This has taken me a really long time, and I'm so sorry. I'm playing violin with a friend at his senior recital on March 2, and finding the time to practice with him in addition to everything else I'm already doing plus a few family emergencies made it almost impossible for me to work on this for awhile. Hopefully the next chapter will come out sooner.
Also, I was watching the Arrow series finale a few days ago and realized that the flashbacks in that episode take place in between 1x05 and 1x06, so I think I'm going to write a reaction to the flashbacks thrown in there. I'm going to try to rearrange the chapters once I'm ready to post it, so I don't know what that's going to look like on your end. I'll post that and the actual next chapter at the same time and put something up here so you all know it's there just in case doesn't email you about it.
Constantine looked around as the screen faded to black, a satisfied smile growing on his face as he saw that most of the people in the room had smiles on their faces. They were really truly beginning to care for Oliver and his family, and they were happy to see Oliver and Moira making up and spending time together as mother and son. He just hoped that everyone would still feel that way after the next couple of installments. "Right," he said loudly, getting everyone's attention. "I'm sure that gave you some more insight into the inner workings of the Queen family, and also a bit more about Oliver. Before we continue, I want to say a few things about what you're about to see."
Everyone looked at him expectantly, except for Oliver, who glanced at Diggle with a nervous expression. "This is the first time you will see Oliver meet someone, besides those who become an integral part of his team, who becomes a very important part of his and the city's lives in the future," Constantine continued. "The Huntress."
There were murmurs and a few gasps as everyone digested that statement. "I'm sure almost everyone knows the basics," he continued after a moment. "Her real name is Helena Bertinelli and she was trying to kill her father. However, it was a lot more complicated than that."
"It always is," Oliver muttered, but the room was so quiet that everyone heard him.
"I ask that you withhold judgment on anyone, either her or Oliver, until later," Constantine stated firmly. "She returns a few times, and you won't have enough information about everything that happens until later. Just remember, as you watch this, that at this point in time, Oliver was alone and lost, with no one to turn to who he trusted."
He looked around the room until he got affirmative nods form everyone. "Right then," Constantine muttered. "Here we go."
Oliver is driving down the street on his motorcycle. He comes to a halt and takes off his helmet, answering a call from Thea via his Bluetooth. "Hi," Thea says. "Mom said I'm supposed to remind you to pick her up from lunch."
"Was I supposed to have lunch with her today?" Oliver asks sarcastically.
"She said she left you like five messages," Thea says, not having any of it. "Just bite the bullet and have a Cobb salad with the woman."
"You know, Thea," Oliver fires back, "sometimes it's difficult to remember which one of you is my mother."
He hangs up.
Outside Queen Consolidated, Moira is leaving, deep in conversation. "Mrs. Queen," the man says, "all I'm asking for is a chance to sit down and discuss our proposal."
"If that's all it is, then I can save us both the time," Moira answers. "It's rejected."
"I see," the man says. "May I ask why?"
"Do I really need to answer that, Mr. Copani?" Moira says tiredly.
Across the street, Oliver pulls up.
"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm meeting my son for lunch," Moira ends the conversation.
Oliver takes off his helmet and waves at his mother, who nods back and raises her hand slightly, still trying to get away from Paul Copani. Around the corner, screeching tires get Oliver's attention as a motorcyclist zips around the corner, driving on the sidewalk, headed straight for Moira and Paul Copani. As Oliver watches, the motorcyclist pulls out a gun and aims it at Moira and Copani. "Get down!" Oliver shouts at his mother.
Both she and Copani turn towards him and see the motorcyclist, but before either of them can do anything, Copani is shot and falls into Moira, who is knocked backwards onto the pavement and hits her head. Oliver runs across the street to his mother. "Mom!" he says quickly, "Are you okay?"
"I'm all right," she answers faintly.
"Are you hurt?" Oliver insists, helping her into a sitting position.
"No, I'm…I'm…" she looks over and sees Paul Copani's body.
"Are you sure?" Oliver demands.
"I'm fine! I'm fine!" she says louder, which seems to satisfy Oliver, who turns to other people rushing out of the building. "Call 911!" he orders, and runs away.
He runs underneath the building and cuts across the street, catching up to the motorcyclist and keeping them in his sights as he follows on foot. He runs down an alley and then quickly turns down another one after the motorcyclist is diverted because of road work. He passes a dumpster and grabs a metal rod out of it, throwing it at the wheel of the motorcycle. The cyclist loses control, but Oliver is cut off by a truck and by the time it passes, they're gone. He grits his teeth in frustration.
"Did you seriously almost outrun a motorcycle?" Benjj asked, astonished.
"I'm fast," Oliver shrugged.
Pretty much the whole room looked at him incredulously, astonished at how quickly he could pass off his abilities. Barry, however, snorted. "Now, if I recall correctly," he started, but Oliver cut him off.
"I'm pretty sure we agreed we were never talking about that again," he growled.
Barry just laughed, Kara shoulder-bumped him, Felicity covered her mouth to hide her laughter, Oliver glared at all of them in turn, and again, the room marveled at how normal these powerful people seemed to be.
That night at the hospital, Moira is being checked out by Dr. Lam when Oliver walks in, followed by Thea. "Hi," Oliver greets Dr. Lam, looking at him awkwardly for a moment, as the last time he'd seen him was right after he came home. He then turns to Moira. "Are you okay?" he asks her.
"I'm fine," she answers.
He cocks his head at her. "I'm fine," she repeats.
She looks past him to Thea. "Did you reach Walter?" she asks hopefully.
"No," Thea answers, shaking her head. "I'm sorry."
"As I was telling your mother and sister," Dr. Lam says, "the CAT scan showed a grade two concussion. She can go home so long as someone stays with her, just to make sure there are no after effects."
"Thank you," Oliver says, trying to sound grateful but unable to hide his unease around him.
