. "The abduction was unexpected," his voice sounds. "It forced me to move up my plans. But what I told the police was true. The man in the green hood was in that warehouse, and he's just beginning."
There is then a montage of Oliver cleaning up the factory and setting up his lair; creating secret entrances, making arrows, and working out.
"Dang," a few people muttered as Oliver climbs up the salmon ladder. Oliver turned and looked at Felicity, who gave him a knowing wink.
Oliver puts the same trunk that was under his bed onto a table, and pulls a bow out of it. After inspecting it for a moment, he moves off to the side, and then, with his newly made arrows, proceeds to target practice: on bouncing tennis balls. Before they've lost their momentum, he's pinned them all to the wall.
Later, Oliver is watching a news report on his computer set up. "The suit alleges that Hunt committed multiple acts of fraud and theft against the underprivileged. Laurel Lance, an attorney for the City Necessary…"
The reporter's voice fades into the background as Oliver speaks again. "Adam Hunt," he says, turning to that page in the book of names. "His crimes go deeper than fraud and theft, but he's been able to bribe, bully, or kill anyone who's gotten into his way."
Oliver puts a knife down on a table covered in arrowheads. "He hasn't met me yet."
He turns away and pulls the familiar green hood out of the trunk.
"Wait, you got that on the island?" the D.A. said quickly.
Oliver simply nodded.
The camera moves to show a line of arrows, and then cuts to a parking garage. Hunt is walking through it with three other men. "You remind Grell I put him on the bench, I can take him off," he says. "I will turn him into a cautionary tale."
"Yes, Mr. Hunt," the man next to him says.
"And this attorney, Laurel Lance?" he continues. "You said she wasn't gonna be a problem anymore. I told you to fix that situation."
He stops and turns to the man, and they lock gazes for a moment. "Why are you still here?" Hunt says deprecatingly.
The other man nods and leaves. As Hunt and the other two men turn towards their car, the lights are knocked out by an arrow. In the darkness, one of Hunt's men is shot in the chest. "Get in the car!" the other one shouts, ushering Hunt into the backseat. He fires blindly.
"Hey!" Oliver says. "You missed."
The other man is shot, and then an arrow flies through Hunt's window. Oliver reaches through and Hunt slams into the pavement. "Whoa, whoa!" Hunt screams, his hands up placatingly. "Look, just, just tell me what you want!" he says.
Oliver leaps from his perch on the top of the car and slams Hunt against the wall, holding an arrow to his neck. "You're gonna transfer 40 million dollars into Starling City Bank account 1141 by ten pm tomorrow night.
"Or what?" Hunt asks, regaining some of his backbone.
"Or I'm gonna take it," Oliver growls back, "and you won't like how."
He leaves without another word. "If I see you again, you're dead!" Hunt yells at his retreating back. Oliver shoots an arrow through the back of his car in answer. When Hunt looks back, he's gone.
"So you killed those three men?" the D.A. said triumphantly.
"No, I didn't," Oliver said, frustrated. "Why does the general public always assume that just because someone was shot, whether by arrow or by gun, they're automatically dead? I didn't hit any of them in lethal areas. I've been shot in worse places, and I'm still here!"
The D.A. looked suitably chagrined.
"He was wearing a hood, a green hood," Hunt reports to Lance and his partner, Hilton, the next morning. "And he had a bow and arrow."
Lance and Hilton look at each other. "What, you don't believe me?" Hunt accuses. He takes an arrow off his desk and holds it out. "That maniac put two of my men in the hospital."
Hilton takes the arrow gingerly. "Well, thanks for your statement," Lance says slowly. "Uh, we'll put out an APB on…Robin Hood…"
He takes the arrow from Hilton.
"Hey, pal," Hunt says, getting in Lance's face. "I'm not some grocer who got taken for his register. I go to the front of the line. Now, he said he'd be back here by 10 pm. Make sure you're here first. You can coordinate with Mr. Drakon, my new head of security."
Lance and Hilton turn incredulously to look at the mercenary-like man standing in another corner of the office. "Alright, well, uh, thanks for your time," Lance says.
Lance and Hilton head towards the elevator. "Looks like Queen was telling the truth," Hilton observes.
"Yeah, well, there's a first time for everything," Lance says dryly. "This hooded guy comes looking for trouble, he'll find it."
