Hey everyone, I'm still here! Somehow, finals week is the week I finally have time to finish this chapter. It's probably not my best (which is what happens when you write a chapter in 5-10 minute increments over the course of 3 months), and I didn't even read it through once I finished because I just want to get it published, but I finished it! Hope you enjoy, and I should be able to publish chapters more quickly once my college classes end on Friday.
Also, earlier in the fic there should now be a chapter called 6B. In that chapter are the flashbacks from "Fadeout" and "What We Leave Behind," as promised.
"So you guys were a thing," Grant commented.
"Very briefly, yes," Oliver confirmed.
"Given that the next part starts right where that left off, I think we'll just get right to it," Constantine said when no more comments were forthcoming.
Oliver and Helena were both asleep in bed. Helena wakes up and attempts to leave without waking Oliver, but Oliver discretely watches her go.
In a dark alley, Helena pulls to a stop on her motorcycle, watching as China White walks to a car and opens the door to enter. She raises a gun, ready to shoot her, but Oliver lands on the roof next to her, does a backwards roll off the roof, and lands on her gun arm, stopping her just in time. The shot goes wide, alerting China White and the other Triad members, who begin shouting in Mandarin and firing towards Oliver and Helena. Oliver fires a shot into the car and drags Helena away and down an alley.
The Triad chases after them from the car, but Oliver and Helena are more maneuverable and quickly escape. As soon as they're safe, Helena shoves him. "Take your hands off me," she shouts.
"What the h*** do you think you were doing?" he shouts back, whipping off his hood.
"That man was the leader of the Triad!" she growls. "My father blames them for the recent hits against his men."
"These are men you killed," Oliver growls back.
"That's right," she agrees. "I take out Zhishan, and the Triad retaliates. I've weakened my father's organization to the point where there is no way that he can survive their onslaught."
"What, and then you'll have your revenge?" Oliver demands.
"Then I have justice," she says, her tone confused and a little betrayed. "For what he did to Michael and me."
"Wow," the D.A. said in disgust. "She does realize she's precipitating an all-out mob war, right?"
"I don't think she thought about the consequences of her actions," Oliver answered. "She was so consumed with anger, so bent on revenge, I don't think she was capable of seeing anything but the destruction of her father."
"It's not justice," Oliver denies.
"And what you do is?" Helena argues.
"Would you let me show you?" Oliver pleads.
Oliver, of course, takes her to Big Belly Burger. Carly is waiting on them and brings them their drinks. "Get you anything else?" she asks.
"No, thank you, Carly," Oliver answers.
"Where's my brother-in-law?" she demands, hands on her hips. "It's late, and this is the Glades. Shouldn't he be keeping you safe?"
Oliver looks towards Helena. "She is tougher than she looks," he answers in a teasing tone.
Carly just glares at him and leaves. "I haven't been on a second date in awhile," Oliver comments. "Feels good so far."
Helena smiles. "Look, um," she starts. "We slept together, and it was. . .really nice, and I needed it, but, um, I'm not looking for anything."
"Right, because you have everything figured out," Oliver returns.
"I don't think you're one to judge," she argues. "I saw you kill people, remember?"
"I only kill people. . .when it is absolutely necessary," Oliver hisses. "It's not my opening move."
"Really?" Larry demanded. "Because it seems to me you're killing an awful lot of people."
"You really have no idea," Oliver said after a moment. "Larry, look. There's things that I've done, that I'm sure you'll see, that I am quite frankly horrified by. And you've seen that there are times when I have killed without thought. When I first got back I was still in the frame of mind that everyone I came up against, everyone I fought, would kill me if I didn't kill them. It was kill or be killed, as simple as that. And it took me awhile to break out of that, yes. Mostly it was because of Dig and Felicity that I was able to come back from that at all. But at this point, no, it was not my opening move. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm trying to save Frank Bertinelli and the Triad, including a woman who right now. My thinking was that I had come back from the violence that had pervaded my life for so long, and now I could help her do it too."
"I'm guessing that didn't really work out for you," he commented.
"No, it didn't," Oliver answered sadly.
"And the way that you're going, you're gonna get somebody hurt, like my mother, or yourself," Oliver continues.
"I'm sorry about your mother," Helena says. "That was an accident."
"How many accidents have to happen before you're done getting back at your father?" Oliver asks pointedly.
"Hopefully none," she says. "But I am not getting back at him. I am stripping away everything that has meaning to him, just like he did to me when he had Michael killed."
"What if I could show you another way?" Oliver asks gently. "A way that you could take down your father's organization without putting innocent people at risk?"
He gives her a pleading look. She looks down at the table, then back up at him. "Thank you for the coffee," she says. "And the sex. But I am not interested."
She gathers her things and leaves.