Dr. Lam nods and, as if understanding that his presence was making Oliver uncomfortable, leaves without another word.
"Do you not like him?" Spencer asked.
"It's not that I don't like him," Oliver answered after a moment's hesitation. "I just. . .at that point in time, I didn't trust anyone, and the last few doctors I'd been around were. . .uh. . .not kosher, to say the least. Add to that the fact that the last time I had seen him, I'd just gotten back, and I'm sure you'll see it, but the circumstances surrounding my return ensured that I wasn't at my best. I'm just not very comfortable in hospitals anymore. Any hospitals. I don't like not being in control, and hospitals always remind me of. . .other, less pleasant places."
Spencer looked at him for a moment, but eventually understood he wasn't going to say anything else.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left you," Oliver says as soon as Dr. Lam's footsteps could no longer be heard. "I thought you were fine."
"What did you think you were doing, anyway?" Moira asks.
"Yeah, well, I wanted to get the license plate of the guy who took a shot at you," Oliver stumbles over his lie.
"Well, that was foolish," Moira scolds him.
Oliver nods and takes it. "Yeah," he mouths.
They hug, and Oliver exits the room with Thea, who rounds on him as soon as the door closes. "So, did you get the license plate?" she asks.
"No," Oliver answers, lying a bit more convincingly this time. "He got away."
"Maybe you should spend a little less time trying to be a hero," she says. "You're obviously not very good at it."
"That's cute," Oliver says, trying not to get into it with her right now.
"I wasn't trying to be," Thea says, forcing the issue. "You left Mom in the street, alone and hurt, in the street. To get a license plate?"
"You don't believe me?" Oliver asks, trying to look hurt but winding up looking more worried.
"I love you," Thea answers. "Mom loves you. But it's getting hard when you won't be truthful with us."
She goes back into Moira's room, and Oliver stares after her for a moment before deciding that retreat was the better part of valor. He walks down the hall and runs into Lance and Hilton. "Detectives," he acknowledges them. "Do you have any leads on the shooter?"
"Not yet," Hilton answers. "Did you get a good look at him?"
"No, he was wearing a helmet," Oliver answers.
"Don't worry," Hilton assures him. "We'll find him."
"My head of security is on his way," Oliver informs them. "I want to make sure there are men outside my mother's door. She needs to be protected."
"Well, you know your family's at the tippy-top of my list of priorities," Lance says sarcastically. "But the guy that she was with was connected. Mobbed up to the eyeballs connected. She wasn't the target."
Oliver looks at him for a moment and leaves without another word. "And you're welcome," Lance mutters.
Laurel is working in her apartment when there is a knock on the door. She opens it to find a delivery boy holding a pizza and Tommy holding a take-out bag. She looks between the two of them in confusion. "Uh, technically I did get here like ten seconds before this guy," Tommy jokes.
The delivery boy tries to force back a smile, and Laurel smiles with a sigh. She hands a wad of cash to the delivery boy. "Keep the change," she tells him, and he hands off the pizza and leaves with a grateful smile.
Tommy walks in after Laurel and closes the door. "So, Tommy, what brings you by so late?" she asks.
"Well, I assumed, rightly, that you would be at home working tonight," Tommy answers as they walk into the kitchen, "and I also assumed that you might be hungry, also rightly."
Laurel whirls around, pizza box on her hip, and tilts her head playfully. "I don't know," she says teasingly, "this is a mushroom and olive pizza from Mario's."
"Ooh, that is d*** good pie," Tommy acknowledges.
Laurel puts the box on the counter. "All right, what do you have to offer?"
"Spicy tuna on crispy rice from Toro," Tommy pitches, holding up the bag.
Laurel looks at him for a moment. "Oh, d*** you, Merlyn," she finally says, taking the bag. "I hope sushi was all you had in mind," she warns, opening the bag.
"Uh, actually, there was something that I wanted to ask you," Tommy says, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.
"And what's that?" Laurel asks.
"Will you go out with me?" Tommy asks simply. "Like, on a date."
"You brought me dinner to ask me to dinner?" Laurel teases.
"Well," Tommy squeaks for a moment, "I also did throw you a really big charity gala."
"See, I thought you threw it for the hundreds of people it would benefit," Laurel challenges him.
"Oh, yeah yeah yeah, hundreds of people," Tommy agrees quickly, "plus one more."
"Tommy," Laurel laughs.
"Laurel, I get it," Tommy says. "Okay, this is all happening for us in the wrong order. You know, first we're friends for many years, and then briefly we are friends with benefits, extremely excellent benefits, and now I am just hoping that we can be two people, sitting in the same restaurant, at the same table, at the same time. See, when I say it like that it doesn't sound so scary, does it?"
In the foundry, Oliver is training. Diggle comes down to join him. "Oliver, your mom was nearly killed, I think you can take a day off from training," he says.
"My mother wasn't the target," Oliver counters, walking over to the computers. "This man was. Paul Copani. He was trying to close a deal with her when they were shot at. Copani works for Bertinelli Construction and Frank Bertinelli."
"The mob boss?" Diggle asks incredulously.
"I did some digging," Oliver continues. "Copani isn't the first member of Bertinelli's crew who's been hit."
"You did some digging," Diggle repeats.
Oliver sighs. "Bertinelli has a lot of enemies," he continues, ignoring Diggle's commentary. "The best way to figure out who's trying to target his organization is to get inside of it."
"So let me get this right, Oliver," Diggle says slowly. "Your mother is shot at, nearly killed, and the way you process this emotionally is by going undercover with the mob?"
"I'm not trying to process it emotionally," Oliver says incredulously.
"Yeah, well, maybe that's your problem, man," Diggle insists. "You ever thought about just being there for your family?"
"I tried that today with Thea," Oliver answers. "She told me I wasn't being honest with her, and she's right. I can't very well explain to her that I left our mother alone and bleeding on the pavement because I am fast enough to almost run down the attacker. But what I can do is protect my family. And Diggle, when I find out who this guy is, he's a dead man."