The elevator doors close, and the screen cuts to the outside of the Queen mansion. It's now dusk, and the car is waiting outside. Oliver exits the house and opens the door to the backseat to see Diggle sitting there. They look at each other for a moment. "Put on your seat belt, sir," Diggle says.
Oliver looks down, and then looks at Diggle with a genuine smile on his face. "Wouldn't want you to miss your party," Diggle continues.
Oliver shakes his head incredulously and gets in. He looks at Diggle one more time, seemingly enjoying Diggle's efforts. The screen cuts to the party. Rowdy music is playing loudly, and even rowdier people are dancing to it. Oliver slowly makes his way down the stairs, checking the bank account on his way. It's 9:07, and still empty. Tommy spots him. He motions to the DJ to cut the music and runs up to meet him on the steps. "Everybody, hey!" he shouts. "Man of the hour!"
Everyone cheers. "Whoo!" Tommy whoops. "And ladies, please give this man a proper homecoming."
"We are the Champions" plays as Oliver makes his way through the crowd and jumps up onto a table. "Thank you very much, everybody!" he shouts, his playboy persona in full swing.
Tommy hands him a glass, and Oliver downs it. "I missed tequila!" he shouts, and the crowd cheers again.
Meanwhile, in Hunt's office, his men are getting ready for an invading army. "What the h***'s going on out there?" Hunt asks, striding to join Mr. Drakon at the window and looking out to a building across the street.
"It's across the street," Drakon answers. "Party for the guy that got rescued off that island. Oliver Queen."
"Oliver, you didn't!" Diggle burst out.
"Oh, I did," Oliver said lightheartedly. "And I'm sure you remember what else I did."
"Are you sure we can't skip this part?" Diggle pleaded with John.
"Sorry, mate," John answered. "No can do."
Diggle sighed.
Across the street, the party is in full swing. Tommy comes up behind Oliver, and both of them observe Diggle, watching them stoically from across the room. "Hey, does he wipe for you, too?" Tommy jokes. "Now, by my estimate, you have not had s** in 1,839 days. As your wingman, I highly recommend Carmen Golden."
He grabs Oliver's shoulders and turns him to face three woman dancing. "Which one is she?" Oliver asks.
"The one that looks like the chick from Twilight," Tommy answers.
"What's Twilight?" Oliver says cluelessly.
"You are so better off not knowing," Tommy deadpans.
Oliver, not really interested in the girls, glances over to the side and sees Thea, just in time to see her buy drugs.
Everyone in the room turned to Thea, who sighed. "I was young, and lost, and hurting," she said by way of explanation.
"Back in a minute," Oliver says darkly, heading over to join his sister and her friends. Diggle follows.
Oliver grabs Thea's arm and drags her off to a corner. "Ollie, hey!" she says, trying to play cool. "This party is sick!"
"Who let you in here?" Oliver asks, not to be dissuaded.
"I, I believe it was somebody who said 'Right this way, Miss Queen,'" Thea answers sarcastically.
"Well, you shouldn't be here," Oliver says.
Thea sighs. "Ollie, I'm not twelve anymore," she says, annoyed.
"No, you're seventeen," Oliver returns.
Thea puts a hand on his arm. "Ollie, I, I love you," she says seriously. "But you can't come back here and judge me. Especially for being just like you."
Oliver sighs and tries a new tactic. "I know it couldn't have been easy for you when I was…away…" he starts.
"Away?" Thea interrupts incredulously. "No, you died. My brother and my father died. I went to your funerals."
"I know," Oliver tries, but Thea isn't having it.
"No, you don't," Thea says firmly. "Mom had Walter, and I had no one. And you guys all act like it's cool, let's just forget the last five years? Well I can't. For me it's kind of permanently in there, so I'm sorry if I turned out some major disappointment, but this? Me? It's the best I could do with what I had to work with."
She turns back to her friends. "Let's bounce," she says, and moves away before Oliver can say another word.
"You have the fun dip?" one of her friends asks her.
"Yeah, it's, it's right here," Thea says, searching through her purse. "No," she says, confused. "I must have dropped it."