Later, at the lair, Oliver is working out when Diggle arrives. "I don't know where the next Olympics are at, but you might wanna think about signing yourself up," he jokes. "So, you wanna talk about last night?"
Oliver is silent. "Okay," Diggle takes it in stride. "The last time you and I spoke, you were on your way to try to stop Helena Bertinelli from her one-woman war against the mafia. How'd that work out for you? Nick Salvati, Frank Bertinelli's right hand, was found with his neck snapped, along with a few of his thugs. Was that her or you?"
Oliver finally turns right side up and speaks. "I was with Helena when Salvati jumped us," he answers. "We didn't have a choice."
He heads toward the desks and Diggle follows. "'We?'" he repeats.
"She knows, Diggle," Oliver answers. "About me. It was my secret or her life."
He bypasses the desks and instead grabs the salmon ladder. "It's not just your secret anymore, Oliver," Diggle argues. "And this woman is a killer, she's been dropping bodies all over the city."
Oliver lets go of the salmon ladder bar and turns to Diggle. "She's not what you think she is," he retorts. "Three years ago she was gonna turn her father in to the FBI. She put everything she had on him on a laptop. Her father found it, thought it belonged to her fiance, and had him murdered."
He turns back to the salmon ladder. "All right, listen, that's a heavy thing, man," Diggle admits. "But it doesn't change the fact that she is dangerous. And if Bertinelli retaliates against the Triad or is perceived to, the Triad is gonna rain down hell and innocent people are gonna be killed."
Oliver pulls himself onto the bar. "She's lost, Diggle," he states. "And whether she knows it or not, I can save her. Stop her from doing anything reckless."
"That's just it," Diggle insists. "You can't save her, okay? Some people don't change."
"She can, I can help her," Oliver insists, dropping down and pulling himself back up.
"All right," Diggle concedes, walking around the salmon ladder to face Oliver. "Maybe you think you're more persuasive than you are, or maybe she thinks she's fine the way she is on her mission of righteous fury. Whatever it is, either way, all of this. . .it ends badly."
"Have you ever been wrong, Dig?" Felicity asked teasingly.
"You know I have," Diggle answered with a gentle smile.
Oliver just smiled in amusement at his team's antics.
"Either way," Oliver answers, working his way up the salmon ladder, "I gotta try."
He drops to the ground and walks away.
At the Queen mansion the next morning, Moira and Walter are walking down the stairs together. "Where are you off to so early?" Moira asks. "You just got home."
"Trouble with traveling overseas for a few weeks is that a few week's worth of paperwork is piling up on my desk," Walter answers. "I just wanna start digging my way out from underneath it."
"Of course," Moira says, sounding unconvinced.
They both make it to the foyer. Walter packs a few things into his briefcase while Moira watches him. "What is it?" he finally asks.
"We haven't spoken since you left," she answers quietly. "Really spoken."
"I know," he answers, his back still to her.
"Well, I can imagine finding out that I had Robert's yacht salvaged and that he was murdered was a lot for you to take in," she tries.
Walter finally turns to her. "Yes, it was," he agrees.
"I just don't want you to feel that you can't trust me anymore," she pleads. "I wasn't lying to. . .to hurt you, but to keep you safe. I haven't changed, Walter, I'm still the woman you fell in love with and married. Do you see that?"
"Yeah, of course I do," he answers.
He smiles and kisses her. "I just want us to agree to be honest with one another moving forward," he states.
"Of course," she agrees, and they kiss again.
"Walter!" Thea calls from upstairs. "Will you give me a lift to school? I like to, uh, mix it up sometimes and actually be on time."
She skips down the stairs. "Well, that would be my parental privilege," he answers happily.
"Or, you know, you could just buy me a convertible, and then we could avoid this," she hints, walking towards the door.
"What, and miss out on all those wonderful conversations we have in the car?" he teases as they walk out. "I don't think so."
Moira watches them go.
At the Bertinelli mansion, Helena comes down to see they have a visitor. "I'm so sorry, Frank," the woman says. "Last thing you need is me crying on your shoulder all night. I just can't believe that Nick is gone."
"Dina, look, you and Nicky, you're like family to me, okay?" he consoles her. "And in my family, we take care of our own, okay?"
He hugs her. "I'm sorry for your loss," Helena says from the bottom of the stairs. "Nick was like a brother to me."
Frank sees Dina out. "I'm gonna find the son of a b**** who did this, and on my life I am gonna make him pay," he growls to his daughter.
The doorbell rings, and Frank scoffs. "You know, that girl's always forgetting something," he mutters, opening the door again.
However, it's not Dina, but Oliver. "Frank," he greets.
"Oh," Frank says, surprised.
"Sorry to drop by unannounced," Oliver apologizes, shaking his hand.