"Oh, Ollie," Thea said sadly.
"It's okay, Speedy," Oliver assured her.
At the mansion, Thea walks down the stairs in a snazzy outfit. "Speedy!" Oliver calls, descending the stairs on the other side of the foyer dressed in a suit. "Where are you going?"
"Clubbing," Thea answers, "which is difficult to do when you're in a house and not in an actual club."
"I have to go out tonight," Oliver says, joining her by the door. "I thought you'd be watching Mom."
"I spent the whole day with her," Thea answers irritably. "I thought you were taking the night shift."
"I'm sorry, but this thing, it's important," Oliver answers.
Thea sighs. "You know, sometimes, Ollie, I just don't get you," she says. "And by sometimes, I mean ever."
"You're actually not the first person to say that to me today," Oliver says.
"Oh, why am I not surprised?" Thea says, frustrated.
At that moment, Tommy walks in. "Oh, nice dress," he says, taking Thea in. "Where you headed?"
"Upstairs, apparently," she growls before heading back upstairs.
"Long story," Oliver whispers to Tommy before heading out of the foyer.
"Hey, I heard about your mom," Tommy says, following him. "Is she all right?"
"She's resting upstairs," Oliver answers, still walking. "More shaken up than anything."
Oliver finds what he's looking for in the sitting room: his keys. "I gotta run to this, uh, business thing, but I do appreciate you stopping by," he says, grabbing the keys off the coffee table.
"It's no problem, just so long as your mom's all right," Tommy answers.
"Yeah," Oliver says, his tone saying that he really isn't worried about her current health at all.
He walks past Tommy. "Hey, one more thing," Tommy calls after him, and Oliver turns back to face him. "Mainly because I don't want you to find this out from someone else, that someone else especially being Laurel," he starts slowly, "uh, we're going to dinner. As in a. . .a date."
Oliver nods. "That's. . .that's good," he says after a moment. "Laurel deserves someone special, and so do you."
Tommy smiles; clearly, Oliver's speech meant a lot to him. "Thanks, man," he says.
"I gotta run to this thing," Oliver says quickly.
"All right, absolutely," Tommy acknowledges. "I'll catch you later."
"Oh, and uh, Tommy?" Oliver says, turning back around. "If you hurt her, I'll snap your neck."
Tommy looks at him and swallows. "I'm just kidding," Oliver says, a smile on his face that says he's not kidding at all.
Tommy chuckles nervously, watching Oliver leave.
"Would you actually have done that?" Ann asked quietly.
"No," Oliver said, then reconsiders. "Probably not. I might have choked him out, or kidnapped him and roughed him up a bit. I would never have killed him."
At the Bertinelli home, Oliver rings the doorbell. Frank Bertinelli himself answers. "Mr. Bertinelli," Oliver says, recognizing him, and the two shake hands.
"Call me Frank," Frank says.
"Oh, call me Oliver," Oliver returns, entering.
"Thank you for agreeing to meet me at my home," Frank says, closing the door.
"My father used to say that living rooms make the best conference rooms," Oliver answers.
"Oh, I'm gonna steal that," Frank jokes.
He gestures to a man standing by the stairs. "Nick Salvati, my associate," Frank introduces, and Oliver and Nick shake hands.
"How do you do," Oliver greets him.
"Let's have a drink," Nick says, nodding his head towards the living room.
The three men head towards the living room, but not before Oliver sees Helena walking around the upstairs gallery.
At the Queen mansion, Thea and Moira are in Moira's bed, in pajamas. Moira is reading a magazine Thea is flipping channels. "So, what are you in the mood for?" she asks. "We could watch 'Reality Housewife Cooking Show,' or 'Cop Docs.'"
Moira looks at her questioningly. "It's where doctors run around fighting crime when they're not all sleeping with each other," Thea summarizes.
Moira laughs. "Whatever you want, sweetheart," she says. "You're the one who's given up your evening out."
"Oh, it's not like there's anybody else who could be staying with you," Thea says sarcastically. "Oh wait, yes there is."
"Don't be too harsh on your brother," Moira says.
"Like you weren't just telling him he wasn't spending enough time with you last week," Sara hissed.
"Why not?" Thea asks. "I mean, aren't you getting sick of his lies?"
"Thea, everyone has secrets," Moira says after a moment.
"Yeah, you would know," Thea muttered.
"I mean, we all have things that we wanna keep to ourselves," Moira continues.
"I just don't get him sometimes," Thea answers.
Moira puts her magazine down and pulls Thea against her chest. "I know," Moira says soothingly. "I know. You know, being in that hospital and seeing Dr. Lam again, it made me remember the day that Oliver came home. It was Dr. Lam that told me that the Oliver we'd lost might not be the Oliver that they'd found. I think it's easy to forget, but he lived apart from civilization for five years."
"So what, he gets, like, a free pass?" Thea asks critically.
"No, no, no, no, not at all," Moira answers. "I. . .I just think we need to stop judging him for the Oliver he was and start accepting him for the Oliver that he is."
Moira kisses Thea on the head as she thinks over her words.
"So your mom wasn't always critical," Edward observed.
"No, not always," Thea was the one who answered. "I remember that night. It was the first time in awhile I actually felt close to her. She could be cold and harsh, but she also had moments where she was the best mom ever. Ollie and I have always had a love/hate relationship with her."
At the Bertinelli mansion, Oliver is meeting with Frank and Nick. "So, Oliver," Frank says, handing Oliver a drink, "I'll be honest with you. I was surprised to hear from you. It was my impression from the local news that you weren't gonna be involved with your family's business."
"Well, apparently there were a few catch phrases that I missed while I was away for five years, one of them being 'lamestream media,'" Oliver jokes. "The press never gets anything right."
"Hey!" Kara exclaimed.