Back on the other side of the room, Oliver throws away her packet of drugs. He looks up to Diggle's approving nod. Turning away, he almost runs Laurel over. "Oh!" he says, surprised. "You're here?"
Laurel looks at him for a moment, gathering herself, just as startled as he was. "Tommy," she finally answers. "He made the point that we have too many years between us to leave things the way we left them. Is there someplace quieter that we could go?"
"Yeah," Oliver says with a soft smile, and holds out his arm for her.
Tommy watches them go.
Outside the room, Oliver and Laurel walk around an indoor balcony. "I'm sorry about saying that you should have been the one who died," Laurel says. "That was wrong."
"If I could trade places with her, I would," Oliver says somberly.
Laurel looks at him for a moment, and then comes to a decision, stopping in front of him. "About Sara," she says, "there's something that I've been afraid to ask, but I need to know."
"Okay," Oliver says after a moment.
"When she died…" she takes a moment to collect herself, "did she suffer?"
Oliver flashes back to the wave of water, Sara's scream as she is swept away, his own shout as he reaches vainly for her. "No," he lies, looking her in the eye.
"I think about her every day," Laurel accepts his answer.
"Me, too," Oliver admits.
"I guess we still have one thing in common then," Laurel says quietly.
Oliver just looks at her, letting her lead the conversation.
"I can't believe I'm gonna say this," she starts, "but…If you need someone to talk to, about what happened to you, I'm here."
Oliver looks like he wants to say something else, but is interrupted by his phone buzzing. He sighs apologetically and looks at it. It's 10:00, and there's no money in the bank account. He sighs again.
"Something wrong?" Laurel asks.
"I asked somebody to do something," Oliver answers. "They didn't do it."
He looks at her sadly for a moment. "Laurel. You always saw the best in me. Right now, that's what you're doing. You're looking at me, and wondering if that island changed me somehow, if it made me a better person. It didn't. Stay away from me, otherwise, I'm just gonna hurt you again. And this time it'll be worse."
The foreshadowing of that statement did not escape the people in the room. Oliver whispered "I'm sorry, Laurel," and the entire room heard and looked at him, as Felicity wrapped her arms around him. "It's not your fault," she said forcefully.
After a moment, Oliver nodded.
"Got to roll," Oliver continues, adopting his playboy persona again and backing away from her. "I've got five years of debauchery to catch up on."
Laurel sets her jaw. "You know what, Oliver?" she says, walking towards him again. "You're wrong, that island did change you. At least now you're honest."
She walks away, and he looks after her regretfully for a moment before turning to the matter at hand. As he is attempting to sneak out of the building through the kitchen, he is accosted by Diggle. "Something I can help you with, sir?" he asks.
Oliver stops in his tracks and turns to face him. "I just wanted a second to myself."
"And I would believe you, Mr. Queen, if you weren't so full of crap," Diggle returns without missing a beat. "Party's this way."
He hold out a hand to the door. Oliver smiles and tries the door handle. "It's locked," he says.
Diggle watches him for a moment before reaching for the handle himself, and in that moment, Oliver puts him in a sleeper hold, and Diggle drops to the floor.
Hunt's office is now heavily guarded. "You two cover the elevator," Drakon is instructing his men. "Hang back and be ready. Stay in the corners and stay alert."
Leaving his men to guard the hallway, he enters Hunt's office and closes the doors behind him. "It's past ten," he says to Hunt. "He's never getting in here."
Outside, a grappling arrow embeds itself in the wall beside Hunt's window. On the ground, there is a heavy police presence, including Lance and Hilton. "All's clear," Hilton tells Lance as he passes.
"Yeah," Lance agrees.
Inside, all the lights go out, and the elevator dings and opens. An arrow comes flying out, shooting one man before he has a chance to fire his gun. Oliver quickly dispatches the two men to the sides of the elevator fighting hand to hand, using his bow as a weapon. He then throws his bow at a third and leaps, grabbing onto the ceiling and tackling a fourth man. He picks up his bow off the floor and takes cover as the last remaining man unloads his gun at him. Inside Hunt's office, all is quiet, until a man comes flying through the door. The men in the office shoot him, thinking he's the Hood. Oliver shoots one and makes quick work of the second before shooting an arrow into the wall behind Hunt. He aims another arrow at Hunt. "You missed," Hunt taunts him.