"No, no, no," Frank insists. "Come on in, it's all right, come on in."
He closes the door after him. Helena looks at Oliver questioningly. "Um," Frank stammers, "Look, I know, uh, that we've been working on that construction deal, and I'm. . .I'm sorry for my dropping the ball. We've had a death in the family."
"I'm terribly sorry to hear that," Oliver says with his best poker face.
"Actually, though, I'm not here to discuss business," Oliver says in a meaningful tone.
Frank looks between Oliver and Helena. "Oh," he says slowly. "Okay."
He chuckles. "Well, this is, uh. . .this is one merger I won't stand in the way of. Excuse me, sweetie. A father knows when he's not needed."
He leaves, and Oliver and Helena study each other for a moment. "Was I not clear that I wasn't interested in talking?" Helena asks, coming the rest of the way down the stairs.
"You don't have to talk," Oliver answers. "You just have to listen."
He opens the door for her, and after a moment's hesitation, she grabs her coat and leaves. He takes her to a cemetery and leads her to Sara Lance's grave. "Who was she?" Helena asks.
"Somebody I knew a long time ago," Oliver answers, staring down at the gravestone. "I. . .I was dating her sister, and it was getting serious, but back then I did not do serious well. But I was excellent at screwing things up."
He stops, pressing his lips together, struggling to keep talking. "I started sleeping with Sara," he finally admits. "I started sleeping with my girlfriend's sister. I brought her on the yacht and she died. Right in front of me. And I hurt. . .I hurt her family. I just didn't care."
Helena looks at him. It's obvious that his story is affecting her. "Before the island, I wasn't a good person," he continues after a moment. "I was. . .selfish and thoughtless and awful."
Helena slowly reaches out and holds his hand. "And it affected, really affected people," he says, his voice trembling. "People I love. Because Helena," he finally looks over at her, "you're on an island too."
"Oliver, I. . ." she whispers. "I want to let you in. But Michael was the last person I opened up to. I can't be hurt again."
"Never," Oliver vows. "I'll never hurt you. I promise."
Later, Oliver and Helena are in the lair. Oliver has his quiver strapped to his back, but Helena is the one with the bow and arrow. She raises it and pulls hack the string quickly. "Ah, ah," he says quickly, grabbing her hand. "Relax. Relax, relax, relax."
He puts his hand underneath hers, tilting his head so he could help her aim. "Now, pull back gently. You need all three fingers to come off the bowstring at the same time."
He puts his other hand on her arm, lowering it a bit. "Relax," he says. "Breathe. And release."
She fires, and misses the target by a mile. He smiles and takes the bow from her. "This is a waste of time," she says, annoyed.
"I'm trying to teach you something," he answers.
"What, the least effective way to shoot people?" she asks.
"No, control," he answers calmly. "To use a bow and arrow requires patience and discipline."
He takes a step away from her and quickly fires an arrow right into the dead center of the target. She walks slowly over to a table and grabs her thermos. She sits on the table and looks at him questioningly. He raises his eyebrows and nods. She throws it up in the air, and he pins it to the ceiling. He looks back at her, a smile on his face.
He looked happier than the room had seen him in awhile. Completely relaxed and at home, as long as he was holding a bow in his hands.
Helena grabs an oil can off the table and throws that in the air. He pins that right next to the thermos. She grabs a tennis ball off the table, and instead of waiting for her to throw it he fires and shoots the ball right out of her hands and into a pipe. "I can do this all day," he says lightly. "It's kinda fun."
"Well, I love a man with stamina," she teases.
He puts the bow on the table and sits down next to her. "Our crusades have something in common," he says. "Mine started with my father too."
He pulls the book out of a pocket in his cargo pants and opens it. "He left me with a list of people who need to be reminded that Starling City isn't theirs for the taking."
He hands it to her and she flips through it. "Anthony Venza's in here," she says after a moment. "He works for my dad, he. . .he deals illegal prescription pills."
Diggle walks in at that moment. "Diggle, this is Helena," Oliver introduces. "Diggle is my. . .uh. . .associate."
"Well, any associate of Oliver's. . ."
"Is absolutely nothing to you, ma'am," Diggle interrupts her.
There is an awkward silence. "I'll leave you to associate," Helena says after a moment.
She leaves. "She knows my name," Diggle says once she's gone. "That's lovely."
"You can trust her," Oliver says.
"Except I don't," he returns. "You sleeping with this girl, Oliver?"
"Well, I don't think that's any of your business, Diggle," he says, still using that lighter tone.
"It became my business when you brought me into this," Diggle retorts. "When I signed on, I told you I was gonna keep your head straight. But Oliver, you're lonely. Lonelier than you wanna admit. And that's why you think you can change this girl, because you need to think you can. You're like a dope fiend who thinks he can deal with his own addiction by making another addict go straight."