"Um, I was undercover with the mob at the time?" Oliver said in his defense.
Kara glared at him.
"Oh, I know a thing or two about that," Frank agrees.
Nick's phone rings and he leaves the room to take the call. Oliver watches him go. "So, Oliver, I'll be blunt," Frank says, taking Oliver's attention away from Nick. "I want the contract to build Queen Consolidated's new Applied Sciences Division."
"And I am inclined to give it to you," Oliver answers.
"Your mother wasn't quite so enthusiastic," Frank says dryly. "How is she, by the way?"
"She's recuperating at home," Oliver answers. "Thank you."
"What a terrible thing that happened," Frank continues.
"And Frank, I was very sorry to hear about what happened to Paul Copani," Oliver says evenly.
"Ah, Paul was a good friend," Frank says quietly. "He was a good man."
He sighs. "The violence in this city," he mutters, taking a drink. "You know, sometimes I wonder why I stay."
"I've had the same thought," Oliver admits.
"So why'd you come back?" Frank asks. "After that island, you could have settled anywhere in the world."
"Because Starling City is my home," Oliver answers simply.
Helena enters at that moment, reciting a saying in Italian. Oliver looks at her questioningly. "No matter which way you go or turn you always end up at home," Helena translates.
Frank and Oliver both stand, their ingrained manners showing themselves. "Oliver, this is my daughter Helena," Frank introduces.
"Hello," Oliver greets her, shaking her hand.
"Nice to meet you," she says politely. "I'm heading out," she says to her father.
"All right," Frank acknowledges. "Just take one of the guys with you."
"I can take care of myself," Helena says in an annoyed tone.
"I wasn't asking, sweetie," Frank says, cupping her chin in his hand in a move that she is obviously too old for. She turns her head, shrugging off his hand.
Nick walks back in at that moment. "Frank, that meeting you requested," he says. "They can do it. Now."
"I can come back another time," Oliver says, seeing his exit.
"No, no, no," Frank denies quickly. "Just, uh, excuse us for a moment, will you?"
He claps Oliver on the shoulder and takes Helena out into the foyer. "Oliver Queen," she says. "The rich man's Lindsay Lohan."
"Look," Frank says hesitantly, "um, I've got to go to this other meeting, but I need someone to take him to dinner."
"So you pimp out your daughter," Helena observes.
"No," Frank argues, "I ask her to help me close a business deal. A reminder that the family business is dying and that we need this contract, and Oliver Queen can give it to us. Please, Sweat Pea, huh? For us? For me? Hmm?"
Helena nods reluctantly. "That's my girl," Frank says happily.
"He's a creep," Beth said, in an uncharacteristically harsh voice. "Did all of you billionaire heirs have creepy, controlling parents who may or may not have been mass murderer villains?"
"Like I've said before, we're all complicated people," Oliver answered.
"Honestly, it's a miracle we all turned out as well as we did," Thea joked.
Oliver looked at her, amused. "And, like I told you, you're the best of us," he said.
"Somehow, despite everything, I really am," she teased.
Oliver walks in, followed by Nick. "Oliver, I'm so sorry, something has come up," Frank says. "But Helena would love to take you to dinner and discuss the deal further."
"Oh," Oliver says, surprised. "I was hoping to speak with you."
"Well," Frank says, trying to salvage the situation, "as you speak for your family, my daughter also speaks for ours."
"It's. . .It's really not necessary," Oliver says, still trying to get out of it.
Helena looks between him and her father. "It would be my pleasure," she finally says.
"Sure," Oliver says almost immediately.
He and Frank shake hands again. "I look forward to working together," Frank says.
He leaves with Nick and Oliver leaves with Helena.
Helena brings Oliver to a restaurant she is obviously familiar with, as she is greeted personally by the owner and his daughter as soon as they walk in. They are ushered to a table. "You are an angel, Helena," the owner says as he pulls her chair back for her. "So beautiful."
He walks around to Oliver. "Well, we are going to take good care of both of you tonight," he vows. "You'll tell your father hello from us?"
"Of course, Mr. Russo," Helena answers.
"I'll give you a minute," Mr. Russo says.
"Thank you," Oliver answers.
Oliver and Helena sit in awkward silence for a moment. "I heard about your mother's accident," Helena says to break the silence. "Is she gonna be okay?"
"She's gonna be fine," Oliver answers for the umpteenth time today. "Thanks."
"I'm glad," Helena says.
They look at the menu for a moment. "So, why would you want to go into business with my father?" Helena asks. "You know who he is and how he made his money."
"You don't approve of your family's enterprises?" Oliver asks in return.
"We share a name, and that name defines us whether we want it to or not," she answers. "You've already made judgments about me just like I've already made judgments about you."
"Right," Oliver says with a smile. "I'm the rich man's Lindsay Lohan."
Helena laughs awkwardly. "Sorry," she apologizes.
"That's okay," he says.
She glances at him and slowly reaches up to finger her necklace. "Hey, can I ask you something?" she says tentatively.
"Yeah," he answers.
"I know it must have been hell for you, alone on that island for five years, but, um. . ."
She trails off, seemingly losing her nerve. "But what?" Oliver invites.
"But was there ever a day when you were just. . .happy to be away from everything? No pressure from your family, no need to be the person everyone else expects you to be. Was there ever a day when. . ."
"When I didn't feel lost, that I felt. . .free?" Oliver finishes. "More than one, and, uh. . .those are the days that I miss."
He looks at her, a remarkably open expression coming over his face as his eyes become red-rimmed.
"Wait, so everything on the island that we've seen thus far has been absolutely horrible," Clay said. "Does that mean. . .does it get better?"
"For a little while," Oliver answered after a moment. "there were a few months. . .the first summer that I was there, where it actually felt. . .it felt like home. A real home. But it didn't last."
