Author's Notes: (slinks in) Uhm, hi…it's been a while, I know. It's been a rough few years … my older brother was killed in a traffic accident last April, coming home from work and that left me more than a bit wobbly. Once I stabilized, I was dealing with car trouble on nearly a monthly basis, culminating in me finally buying a new car in August (I went from a 2007 Dodge Caliber to 2021 Chevrolet Spark, and I LOVE it). I'm also trying to wrap up the last few chapters of my original novel and I'll share more information about that once it's finished and published. I finally got inspiration for this while driving home from work. I listen to an 80's station in Fayetteville when I'm driving, and they played The Promise by When in Rome … and I thought, you know, some of those lines sounds like Slade talking to Meg (other lines, not so much). So, in this chapter, we have many conversations going on, one of which will provide a springboard to moving things forward between Slade and Meg (yes, finally).

Chapter Eleven

UsE Your Words

"But understand me, and understand me well. If your actions or words impact my daughter in any way, shape or form? Oh, then it becomes my business … and I will make you regret it."

Oh … dear. That didn't sound good. Not at all. He'd known Meg Carvalho, although not very well, for nearly fifteen years. He met her at her husband's funeral, performed by his best friend Rabbi William Benowitz, although the priest was fairly sure she didn't remember that first meeting, or much of anything the next few months. The poor girl was barely aware of anything going on … the only thing that could draw a reaction was the babbling of her toddler, Angel.

AS the years passed, and as she emerged from the fog of grief, he came to know her better. He'd had very few occasions to see her genuinely angry, in part because, as the priest in residence of their parish, he spent most of his time doing things that their young(er) pastor didn't have the time (or patience) for. Normally, Rick and Andy saw to the teens in the parish, but Rick was presiding over a wedding Mass, and Andy was officiating at a funeral, so here he was. It wasn't his first time to the youth center, but it was his first time at the center while Meg was anywhere but at Slade Wilson's side. So, he was more than a little surprised when he entered the center and found the main floor deserted. Knowing it was still being worked on, he led the boys upstairs to the classrooms … and heard that come out of the normally level-headed woman. And yes, he knew it had to be her, because he recognized her voice. One of the boys breathed, "Sheesh, Father Vic … I didn't think Miss C could get mad!" Father Victor Crown (and oh yes, the jokes about his name got old before he even reached the seminary) merely smiled.

"She's only human, Tonio … she gets angry just like everyone else," Father Vic answered mildly. He rapped lightly on the door frame to the room in question and saw the familiar, petite form of Meg Carvalho. She flushed, just a little, but waved him inside. There were two men with her … one was her father, whom Vic met several times. During his visits to the States and Destine, Bastiaan de Vries became Vic's favorite partner for playing Go (since Rick was more into Battleship). The other man … well, judging from his sheepish expression, it was Vic's bet that he was the one she was talking to, or rather, the one she was warning. He offered her a small smile, saying, "My apologies for interrupting, but I've brought the boys over … do you need them in the pit?"

He was actually hoping she would say, 'no,' since it was the boys' first time here … and they were actually true volunteers. His prayers were answered only seconds later when Meg shook her head, answering, "Slade and his younger brother are there now. However … we just discovered another whole section on the first floor. The main area will be a gathering area, but we're talking about turning this new section into a basketball court and a place to have dances. It … could use a lot of work before we do either." Much to Vic's amusement, the boys liked the idea of a basketball court … a lot. They all brightened, talking excitedly to each other. Meg's smile broadened as she went on, "Dad, if you wouldn't mind watching over Angel and the boys, I'll escort these gentlemen to their new work area."

"Ja, of course. Good to see you, Father. Hopefully, we'll have that rematch while I'm here," Bastiaan de Vries observed with a warm smile. He added with a baleful look at his companion, "And I will also keep an eye on Gideon until you return, liefje. Slade will speak to his father when he is ready." Vic blinked in astonishment. Oh. This was Slade Wilson's father? Hmm. Interesting. He supposed he could be forgiven for not picking up on it, as the two men looked nothing alike (then again, Meg definitely favored her father more than her mother in terms of looks … as well as personality). Slade was on the quiet side, at least with people he didn't know and trust, and that included Vic. The priest wasn't entirely sure if Slade trusted Meg … although he did trust her with his son, which really said all that needed to be said.

"Thanks, Dad … oh, and you might want to keep an eye on Grant. Just to be safe. He's very protective of Slade, and I wouldn't put it past him to kick his grandfather in the shin for upsetting Slade," Meg answered. Vic hadn't seen that in Grant, but in other kids his age, absolutely. And then the rest of her final sentence registered. He hadn't seen Slade when they entered the youth center, and she just mentioned that her other half was in the pit with his brother. And normally, they saved the pit for when Slade was dealing with a painful memory. He looked at the other man again, and as if hearing his thoughts, Meg said with a quiet sigh, "Long story, Father."