"Wow," Curtis commented.
"I'm delighted that you think so much of me, Dig," Oliver joked.
Diggle laughed.
"Oliver, what you do is dangerous," Diggle continues. "And getting yourself confused about who's good and who's bad is a good way to get yourself dead."
Oliver nods. "You done?" he asks.
"Yeah, I'm done," Diggle nods. "With this. Everything else, I don't know. I don't know, Oliver, you tell me."
He walks away, Oliver staring after him, rotating the book in his hands.
At CNRI, Tommy walks in, a smile on his face. "I hope you don't have plans tomorrow night," he says to Laurel from behind her. "Because I just got us a rez at that new restaurant, Table Salt. Opening night."
"Isn't that place ridiculously expensive?" she asks in concern.
"Everywhere worth going is," he answers.
She takes a sip of her coffee. "Ah, you have the cutest wrinkle on your forehead when you're worried," he proclaims.
"Oh, Tommy stop," she says, grabbing his hand. "This is serious. I thought you were gonna live more frugally."
"Yeah, yeah, I know, everybody's a grown-up except for me," he says. "Even Oliver has a job, he's working on that new nightclub."
He looks over at her. "Okay, you have thinky face, why do you have thinky face?" he asks, suddenly worried.
"Have you ever thought about asking Oliver for a job?" she asks.
"Not even once," he answers immediately.
"This isn't a quality that I love most about you, but you do know the club scene and how to have fun," she hints.
"You make some very valid points," he admits. "I'll take care of it. I'll talk to Ollie later. We'll see what he thinks."
"He is gonna think it is a great idea," she says happily, leaning in for a kiss.
That night at Queen Consolidated, Felicity walks in to Walter's office. "How was your trip to Australia?" she asks. "I've always wanted to go down under. It's just. . .I have this thing about kangaroos. More of a phobia. They wig me out, they look evil, and I'm sure their picture is up on like, everything, everywhere, in that country."
Walter patiently waits her out. "You had something important to tell me, Miss Smoak?" he prompts.
"Yes, I did," she states. "It's about Tempest, your wife's mysterious LLC, the one she diverted company funds to."
"I appreciate you diligence on this," he says slowly, not making eye contact, "but, uh, it was a simple misunderstanding between my wife and I. Everything's been resolved."
"No," Felicity contradicts. "See, it hasn't. There was something about the money transfer that felt hinky to me. The money your wife withdrew from the company, I wasn't the only one who tracked it. She was being shadowed by another entity, and whoever it is, they're good. NSA good. But, as you know, I'm good too, so even though they left almost no trace of their presence in our system, I did manage to find one thing."
She holds out a piece of paper. "Well, one image," she corrects herself.
Walter looks at the paper, but makes no move to take it. "Does that symbol mean something to you, sir?" Felicity asks tentatively.
He stares at her for a moment. "No," he finally says quickly, taking the paper, standing, and walking around the desk in one fluid motion. "What means something to me is one of my employees prying into my wife's private business without authorization. And should it happen again, I'll have you suspended. Is that clear?"
Felicity nods, her chin jutting out in defiance. "Crystal," she says shortly, and she leaves.
Walter watches her go, then looks back at the image.
"That's the same image in your dad's book," the DA commented.
Oliver simply nodded.
At the lair, Helena enters. "Where's your friend?" she asks.
"Just the two of us tonight," Oliver answers.
"Oh, really?" she teases. "And what did you have in mind?"
"An object lesson," he answers as she finally makes it to him, standing in the middle of the room.
"We're going after Anthony Venza?" she guesses.
"Yes," he says, "but we're doing it on my terms. Your father loses a piece of his organization, but no innocent people get hurt in the process."
He nods towards a box on the desk. "What is it?" Helena asks.
"I explained to you that guns were weapons of emotion and unpredictability, but since you are far from an expert at archery, this will have to do for now," he answers.
He taps the box, and she opens it. It's a small crossbow. "I like it," she says after a moment.
"But you can't go out like that," he whispers in her ear and walks over to the computer.
"Why, you got a spare hood?" she asks, following him.
They lean over the computer together. She smiles. "Does it come in purple?"
Oliver taps a key on the computer, and her smile grows wider. "I like purple," she says, sounding almost childish.
Elsewhere in the city, Venza is closing a deal. "This isn't crack," he is saying. "Anyone can sell crack. All you need is a street corner and a hoodie. This is pharmaceutical-grade oxycodone. It is caviar. It is champagne. And you sell this in fancy houses at parties with rich kids that got money to burn."
"And you're a creep," Barry commented. "Ollie, where does your city pick up these guys?"