Meanwhile, Tommy and Laurel are also out on their date. Tommy is coughing into his napkin, wiping tear-filled eyes. "What is it, too spicy for you, Merlyn?" Laurel teases.
"No, no, not really, I'm just, um. . ." he stutters. "I'm just crying because I was thinking of a Hallmark commercial I saw earlier today featuring a sick kitty. It was very emotional."
They both laugh at his horrible excuse. "Will there be anything else?" a waiter asks, coming up to their table.
"No, thank you," Tommy answers, having recovered somewhat.
He hands the waiter his credit card and the waiter leaves. "Thanks for letting me take you to dinner," Tommy says to Laurel.
"Well, thank you for letting me choose Indian," Laurel returns.
"You know, I read this article by a film critic once, who said, if he could have one wish, it would be to watch his favorite movie again for the first time," Tommy says, deadly serious. "I kind of wish that was us."
"So you want dinner and a movie," Laurel says, confused.
"No," he answers. "I wish we had just met, and that all this was just beginning, and there wasn't so much of me I wish you'd forget."
"Well, keep saying nice things like that and maybe next time I'll let you choose the restaurant," Laurel says softly.
Tommy breaks into a wide smile. It's completely obvious he's head over heels for her. The waiter, of course, picks that moment to come back. "Mr. Merlyn?" he says tentatively.
"Yeah?" Tommy acknowledges.
"I'm sorry," the waiter continues, a bit stronger, "I'm afraid your credit card has been declined."
"Wait, what?" Spencer questioned. "I thought all you scions had unlimited funds."
"More or less," Oliver answered. "But that's not the issue."
"Did you swipe it a few times?" Tommy suggests, "You know, sometimes those things can be a little glitchy."
"I did," the man answers hesitantly, "and, um, I'm afraid the credit card company wants me to confiscate it. Sorry."
Tommy glances at Laurel, confused, as the waiter leaves with his credit card.
Meanwhile, Oliver and Helena are still at the restaurant. They are the only people left. "People are always asking me, what did I miss the most?" Oliver is saying. He sighs. "Uh, air conditioning. Satellite radio. Tagliet-uh-ta-ta. . ."
"Tagliatelle?" Helena supplies.
"Right," Oliver acknowledges. "But those are the answers that I give people because those are the answers they're expecting."
"Why can't you just be truthful?" Helena asks.
"I don't know how truthful I can be," Oliver answers simply.
Helena studies him for a moment. "You've been through a crucible," she observes. "And it changed you. How could it not?"
Oliver considers her words for a moment, then her necklace catches his eye. "That's beautiful," he says, changing the subject. "Your cross."
Helena glances down at it for a moment. "It's a gift, from my fiance," she answers his unspoken question.
"Fiance," Oliver repeats in a strangely winded voice. "I didn't know you were engaged."
"I'm not, anymore," she answers. "He died."
"I'm sorry," Oliver says.
"Me too," she says. "That was my crucible."
Oliver acknowledges her words and thinks for a moment before speaking. "Boy, it's nice to. . .it's really nice to be with someone that I can be myself with."
"It's nice to be with someone who knows how hard it can be," she returns.
The moment is broken by Oliver's phone ringing. He sighs. "I'm really sorry," he apologizes.
"It's okay," she assures him. "Take it."
"Thank you," he says, pulling out his phone and glancing at the caller ID. He answers it.
"Hey, it's Dig," Dig says over the phone. "Something came up, you gotta get out of there and call me back."
Oliver hangs up and puts his phone back in his jacket. "Helena, I have to go, there's something that I have to do," he tells her. "It's about my mother, otherwise I would, uh. . .I would stay."
"And I would like that," she says with a smile.
Oliver smiles and puts a wad of cash on the table. "Uh, my father would kill me if I let you pay," Helena says, trying to push his hand back.
Oliver keeps his hand over top of the cash and doesn't let go of it until she lets go of him. "I have a confession," he says, standing up. "I didn't want to go out with you tonight."
"That makes two of us," she answers.
"But I'm really glad that I did," he continues.
"That makes two of us," she repeats.
"Hmm," he says with a smile, turning to go.
"Oliver," she calls after him.
He turns around. "Be careful with my father," she warns.
He acknowledges her concern with a nod and smile and leaves.
"I don't understand her," Benji declared. "She's cold-hearted enough to want to kill her own father but she somehow manages to seem almost. . ."
"Vulnerable," Oliver supplied. "She was. She was lost, and I tried to help her, but she didn't want my help. I think you'll find as we go along that things aren't as black and white as most people like to think."
At the mansion, Moira is sitting up in bed when there is a knock at the door. "Thea, you don't need to knock, sweetheart," she calls.
The door opens. "What about me?" Malcolm asks as he walks in. "I hope you don't mind. Thea let me in."
Once again, immediately everyone in the room watched even more intently, wanting to understand what had actually happened with Moira, Malcolm, and the Undertaking.
Moira sits up in bed, immediately tense. "What are you doing here?" she asks.
"I wanted to see how your recovery was going," Malcolm answers smoothly.
"Well surely someone of your means has a telephone," Moira questions.
"I like to see someone when I have something important to talk about," Malcolm answers, walking over to her side of the bed, somehow managing to seem intimidating, threatening, and kind all at once.
Moira sits, staring at him, waiting. "We used to be friends, Moira," Malcolm says after a moment. "I still remember that time. You, me, and Robert. Which is why I came by."
He sits on the bed, leaning in close. "You are a vital part of Starling City's future," he says. "Robert feared that future. He lost his conviction. It's been my experience that when someone has a brush with death like you experienced today, even their deepest held convictions can change. Have they?"
Moira looks him in the eye. "No," she says firmly.
Malcolm smiles. "You didn't have to say it," he tells her. "I can see that they haven't."
He gets up and walks out without another word.
Outside the restaurant, Oliver calls Diggle back. "What happened?" he asks, confused.
"It's what's about to happen," Diggle answers. "Bertinelli's enforcer, Nick Salvati?"