"Understood," he replied, even though he really, really didn't. On the other hand, it also really wasn't any of his business. So, instead of commenting further, Father Vic said, "I will follow your lead … just out of curiosity, since you mentioned that an area for dances might end up within the center, have you ever thought about themes? Not just for teenagers, but old fogies? Maybe a forties night?" Meg flashed him a mischievous grin as she joined him and the boys in the hallway. That was a definite yes.

"That's under discussion, actually … Slade and I have also been discussing having a senior prom for the residents of the retirement home where I used to work," Meg answered. Oh, that was even better! She went on, "I was actually hoping you'd have some ideas, aside from the obvious, about the types of music we would play at that sort of senior prom. When Aunt Chloe and I went to Canada to visit my grandparents, they often played Guy Lombardo … to enrich my education, they said."

"I would be delighted … although, to be fair, these days, you should probably include some Rolling Stones, the Eagles, and the Beatles on that list," he responded. Meg snickered at that, but nodded. She led them down the hall and Vic caught a glimpse of them in one of the more reflective windows. It took all of his self-control to keep from laughing at the sight of the boys trailing behind them like obedient little ducklings. He wished he could take a picture of them to show the boys' parents. That wasn't possible, so instead, he focused on the woman in front of them and how she was navigating the center. That would be needed later.

DSDSDSDSDSDS

Even after their conversation, Slade was unsettled. Oliver was expecting as much, so he was far from surprised when his older brother descended into the mess that was the pit. For the next half hour, they worked together (because no, he wasn't going to sit on the sidelines while Slade fought his way through the pit), until finally, Slade stopped. And it wasn't a matter of him putting down the tool at hand … he just stopped. Oliver put down his own tool, before moving carefully to Slade's side and saying softly, "Enough."

Slade didn't answer immediately, but then nodded and together, they left the pit behind, making the short walk back to the cleanest section of the room. The brothers of Lian Yu sat in a companionable silence, until Slade murmured, "You don't have to stay here." Oliver inclined his head. He knew that. A glance at his brother told him that the corners of Slade's lips had lifted, but neither man spoke further for several moments. Oliver wanted to talk about Meg, about Angel, about Grant … about the bond he saw growing between this man who taught him so much and the woman who opened her home (and, he suspected, her heart) to Slade and his youngest son. But he kept silent, at least for now … he knew Slade well enough to realize that the other man would retreat if he commented on that. Besides, it wasn't his business. Not now. Not yet. Not until Slade made it his business.

Instead, he said quietly once he was ready to speak, "I abandoned you once … never again." Slade looked up sharply, and Oliver went on, "On the Amazo, I chose to try to kill you, rather than save you. I've never stopped regretting that." Slade opened his mouth, but Oliver went on, "Slade. You told me once that I had to forgive myself. This … acknowledging my regrets for the way things happened between us at the end, that's part of it. And I will say it once more … I will never abandon you again."

The words were quietly spoken, but they rang out like a bell in the stillness of the room. Slade's mouth opened and closed for several moments, before saying, "I didn't leave you much choice, kid. Not after what I did to you, to Sara, to anyone who stood in my way." Oliver didn't answer, because he'd said what he needed to say. Slade didn't continue for a long time, but at last, he said, "Ready to head back up?" He looked around what was called the pit, before glancing down at himself and grimacing.

"Yeah, I think we might need to rescue your father from Meg. After we get showers first, of course … I don't think either of us need to be rejoining the others like this," Oliver observed wryly, surprising a laugh out of Slade. Oliver continued, still grinning, "And if not from Meg, then definitely Grant. That boy is very protective of you." Slade looked down, but it wasn't shame … it wasn't even embarrassment. It was … Oliver said slowly, "It never occurred to you, that he might be protective of you? Was Joe not like that?" Slade exhaled slowly.

"I'm sure he was … it's just that … well, I wasn't around Joe as much when he was that age. Adeline and I protected Joe from our jobs as much as possible when he was younger, until our camping trip when he was a teenager. We couldn't protect Grant … not from his potential future self, not from watching Adeline die. And when he learned that Meg and Angel volunteer at a local hospital to cuddle premature babies, he wanted to join them. Not even Meg telling him that sometimes, those babies do die changed his mind," Slade answered. His brother looked up at him, with that faint smile hovering around his lips, adding, "My little boy asked, 'but sometimes they live? Sometimes, the cuddling saves them?' Meg said yes, and that was that for Grant."