"Really?" Oliver answers.
Drakon comes from the side, grabbing Oliver's bow. Hunt hides behind his desk. Oliver and Drakon fight hand to hand, seemingly evenly matched. Hunt manages to escape the office while they're fighting, and calls the SCPD on the ground. "He's here," he shouts into the phone.
"All units, converge," Lance says into a walkie talkie. "All units, converge!"
Inside, Oliver and Drakon are still fighting. Drakon pulls a knife, and Oliver shoves him into a piece of likely expensive pottery. They continue to fight as the police make their way up the many flights of stairs. Oliver gains the upper hand against Drakon, and slams him to the ground, but Drakon is able to grab a gun. He fires at the same time Oliver throws a flechette. Drakon falls to the ground dead, and Oliver lands unconscious behind the desk, his hood off for all to see.
The police are still running up the stairs. Finally, they make it to the right floor. "Go right, go right," one says.
"On me."
They spread out, taking in the destruction.
In the office, Oliver wakes with a start and groans. He pulls the bullet out of the kevlar vest he was wearing underneath his leather. "Lay down your weapons or we will open fire!" the police shout, and Oliver hurriedly drops the bullet and grabs his bow. "I repeat, lay down your weapons!"
Oliver shoots out one of their flashlights, gaining the time he needs to leap out the window. Lance and Hilton run to the window just in time to see Oliver zip line across the street on the arrow he fired earlier. "Tell me you saw that," Hilton says.
Lance just watches in astonishment. "Okay, let's go. Move," he says, collecting himself.
Back at Oliver's party, the police storm it. "Search the building, roof to basement," Lance orders. "Find him!"
He makes his way to the center of the crowd. "Starling City Police! The party's over, kids."
He is booed. Tommy turns to face him. "Oh, Mr. Merlyn," Lance drawls. "Imagine my shock at finding you here. Did you roofie anyone special tonight? Huh?"
Tommy just laughs. "Detective!" Oliver calls, coming over. "It's a private party."
"Yeah, well, there was an incident at Adam Hunt's building tonight. Do you know anything about that?"
Oliver shakes his head. "Who's Adam Hunt?"
"He's a millionaire bottom-feeder, and I'm kinda surprised you aren't friends," Lance answers.
"I've been out of town for awhile," Oliver reminds him.
"Yeah, well, he just got attacked by the guy with the hood," Lance continues. "The guy that saved your a** the other day."
"The hood guy," Oliver repeats. "You find him? I'm gonna I'm gonna offer a reward."
He turns to the crowd and holds up two fingers. "Hey, everybody!" he shouts. "Two million dollars to anybody that can find a nutbar in a green hood!"
The crowd cheers, and Oliver turns back to Lance with a taunting and triumphant smile.
Lance gets into his face. "Did you even try to save her?" he asks, his true gripe with Oliver coming out at last.
"Okay, let's go, partner," Hilton says, trying to prevent a scene.
"Did you even try to save my daughter?" Lance continues.
"Sara wouldn't want this," Hilton continues, getting in between the two of them and pulling Lance away. "It's not worth it. Partner, let's go. It's all right. Let's go."
Oliver stares at the floor for a moment, Tommy watching him in concern, and then he steps onto a table again, his carefree persona back in place. "It's way too quiet in here, this is a party!" he shouts.
The crowd cheers and the music turns back on. Oliver returns to Tommy, who is watching him with new eyes. "Some coincidence," he observes. "I mean, you asking to have your party here and Hunt getting robbed right next door, and by the same guy who rescued us at the warehouse?"
"If I were you, Tommy, I'd just be glad you're alive," Oliver tells him quietly.
"What happened to you on that island?"
"A lot," Oliver says simply.
He walks away, Tommy staring after him, for the first time scared of his friend.
The next day, Hunt is on the phone with his accountant. "What the h*** are you talking about?" he shouts. "40 million dollars doesn't just up and vanish!"
He paces back and forth. "Untraceable? It is 40 million dollars! Find it!"
He hangs up and puts his head in his hands. "How did he do it?" he mutters to himself.
The camera pans to show the arrow that Oliver had fired and Hunt had accused him of missing. In his lair, Oliver watches as the money is transferred into the account, and then split and transferred into the accounts of all the people Hunt had stolen from.