"Yeah, we drank a scotch together," Oliver answers. "He seems like a real stand-up mobster."
"Yeah, well, he's been paying visits to everyone who owes the mob protection money," Diggle continues.
"Diggle, I'm trying to figure out who took a shot at my mother, not take on all of organized crime," Oliver tells him.
"Well listen, Oliver," Diggle insists, "Salvati and his goons have already put four people in the hospital tonight, and if somebody doesn't stop him, the poor b****** who owns Russo's is gonna be next."
"Wait, wait, Russo's?" Oliver repeats.
"It's at the corner of Adams and. . ." Diggle starts.
"I know where it is, Diggle," Oliver interrupts him, "I'm here right now."
"What?" Diggle literally squeaks in surprise.
Oliver sighs. "I was having dinner with Bertinelli's daughter," he explains.
"Oliver, you're supposed to be going undercover, not speed dating," Diggle groans.
"I didn't have a choice," Oliver defends himself.
"Yeah, well, uh, I've seen her on the web," Diggle teases. "You made quite the sacrifice."
Oliver isn't listening anymore, however, because a car has just pulled into the alley behind Russo's. "Salvati's here," he tells Diggle, then hangs up and hurries out of the alley.
Inside, the Russos are locking up when Salvati and his guys push their way in. "I'm sorry, we're closed," Mr. Russo's daughter says timidly.
Salvati walks right up to Mr. Russo. "Oh, Mr. Salvati," Mr. Russo says with forced calmness. "Buona sera. I. . .I have some fresh-made lasagne."
His voice starts to shake as he is surrounded by Salvati's men. "We're not here for food, Mr. Russo," Salvati says threateningly. "Your payment's due."
"I. . .I already made my payment this month," Mr. Russo objects weakly.
"You need to pay again," Salvati tells him.
"Please," Mr. Russo pleads. "I can't afford to make another payment if I'm going. . ."
"Going to what?" Salvati interrupts. "Restock your bar?"
He knocks a few bottles onto the ground, where they shatter. "Break his fingers," he orders his men.
One of them grabs his shoulder. "Leave him alone!" his daughter screams.
"Break hers too," Salvati orders.
"No! Don't touch her!" Mr. Russo shouts.
Before anyone can do anything, however, an arrow hits the fuse box, causing the room to fall into darkness. In the shadows, Oliver quickly starts taking out Salvati's men. While they're fighting, a figure in a motorcycle helmet walks in and starts shooting the men Oliver hadn't already taken out. Oliver shoots the gun away from the figure and they begin fighting after all Salvati's men are down and Salvati has escaped. The figure holds their own for a few moments, but is no match for Oliver, who punches through the visor and pulls off the helmet to reveal Helena. They stare at each other for a moment, and then Helena takes advantage of Oliver's shock to escape. Oliver grimaces and pulls of his hood.
Later, Oliver has returned to the foundry. "I don't understand," he says, pacing. "Why is she targeting her family?"
"I don't know," Diggle answers. "And here I thought you had parental issues."
"It's not a joke, Diggle," Oliver growls.
Diggle turns to him. "Oliver, you're not falling for this girl, are you? Because I know you can't be that crazy. Helena Bertinelli shot at your mother. She also murdered four men in cold blood."
"She has to have reasons for what she's doing," Oliver says, his tone low and dangerous.
"Reasons?" Diggle repeats, standing and walking over to him. "Since when do you care about the bad guys' reasons? Oh, she is the bad guy, Oliver. She's the killer. And whatever's going on in your head, you better get it straight, man. Any attempt on his right hand is gonna send your new friend's father on the warpath."
"I know what I'm doing," Oliver says simply.
Diggle stares at him for a moment. "Now I know how your family feels when you lie to them," he finally says, and walks away, leaving Oliver staring at the floor, a hard expression forming on his face.
Meanwhile, at SCPD, Lance and a tech are going over the security footage from the incident at Russo's. "Is this the only angle we've got?" Lance groans.
"The Russo's chintzed out a bit on their security package," the tech explains.
"Somebody is in the wings with a gun shooting at these guys," Lance growls. "What do you got from earlier?"
"You mean before the shooting?" the tech confirms.
"Yeah," Lance answers.
"A business dinner, a birthday dinner, a couple of blind dates. . ." the tech lists off.
"Any guests of the Chinese persuasion?" Lance suggests.
"Why?" the tech asks.
"Humor me," Lance says simply.
The tech clicks through the footage. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, wait a second," Lance says, taking over the computer. "What was that?"
"Help yourself," the tech snarks.
"Come on," Lance mutters.
He zooms in to see Oliver and Helena, talking at their table. "Son of a b****," Lance curses.
The next morning, at the mansion, Oliver answers a knock at the door. It's Lance.
"Is he going to arrest you again?" Spencer asked.
"No," Oliver answered with a slight chuckle. "I successfully put that genie back in the bottle, at least for the next two years or so."
"Detective," Oliver greets him. "Is everything okay?"
Lance pushes past him into the foyer. "Your, um, your buddy with the arrows was at Russo's last night," he starts.
"And I was there earlier with a date," Oliver finishes. "So. . .what? You think I'm the hood guy again?"
Lance scoffs. "No," he answers in a sarcastic tone. "Your date. Helena Bertinelli. If I were you, I'd stay away from her. Her family is bad news on a good day."
"Why the sudden concern for my well-being?" Oliver asks.
"A few weeks ago I made a mistake," Lance says begrudgingly after a moment. "Almost got you killed."
"And you felt like you owed me one?" Oliver asks, confused.
"If I did," Lance says gruffly, "as far as I'm concerned, this clears the books."
He leaves without another word, and Oliver closes the door after him, a thoughtful look on his face.
Meanwhile, at what can be assumed to be the Merlyn mansion, two men are fencing in the backyard when Tommy walks up. "Can I talk to you?" he demands. "Dad!"