"You're the one that lives in a city where every other bank robber and car thief also happens to be a dangerous metahuman that usually wipes the floor with you so badly that Caitlin has to patch you up," Oliver shot back.
"Usually?" Barry asked, pretending to be angry. "Do you have any idea how many times a day I get interrupted to go and stop this robbery or that car thief? Just because once every couple of weeks, out of the hundreds of criminals I deal with every week, one of them manages to get the drop on me. . .you know, Felicity told me about the time she had to sew up your back because you insisted on climbing up a booby-trapped elevator shaft. At least I'm not reckless."
Oliver chuckled. "Barry, I have one word for you," he said. "Flashpoint."
Barry opened his mouth to say something, then shut it again. "Fair enough," he muttered.
Kara just shook her head, closing her eyes and chuckling to herself.
Suddenly, the lights go out. "Check it out!" Venza orders his men.
They spread out, and as soon as they're out of sight, all Venza and his customers hear is punching and groans. One of their guns lands at Venza's feet. He picks it up. "Whoever you are, you really think you're gonna get out of here in one piece?" he shouts.
"I was thinking the same thing," Oliver growls back. "Anthony Venza."
"You have failed this city," Helena finishes.
Oliver fires an explosive arrow, the bang disorienting Venza and the other men. He and Helena jump down and easily take them all out. Venza runs for the door, but Helena fires an arrow into the doorknob. "Please," Venza says, turning around, "just don't hurt me."
"Aw," Helena croons, advancing towards him, crossbow raised. "How about just a little?"
"Later, the police have arrived and are arresting everyone as Oliver and Helena watch from a nearby rooftop. "Millions of dollars worth of illegal drugs confiscated, a massive blow to your father's criminal proceeds, and nobody had to die," Oliver says to her. "Justice. What do you think?"
"I think. . ." Helena considers her words. "This feels good. And not just the justice part."
They kiss.
At the Bertinelli mansion, Frank is watching the news report of Venza's arrest from his bar when Helena walks in. He angrily throws his glass on the floor, breaking it. "Bad year?" she asks. "The scotch, I mean."
"Yeah, sorry," he says, kissing her hand. "Another business setback."
He takes her in. "Wow," he breathes. "You look beautiful. Oliver Queen?"
She tilts her head. He chuckles. "Aw," he says, cupping her cheek. "It's nice to see you happy again. It's been too long."
"Well, maybe if you hadn't had her fiance killed in the first place," Beth hissed angrily.
Benji looked at her, mildly surprised at her anger.
His phone rings, and he answers it and listens for a moment before turning away from Helena and becoming completely serious. "Yeah, yeah, I heard about Venza," he says. "Yeah, I know where that leaves us!"
Helena leaves, a satisfied smile on her face.
At the Queen mansion, Moira is putting on earrings. "I'm sorry to rush out, I have this impromptu board of directors meeting with the Starling City Modern Art Museum," she explains to Walter.
He isn't listening, but instead looking at the picture of the symbol under the guise of flipping through a book. "I don't know much about art, but I do know how to pay for it," she continues, turning to face him.
He closes the book. "No worries," he says, kissing her. "Whip them into shape."
"Yes sir," she says, leaving with a smile. "I'll see you when I get back."
As soon as she's gone, Walter starts snooping around her things in their bedroom. He picks up a photo of the two of them, studying it. Something in the grandfather clock across the room catches his eye. He opens it and finds a box hidden inside, with the symbol on the top. He opens the box to find a little book, identical to Oliver's, with the symbol inside the front cover.
Meanwhile, Tommy and Laurel are standing in a very, very long line to be seated at Table Salt. "Well, it's only been 30 minutes," Tommy says, looking at his watch. "That's, uh, not too bad for an opening."
"If they don't seat us soon I am going to write a horrible review online," Laurel groans in response.
"Lemme see what I can do," Tommy says after a moment.
He makes his way through the crowd and finds a waitress. "Hey, I am loving the Cavalli," he says, playboy persona in full operation. "Uh, look, I'm Tommy Merlyn. Is there any way that we can go to the head of the class?"
"Is there?" she prompts, one eyebrow raised.
"Ah," Tommy mutters, pulling out his wallet and realizing just how thin it is. "Let us know when our table's ready, okay?"
He slowly makes his way back to Laurel. "Maybe you can eat some of those fancy peanuts from behind the bar," he suggests apologetically.
"Hey!" Oliver's voice suddenly calls as he and Helena approach.
The four of them stare at each other awkwardly for a moment. "Hey, Oliver and someone," Tommy finally says.
"Tommy, Laurel, this is Helena," Oliver hurriedly introduces.
"Nice to meet you," she says, shaking hands with a smile. Tommy and Laurel return the greeting politely, but stiffly.