Oliver swallowed hard. He wondered if the hospitals in Starling had similar programs. If not, he would ask Thea to look into suggesting them. He was well aware that what worked in one city wouldn't necessarily work in another. Even so, if Thea made the suggestion to the hospital and offered support, the hospitals could adapt the ideas that would work for them and discard what didn't. He made a mental note to do that once he and William returned to the hotel (and after he checked on Aunt Becca), before asking Slade, "Have you ever done that? Gone with them to the hospital and cuddle the babies?" Because if he did, Oliver wanted the pictures. Unfortunately, he was destined to be disappointed.

"I drive them. I haven't accompanied them yet. Usually, I drive around the town or visit the hardware store to check on what they currently have in stock. Some of it's for the center, but some of it's for the house. Meg and I have been brainstorming about DIY projects that Grant and I can do together. Meg's been able to do most repairs on her own, but there were some things she wanted done with the house that she couldn't, and her family at the police station weren't able to assist with. Turning that second floor of the garage into an in-law apartment was one of them, but there are others," Slade answered.

Since it was just them right now, and didn't need to worry about upsetting anyone, Oliver finally felt comfortable enough to ask, "How did her husband die? I know she's a widow, and she'd mentioned that she raised Angel mostly on her own … kind of got the impression that her husband died in the line of duty, but couldn't bring myself to ask how."

Slade grimaced a bit, before rising to his feet and offering his hand to Oliver. The mayor allowed himself to be pulled upright, following Slade to the shower room. He actually wasn't surprised to see that the shower room, just down the hall from the pit, was one of the sections first completed. Slade answered as he retrieved towels for them both, "Yeah, it was in the line of duty. She doesn't talk about it much … she and Angel were still in Maryland when it happened … but there was a horrific traffic incident in Destine, only days before their scheduled departure from Maryland, and he was killed in the aftermath."

Oliver hissed out a breath. Oh, that sucked … to be so close, and then have to come to your new home for your husband's funeral. Slade pulled off his t-shirt, before adding, "Angel was barely two years old. She doesn't have any memory of her father." Which meant, whether he would acknowledge it or not, that Slade had become her father figure in the months since his arrival in Destine. Thinking of his time on the island, before everything fell apart … Oliver had to conclude Angel really couldn't have had a better one.

And then, he followed his brother's example and began stripping to take his own shower. As he toed his shoes off, he asked, "By the way, I meant to ask earlier … was that a bike I saw in the garage?" Slade's somewhat sheepish expression was his answer, and Oliver added, "Please tell me that you don't take Grant on that." Now, Slade just glowered at him and Oliver added with a mischievous grin, "It's a valid question … I didn't see anything else you might have driven."

"You mean aside from the bus we came in?" Slade asked in a somewhat acidic voice and he sounded so much like the man Oliver first met, all those years ago, the mayor had to laugh. Slade glowered at him, before his lips quirked a bit, and he went on, "I'm borrowing a car until I can finish my project … getting an old pick-up truck running. One of Meg's family members in the town police force loaned his car to me until I get the truck sorted. She generally stays out of how I raise Grant, but getting an actual car that he could ride in was non-negotiable."

"As if you hadn't already decided that," Oliver retorted, rising to his feet. Slade smirked and ducked inside the shower stall. A second after that, the water was turned on and Oliver smiled to himself, stepping into his own stall. Neither man took long … it was less of a shower and more of a dousing. They were in their respective stalls no more than five minutes, probably less … but when they emerged, they found Bastiaan de Vries leaning against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Oliver was immediately grateful that he'd thought to wrap a towel around his waist (not because he was concerned about the men who might walk in, but because he was afraid of the possibility that Angel would … and yes, he noticed the way she looked at him).

The man inclined his head to both Oliver and Slade (who emerged from his stall about ninety seconds before Oliver did), saying, "My daughter directed the young men brought over to assist by Father Crown to what will be the ballroom." The ballroom, Oliver knew, was directly above them. Slade nodded and de Vries continued, "She is now taking your father on an extended tour of the facility. I do believe she would have dragged him around by the ear, if needed. I told her I would catch up as I wanted to speak with Father Crown. How fortunate for me, that the ballroom is directly above this room. We should talk about my daughter and granddaughter, Meneer Wilson."