"In case you haven't noticed," one of the men says, "I'm a little occupied at the moment!"
They continue fencing. "I just talked to the accountant," Tommy persists. "He said my accounts were frozen. He said my credit cards were all canceled."
"I pay Sandy a king's ransom each year in fees, Tommy," Malcolm answers, still fencing. "When it comes to money, if he says it's so, it's so."
"Do you think this is a joke?" Tommy shouts.
Malcolm whirls to face him, his face still obscured with the fencing mask. "No," he answers.
He whips his mask off. "You are."
Tommy's face transforms from anger to a blank expression eerily similar to the one Oliver wears when Moira is scolding him.
This does not escape the notice of the people in the room.
"Although I must say," Malcolm continues, "your chronic irresponsibility and terminal laziness has lost its humor."
Tommy shifts on his feet. Malcolm chuckles. "You're wondering, 'why now?'" he almost taunts his son. "The better question is, 'why not sooner?'"
"It's my trust fund," Tommy growls.
"Which is comprised of my money," Malcolm growls back. "Oh, excuse me."
He pats Tommy's cheek. "Was comprised," he amends, and walks away, putting the fencing mask back on.
Tommy walks away as his father begins to fence again.
"Wow," Larry said. "So he wasn't a good father, either."
"No," Oliver said after a moment. "But he died trying to be."
Constantine restarted it before anyone could ask Oliver what that meant.
That night, Helena is sitting at Michael's grave, where Oliver finds her. "Helena," he says quietly.
"How did you find me here?" she asks.
"I followed you from your house," he admits. "Your fiance?"
"Yeah," she nods.
She sets some flowers in front of his grave, stands, and turns to face Oliver. "You said that losing him was your crucible," Oliver says. "That it changed you. You didn't say how."
Helena hesitates. "When you love someone as much as I loved him, with all of your heart, and you. . .you can't just. . .turn that emotion off when they're taken from you. You still feel things as deeply. And if it can't be love that you feel, then. . .then it becomes hate."
"Hate for who?" Oliver asks.
"Oliver," she breathes, almost too quiet to hear.
She takes a few steps towards him. "You should stay away from me," she warns.
She walks away, and Oliver follows. "Helena?" he calls.
"However, before either of them can leave the graveyard, a van pulls up in front of them and several of Bertinelli's men, led by Salvati, jump out, guns raised. "Get in," he orders.
His men grab Helena and Oliver.
They are taken to an abandoned warehouse and their hands are tied behind their backs. Helena is put on a chair, while Oliver is forced to kneel. "My father is going to kill you for this," Helena threatens Salvati.
Oliver is silent, casing the situation. Salvati slaps Helena in the face, knocking her over and off the chair, and Oliver grimaces but doesn't make a move. He folds his hands into an odd position, however. "I've been wanting to do that for years," Salvati gloats. "spoiled b****."
Helena is picked up and put back on the chair. "I knew it was someone from the inside who was waging war on your father and me," he continues. "I just never thought it'd be this inside."
He holds out Helena's cross necklace. "You dropped this at Russo's," he taunts her.
Helena smiles. "You're smarter than I gave you credit for, Nicky," she answers.
"You're not," he retorts.
He pulls back to slap her again. "Hey!" Oliver shouts, interrupting him.
Salvati turns to him in annoyance. "You're a businessman, right, so let's talk business," Oliver pitches. "I can offer you a lot of money if you let us go."
"This isn't about money, Richie Rich," Salvati tells him. "This is about loyalty."
"He's got nothing to do with any of this," Helena says.
"Then what the h*** is it about?" Salvati demands.
"My father had Michael murdered," Helena growls, as Oliver glances toward her, an angry scowl on his face.
"What?" Ann gasped. "That's terrible!"
Oliver nodded. "The way she chose to go about it was wrong, but Helena had good reasons to be angry," he stated. "I think you'll find that many of the people you've heard about are a lot more complicated than the news headlines make them out to be. Including me."
Salvati laughs. "Of course he did," he gloats. "He didn't want you to know the truth. Your rat of a fiance was gathering evidence."
He grabs her hair and pulls her head back. "He was talking to the friggin' FBI. The love of your life was going to destroy your father," he tells her.
"You're wrong," Helena hisses.
Salvati lets her go. "I found a laptop in Michael's bag, Helena," he continues. "Everything that could send your father and me to prison for the rest of our lives was on it. That computer -"
"Was mine!" Helena interrupts. "Michael wasn't the one talking to the FBI. I was!"
"You?" Salvati asks incredulously.
"My father is a monster," Helena growls. "He doesn't care who he hurts to keep his money and power and I wanted it to stop!"
"Well then, it's your fault Michael's dead," Salvati tells her gleefully. "Not your father for ordering the hit, or me for carrying it out."
Helena glares up at him, a look of pure rage coming over her face. "You shot Michael?" she forces out.
"Uh-oh," several people mutter.
Salvati puts her necklace over her head and cradles her face in his hands. "In the chest, so he knew it was me," he tells her.
Oliver grimaces, still contorting his hands into an odd position. "Just like this," Salvati says, pulling back and aiming his gun at Helena's head.
Oliver twists his hands and the zip ties break.
"Wait, was that how you got out the first time? When those men your mother hired kidnapped you and Tommy?" Benji asked. "Did you just dislocate your thumbs?"
Oliver nodded. "A friend taught me how to dislocate my thumbs to get out of restraints," he answered. "Once you do it enough, your ligaments are stretched and conditioned, and it's easier to do it when you have to."
Most of the room nodded, although a few grimaced in distaste and sympathy with the pain Oliver must have gone through for his hands to be so conditioned to be able to do that.