"You look beautiful," Oliver compliments Laurel.
"Thank you," she says kindly.
The same woman Tommy was planning to buy off approaches them. "Mr. Queen, your table is ready," she says politely.
"When is our table gonna be ready?" Laurel asks, a hint of lawyer in her voice.
"When it is," the woman returns.
"Why don't you both join us?" Helena suggests.
"No, no, no," Tommy says quickly as Oliver shakes his head just as quickly, "we're just gonna have a drink and. . ."
"We'd love to," Laurel interrupts.
"Are you sure?" Tommy asks.
Oliver grimaces. "I'm sure I'm hungry," Laurel returns.
Oliver, momentarily speechless, holds up four fingers to the woman. "That. . ." he chokes out, clearing his throat. "That's. . . That'll be. . . It'll be great. That sounds great."
"Yeah," Tommy mutters.
"There you go," Oliver says, handing the woman the money.
The two couples followed her to their table.
"So, this isn't gonna end well," Jackson hummed.
"Uh, no," Oliver confirmed. "No, it's not."
A bit later, they are settled at their table, and Oliver and Tommy are midway through a story about their younger days. "I had forgotten that, you filled your parents' pool with beer," Oliver laughs. "How many kegs did that take?"
"Roughly a thousand or so," Tommy chuckles.
"So his father was so p***** I thought he was actually gonna drown you in it," Oliver continues.
"Yeah, well, death by beer, there's worse ways to go," Tommy jokes. "Right, Helena?"
"Well, there're no good ways to die," she mutters. "So, uh, how did you and Tommy meet?" she asks Laurel.
"Actually, we've all known each other since. . ." Laurel starts.
"We've all known each other forever," Oliver finishes.
"You three have a lot of history," Helena observes.
"Sometimes a little too much," Tommy tries to joke.
"So, how's the nightclub coming along?" Laurel asks Oliver, trying to change the subject.
"Slower than I expected it to," Oliver answers. "I've, uh, been busy."
"Well, then you must be happy to have the extra help then," Laurel continues.
"What do you mean?" Oliver asks, confused.
"Laurel, I'm sure that Oliver doesn't want to talk about work right now," Tommy says quickly.
"You didn't ask him?" Laurel asks, seeing right through him.
"Ask him what?" Oliver stage-whispers.
"Tommy wanted. . ." Laurel starts. "Tommy said he was gonna talk to you about working for you at your nightclub."
Tommy rests his head on his fists, his eyes filling with tears. Oliver, however, is oblivious and laughs. "Really?" he asks. "Sorry, I didn't think that you wanted any responsibility at all."
"Oh, yeah," Tommy says sarcastically. "Who'd believe that?"
"You've always wanted to get into business with Tommy," Laurel tries to play peacemaker. "I mean, don't you remember when we went to Aspen and you wanted to open a ski lodge?"
"The only thing that I remember from Aspen was your father being furious we shared a room with one bed," Oliver answers.
"Oh, come on, man!" Benji exclaimed. "Can't you see you're just digging a deeper hole for yourself?"
"I can now," Oliver said in an obvious tone. "But then, I was. . .No, I was just. . . I was too unaccustomed to anything. . . remotely resembling date etiquette. And no, I didn't pick up on Tommy's discomfort, or Helena's. I didn't understand emotion anymore, or how to read it besides reading whether or not the thug in front of me was gonna attack or run away. I just. . . didn't."
The room sat in silence for a moment.
Laurel laughs, embarrassed. "Wait, um," Helena says slowly, "so. . .you two were together. . .and. . ." she turns to Laurel, "and now you're dating his best friend?"
"Yeah, we're just prime for a reality show, aren't we," Tommy jokes, trying to lighten the mood.
Helena downs her drink, looking very uncomfortable. "Tommy, you working for me, that-that could be. . .fun," Oliver says, trying to salvage the situation.
"I don't feel so good, I'm gonna step outside," Tommy mutters, getting up and leaving.
"I should probably go check on him," Laurel says after a moment. "Helena, it was very nice to meet you."
She leaves with a sympathetic smile towards Oliver and chases after Tommy. "Tommy, why are you so upset?" she insists.
"Why did you have to say something to Oliver about the job?" Tommy asks angrily, still striding quickly through the restaurant towards the door.
"You were supposed to talk to him!" she protests.
"Well, I hadn't," he retorts.
"Okay, I didn't realize," she says, getting angry herself. "I was only trying to help."
Tommy skids to a stop and whirls to face her. "No, you were trying to get Oliver to help," he says. "It's typical Laurel, always running to a white knight." he grimaces. "It's Oliver and Laurel. It always has been. That's not gonna change."
"Oliver and I are over," she says, aghast.