Oliver knew, better than anyone else, what his older brother was capable of. He knew Slade Wilson could take care of himself. But Slade was family. He was on the point of telling Meg's father that anything he had to say to Slade, he could say in front of Oliver. But, as he so often did, Slade had other plans. He said quietly, his gaze never leaving Bastiaan de Vries, "It's fine, kid. I'll meet you topside." Oliver stared at his brother for a few moments, then nodded, dressing quickly. He didn't say a word to the Dutch operative … just stared at him a few minutes. This was about family, he understood that … but Slade was his family, and he would fight at his brother's side. He stood against Slade himself, against Malcolm Merlyn, against Damien Darkh and too many others. For all that Bastiaan de Vries had his respect, Slade earned his loyalty. A ghost of a smile crossed the older operative's face and he inclined his head. With that message sent and received, Oliver made his way to the tour now going on.

DSDSDSDSDS

"Shall we walk?" Slade Wilson inquired as he dressed. The younger man was … Bastiaan had to give him credit. He didn't seem even remotely uncomfortable. Yes, they were on his home ground, his territory … but Bastiaan was waiting for him when he got out of the shower, mostly naked and therefore vulnerable. That wasn't really his intent when he came to the shower room after speaking with Father Vic, but anyone in his line of work knew how to turn an unexpected advantage into a potential weapon.

The thing was, Slade was in that same line of work. Bastiaan inclined his head and when the younger operative finished dressing, he followed Slade from the pit. AS they walked, Bastiaan explained, "My daughter is very put-out with your father. She informed him that the moment his actions or words led to problems for Angel, there would be consequences." Slade smirked at that, and Bastiaan went on, "That being said, I'm not asking you what your intentions are toward my Meg. I want to know how far you're willing to go to protect her and Angel."

They walked in silence for several moments, which meant Slade was mulling it over. Good. He wanted him to think about it, rather than spout the first thing that came to his mind. At last, the other operative said quietly, "Meg would never forgive me if I burned down the world for her or Angel. I lost my soul once, and I'm not interested in doing it again. Even without the Mirukuru, I am dangerous … I could easily hurt them without ever meaning it."

That was good. That was very good. People who were willing to burn the world for someone had a bad tendency to burn that one person along with everything and everyone else. After a moment, Slade went on, "I … care for her. Greatly. And Angel. Beyond that …" His voice trailed off. Bastiaan didn't speak for several moments, as he was considering what was said and what wasn't said. Slade hadn't said that he would die for Meg or Angel. This was a good thing (even though Bastiaan had a feeling Slade would) … it meant that Slade was actively thinking and not given to bravado. Which, he shouldn't be, since he was a man, not a boy, but as Bastiaan well knew, age and maturity didn't necessarily match.

But, as it turned out, Slade wasn't finished. He added after a moment, "The other thing I can tell you is that I won't sacrifice Grant for them … but I would sacrifice myself." And that … that was all Bastiaan could ask for. He would never want Slade to sacrifice his eleven year old son for the sake of a grown woman and a teenage girl, who under normal circumstances were capable of taking care of themselves, even if that grown woman was his daughter and that teenage girl was his granddaughter.

"You have alleviated my concerns … I see the way you look at my daughter and the way she looks at you. I wanted to be sure that you and she could have a healthy relationship. My daughter had very few positive role models in terms of how relationships work while she was growing up, so I worry," Bastiaan explained, "I never had a real opportunity to see how she interacted with my son-in-law, I was never around them long enough to see. Oh, yes … I know how my daughter grieved when he was taken from them, but I also know that one can grieve the loss of an unhealthy relationship just as easily as for a healthy one. I can't be sure if they were a team … but I know that you and Meg are."

Slade Wilson stared at him in clear astonishment, but Bastiaan still wasn't finished. They were approaching his girls, Mayor Queen and his son, Gideon and Grant (the little boy still glowering at his grandfather, much to Bastiaan's amusement), so Bastiaan had to make this quick. He told Slade with a smile he knew was un-nerving, "You have my blessing, if you and Meg decide you want to take a chance on each other. Just be aware that I will make you regret ever being born if you ever hurt her and I have the knowledge and experience to dump your body where you will never be found." And then, his daughter was turning to face him with that bright smile he so adored, so there would be no more time for a conversation with Slade Wilson. Which was fine, because he said what he said, what he needed to say as a good father.

TBC

Forgot to mention in the notes above … last year, I began traveling to Europe again, my first time in three years (between Covid and going to New Zealand in 2020, before everything shut down). I went to Porto, Portugal, which was awesome. This past March, I went to Edinburgh, Scotland. And in three months, I leave for Vienna, Austria. And guess where I'm staying? A beautiful hotel which is a three-minute walk to St. Stephen, the very same St. Stephen where Joe Wilson has been serving his punishment. Will I be taking a proper tour of St. Stephen, including the catacombs? What do you think? I will not make any promises about the next update, as I'm at the mercy of the muse. I can tell you that Rebecca will be making an appearance … that much is already written.