"You wanted that money to give it back to the people Hunt had stolen from?" the judge asked incredulously. "That's why?"
"Of course," Oliver said. "I certainly didn't need it."
There were nods around the room as several people began to think over what they'd heard about the Arrow, and wonder how much of it was true and how much of it had more to the story.
He crosses Adam Hunt's name off the list and stares at his father's picture on the report, remembering.
The screen flashes back to the life raft. It's now daytime. Oliver and Robert are huddled together one one side of the raft, and the other man is sitting on the edge on the other side, a knife held loosely in his hand. All of the supplies are in a box at his feet. "There's not enough for all of us," Robert says quietly to Oliver.
"Save your strength," he responds weakly.
"You can survive this," Robert insists. "Make it home. Make it better. Right my wrongs. But you've gotta live through this first."
Oliver has dozed off. Robert shakes him awake. "You hear me, Ollie? You hear me, son?"
"Just rest, Dad," Oliver says, fighting sleep again.
Robert looks at his son and comes to a decision. "No," he says, and after kissing Oliver's head, he gently shifts him so he's leaning against the side of the boat instead of against him. He pulls a gun and shoots the other man, who falls off the side. Oliver is jolted awake by the sound of the shot and scrambles to the other side of the raft. "Dad?" he asks fearfully.
"Survive," Robert tells him, putting the gun to his head.
"No! No!" Oliver screams. We hear a gunshot and the screen cuts back to Oliver, sitting in front of his computer.
He leans back, and it's easy to see the weight of the burden he carries settle on his shoulders.
To the surprise of those in the room, the video paused. When several people looked at him questioningly, John gestured to Oliver, who had his face in his hands, his body shaking with silent sobs, Felicity rubbing his back soothingly. The room was, surprisingly, respectful and quiet as Oliver collected himself. Eventually, he rubbed his hands over his face, looked up, and nodded to John.
At CNRI, Laurel is on the phone with a client. "If, hypothetically, 50,000 dollars magically appeared in your bank account, it might be best for you not to speak about it. To anyone. Ever," she advises. "God bless you, too."
She hangs up. "I just got a very grateful phone call from one of our clients against Adam Hunt," Jo says from behind her.
"Me, too," Laurel says, and the two of them laugh together.
"It looks like Starling City has a guardian angel," Jo says. "By the way, your cute friend's here."
Laurel frowns and turns around. Tommy is standing waiting for her and gives her a happy smile.
Outside, the two of them walk down the alleyway. "You left the party pretty quick last night," Tommy mentions. "Even after I made sure the bar was stocked with pinot noir."
"It wasn't really my scene," Laurel dismisses.
"I thought maybe you and Oliver went mano a mano again," Tommy says knowingly. "I saw the two of you head out."
"There's nothing between Oliver and I," Laurel states. "Not anymore."
"And here I thought the only thing between you and Oliver was us," Tommy teases.
"I wouldn't exactly characterize us as an 'us,' Tommy," Laurel says slowly.
"Then what would you call it?" Tommy asks.
"A lapse," Laurel says smoothly.
"That's quite a few lapses," Tommy teases. "Your place, my place, my place again…"
Laurel giggles. "Oh, come on, Merlyn," she says. "We both know you're not a one girl type of guy."
"Depends on the girl," Tommy tells her.
"I have to get back to work," Laurel says, effectively ending the conversation.
She starts to walk away. "Dinah Laurel Lance," Tommy calls after her. "Always trying to save the world."
Laurel looks back at him with a friendly smile. "Hey, if I don't try and save it, who will?" she teases.
As she walks away, the camera pans up to show Oliver crouched on the fire escape. "She says the island changed me," his voice sounds again.
In another flashback, we see Oliver, looking quite ill, pull himself up high enough to see over the side of the raft, as he sees the island for the first time. "She has no idea how much. There are many more names on the list. People who rule my city through intimidation and fear. Every last one of them will wish I had died on that island."
The screen switches back to outside the Queen mansion. A man walks down the steps. "The police failed to identify the men who I hired to kidnap Oliver," he says. "They never will. Should we arrange another abduction?"
"No," Moira's voice says, and the camera pans upward to show her face. "There are other ways of finding out what my son knows."
The screen goes black.