Oliver leaps up and tackles Salvati before he could pull the trigger. However, before he could continue to fight him, he is grabbed from behind by one of Salvati's men. Helena also escapes her restraints and makes a beeline for Salvati, fighting him while Oliver makes quick work of all the other men. Oliver grabs his last man under his arm just as Helena breaks Salvati's wrist and pins him to a piece of machinery, her hand around his neck.
"You're gonna burn in hell for what you've done," Salvati threatens her, gasping.
"It'll be worth it," she growls.
Oliver breaks the neck of his man, but before he can make it to Helena, she breaks Salvati's neck. He falls to the ground, dead. "Helena?" he gasps.
"I didn't have a choice, Oliver," she answers sadly. "No one can know my secret."
Oliver just gapes at her.
"Wait, that's what you said!" Spencer exclaimed. "When you killed those guys who kidnapped you and Tommy."
Oliver nodded. "Helena and I were very similar in more ways than one," he answered. "I saw myself in her. I think that's why I tried so hard to help her. The difference is she had nothing and nobody to live for. She had no one to keep her from crossing lines there were no coming back from. I did."
Constantine let the room ruminate over Oliver's words for a few moments.
That night at SCPD, Lance and Hilton are going over the case. "CSU didn't find any usable prints except for the three victims," Hilton reports, handing Lance a report. "One of them had a GSW to the chest."
"So who broke the necks of Salvati and his buddy?" Lance asks, flipping through the report.
"Look, it's been awhile since the Hood broke anyone's neck," Hilton says slowly, knowing what Lance is thinking. "And I didn't see any arrows lying around."
"We better pray that Frank Bertinelli blames the hood for this," Lance says dourly. "'Cause if he thinks it's the Triad, Starling City is ground zero to World War III."
Later that night, Tommy knocks on Laurel's door, a pained expression on his face. "You okay?" Laurel asks, leaning her head against the door.
"I spoke to my dad today," he answers.
"I bet that was fun," she says sympathetically.
Tommy slowly walks through the door, and Laurel closes it after him. "He explained to me what happened with my credit card yesterday," he continues. "And my checking account, my savings account, my brokerage account, my stock portfolio."
He sinks onto her couch. "He cut me off completely," he finishes.
Laurel sits next to him and puts a comforting hand on his knee. "What?" she gasps.
"My car got repossessed, that was fun," he adds. "Oh, and I have to move out of my apartment by the end of the month."
Laurel takes a deep breath. "You are gonna be fine, Tommy," she consoles him. "In fact, you are gonna be great, Merlyn money or not."
Tommy just looks at her, red eyes informing her that he's been crying. "And you know," Laurel continues, curling up next to him and enveloping his hand in both of hers, "I have a mushroom and olive Mario pizza in my refrigerator waiting to be eaten."
Tommy gives her a small, grateful smile. "I suppose it's already paid for, right?" he tries to joke.
"Exactly," she whispers.
At the Queen Mansion, Moira is sleeping when Walter walks in and gently caresses her face. She wakes up and looks at him as he sits down on the bed. "When did you get back?" she asks.
"Just now," he answers.
She sits up. "I'm so happy to see you," she says softly. "But did you come home only because you heard I was hurt?"
"No," he answers. "I was already on my way when Thea called. I actually came home because I miss my wife."
She kisses him, and they embrace as Oliver watches from the doorway. He nods to himself and walks away. "Is she alright?" Thea asks him as she rounds the corner.
"Walter's home," Oliver whispers, pointing towards their room.
Both Queen children smile in contentment. "She's gonna be fine," Oliver finishes.
Thea hesitates for a moment. "Look, I'm sorry if I was a b**** with you earlier," she apologizes.
Oliver is quiet for a moment. "There were a few times, could you be more specific?" he finally teases.
"Don't push it," Thea smiles.
"Don't worry," Oliver says seriously. "You weren't a b****."
He considers for a moment. "At the hospital you were a little, a little bit."
Almost everyone in the room is smiling at Oliver and Thea's relationship.
Thea laughs. "Look, I'm just worried about you," she tells him honestly. "You seem really lonely. And we all have our secrets, Ollie. Clearly you have yours. And it's fine if you don't want to share them with us, but I just really think you should share them with someone."
She kisses him on the cheek and leaves him to think about her words.
"You know, Speedy, you're a very smart person," Oliver told his sister.
"Finally! He notices!" Thea teased, giving him a genuine smile. "I love you, Ollie."
"I love you too, Speedy," Oliver answered.
Later, in Helena's room, she's just finished taking a shower and enters her room in her robe. She stops short when she sees Oliver standing there, his back turned, looking out the window. "I'd ask how you got in here, but the Starling City vigilante comes and goes as he pleases, doesn't he?"
"How'd you know?" Oliver asks, still looking out the window.
"I saw you fight," she answers, taking a step forward as he turns around and walks towards her. "And I saw your eyes. That island changed you in ways that only someone like me could understand."
"No," Oliver says firmly, taking another step forward. "What you're doing right now, I know that it feels like justice, but it's not. It's revenge."
"Sometimes, revenge is justice," Helena answers.
"Your father killed your fiance," Oliver says after a moment.
"And what did your father do to you?" Helena demands, interrupting him. "Isn't the man in the hood fighting to set things right? Why is your vendetta more valid than mine? We're the same, you and I!"
"No," Oliver answers, shaking his head. "No, we're not."
"Hiding in plain sight," Helena lists. "Concealing our anger with smiles and lies!"
They're now standing about a foot away from each other. "Don't lie to me, Oliver," Helena says, her voice breaking as tears fill her eyes. "You feel the same as I do, I know it."
"Why are you crying?" Oliver asks gently.
"I don't know," she answers. "Maybe it's because I have been alone in my hate for so long. I feel. . ."
"Feel good to tell the truth," Oliver finishes, almost gasping it out.
They stare at each other for a moment, and then, as if by mutual, wordless agreement, come together. They are kissing almost frantically, like only the other is keeping them on this side of sanity. The screen fades to black.