"Oh, really?" he retorts. "Because you seemed awfully bothered by his new girlfriend."
"What, am I supposed to like her?" she asks angrily.
"I do not want to be Oliver's charity case, okay?" Tommy says through gritted teeth. "To every day be reminded that I can't give you everything he could? You know, losing a fortune I think is gonna be easier than losing you, so why don't we just stop now?"
He turns and leaves without another word, Laurel staring after him, completely aghast.
Meanwhile, Oliver isn't having a much better time with Helena. "Hey, I'm sorry," he calls after her as she walks out of the restaurant in a huff. "How am I supposed to know it's gonna get so weird in there?"
"No, I'm sorry," she says angrily. "Sorry I ever listened to you."
"Helena, what. . ." Oliver says, still confused.
"You know what I've been through," she continues. "I told you I couldn't be hurt again."
"I'm not trying to hurt you," Oliver says calmly.
"So, making me have dinner with the love of your life is what, Oliver?" she demands. "Laurel was the girl things were getting too serious with, the girl whose sister's grave you used to manipulate me. I saw the way you looked at her. That kind of love doesn't die. You still love her."
"I don't," Oliver denies.
She scoffs and whirls away from him. "Hey. . ." Oliver says, grabbing her arm.
"No," she says angrily. "You. . .don't. Don't touch me. I am done talking."
She walks away from him, and Oliver lets her go, only the grimace on his face betraying his inner turmoil as he turns and walks in the opposite direction.
"Yeah, that's what I was afraid of," Benji muttered.
Later that night, Laurel opens the door to her apartment, in her pajamas, to find Tommy standing there. "I came to apologize," he says, looking pitifully sad.
Laurel walks away without another word, but leaves the door open, and he comes in, a 'I am doomed' look on his face. "I know you were just trying to help," he continues. "I guess I wasn't ready to face reality. This is just so new, you and me, and I didn't want you to see. . . I'm scared. I'm almost 30 years old and I've never been given an ounce of responsibility in my life. You, you are driven and intelligent. You're a million times too good for me even before I was broke. And now I have absolutely nothing to bring to whatever this is."
Laurel's face softens. "I never cared about the money," she tells him gently. "And truth be told, 'billionaire' was your least attractive quality. I am so sorry if I pushed you too hard on the job with Oliver. I just. . .I thought you working with him was a good idea because he's your friend. And it's okay to ask a friend for help. You won't lose your street cred."
"I'm happy to lose my street cred," he answers softly. "I just don't want to lose you."
Laurel slowly grabs on to his jacket lapel. "Well, I'm not saying that it's gonna be easy," she says, putting her arms on his shoulders, "but I'm here for you if you need someone to lean on. That's what people do when they're together."
"Together, like, boyfriend-girlfriend?" Tommy asks, pushing his luck.
Laurel groans. "Do not ruin this moment," she orders. "It was going so well for you."
She laughs and they kiss.
Meanwhile, in the lair, Oliver is sitting at his desk, brooding.
"Of course you're sitting there brooding instead of actually doing something useful with yourself," Felicity said, throwing up her hands in exasperation.
"Felicity. . ." Oliver tried.
"No excuses," she ordered, and his mouth shut immediately.
Multiple people around the room tried and failed to hold in their laughter at their exchange. Oliver and Felicity's relationship was still a mystery to many of them. The heroes, on the other hand, simply smiled, happy that after everything they'd been through and everything they're currently dealing with, they still had a great relationship.
Behind him, Diggle walks in. "Didn't expect to hear from you tonight," he greets. "Something happen?"
"I think you were right," Oliver says after a moment.
"Okay," Diggle says slowly, reading Oliver's mood somewhat. "About which part?"
"All of it," Oliver admits. "I should have listened to you."
Diggle takes in his words for a moment, walking around to face him. "Oliver, you said you wanted to help her change," he began. "The thing is, she already did change. When her father killed her fiance, she changed into something dark and twisted. You see that now, don't you?"
"It's not that I. . ." Oliver starts loudly, before stopping himself and leveling his tone. "It's not that I couldn't see it, Diggle, I didn't. . .I didn't want to. I'm living a double life, and to do that I am taking all these people that I love and I am putting them at arm's length. I'm giving up a lot, so maybe. . .maybe I thought the universe owed me one. But I looked in her eyes tonight and I can't stop her from going over the edge. She's. . .she's already past it."
"Wow," Clay said. "So Helena. . .all of that. . ."
He stopped, speechless.
"I have a question," Ann said softly after a moment. "You said that you looked in her eyes and saw she was over the edge. But what did you see, exactly?"
Oliver sighed, taking time to think through his answer. "I saw cold," he finally said. "I've been in the company of a lot of people in my life. Some who are good, kind, generous, like my wife. Others, like my mother, who do terrible things but do them for good reasons. But I also have interacted with more cold blooded killers than I'd like, and there's a certain. . .hardness that comes with taking a life. It's not. . .It's not an easy thing to do, it's. . .well I suppose maybe it's easy at the time, depending on the circumstances, but afterward. . ."
He trailed off, shaking his head. "I remember every person I killed," he choked out. "I remember the moment the life left their eyes. I remember watching that same light leave the eyes of my friends, my family. And I remember the looks in the eyes of the people who took their lives. It's a look I've seen in my own eyes. And that's what I saw in Helena's eyes. I knew she had killed, but I thought maybe. . .see, she was. . .she reminded me of myself. And I. . .I've done things that keep me up at night. I wasn't sure if I would be able to come back from them, but I thought maybe. . .if I could bring her back, maybe that meant I could come back too."
Constantine let them think over his words for a moment before continuing.
Elsewhere in the city, four members of the triad are playing cards when one of their phones rings. Then another, and another, and another. One man answers.
"What is it," Oliver translated, his voice still shaking slightly.
A frantic voice sounds over the phone.
"Get out of there," Oliver translated again.
However, the warning comes too late, as Helena kicks the door open and starts shooting, using the suit and crossbow Oliver gave her. She quickly takes care of three of the men. The fourth still sits motionless at the table, where she quickly turns to him. He speaks to her in Chinese.
"When you seek vengeance, dig two graves; one for your enemy, and one for yourself," Oliver translated.
"I don't speak Chinese, so I'm just gonna assume you said good-bye," Helena says cockily.
She lifts her hands, revealing a gun in each one, and shoots him in the chest with both. He and his chair fall backwards and he hits the floor, dead. One of the other men is groaning on the floor, and she crouches next to him. "Tell your mistress Frank Bertinelli sends his regards," she says coldly, and walks out.
At Queen Consolidated, Felicity timidly walks in to Walter's office. "Um, you wanted to see me, Mr. Steele?" she asks quietly. "Uh, did I mention, it's almost Christmas and many of the suicides this time of year are due to sudden and unexpected joblessness?"
"Wait, really?" Edward asked, surprised.
Oliver shrugged. "No, yeah, yeah, it's a. . .thing," Felicity answered, glaring at Oliver for his lack of support.
Walter just sighs and pushes the book he found across the desk to her. "I want you to find out all you can about that notebook," he says. "Where it was made, how it was purchased, and what it could mean."
"Yes sir," Felicity acknowledges, picking it up.
"Felicity," he says seriously, "I asked Josiah Hudson, our head of security, to look into the same subject matter. He died the next day under questionable circumstances. What I may be asking of you, this mystery. . .are you sure you want to do this?"
"I hate mysteries," Felicity says simply. "They bug me. They need to be solved."
She gives him a slight nod and leaves.
Oliver has found the site of Helena's slaughter. He slowly walks among the bodies and crouches down next to the last one, the one Helena shot at the table. He pulls out his phone and calls Diggle.
"It's Dig," Diggle answers after a moment. "What's the situation?"
"War," Oliver answers darkly.
At the Bertinelli mansion, Frank is sitting at his bar on the phone. "Boss, we just got word, somebody hit Zhishan," the man on the other end is saying. "He's dead."
"All right," Frank says after a moment. "Then we know what's coming next. Tell everyone to strap up."
Outside the mansion, his guards are being taken out by the Triad. China White sneaks up behind a man and slits his throat, snapping a command to her men.
"Leave no one alive," Oliver translated.
The Triad quickly make it into the mansion, but Oliver is waiting for them at the top of the stairs and starts taking them out. In the bar, Frank hears the fight and takes the incriminating computer out of a safe. Elsewhere, China White is still killing his men one by one. Frank locks the computer in a briefcase and makes a run for it. China White makes it to him just as he is leaving the bar. "Frank Bertinelli, this is for Zhishan," she growls, about to kill him.
However, Oliver shoots the knife out of her hand. She whirls around just in time for Oliver to shoot her in the leg. She collapses, and Oliver takes aim at Frank, who aims his gun at him. However, their standoff is interrupted by gunfire in the hallway. "Run!" Oliver commands Frank, whirling around to handle the other men instead.
Frank fights his way out of the mansion, but Helena catches up to him outside and fires a bolt into his leg. He collapses to the ground with a cry. He turns and sees her. "Helena, what is this?" he asks through his pain.
"Payback for Michael," she answers breathlessly. "I know you had him killed. Salvati told me."
"I did that to protect the family!" Frank shouts.
"I had to take everything away from you, because you took everything away from me," she continues. "You finally know what it feels like to find out your own blood is responsible for the death of your entire world."
She is about to pull the trigger, but Oliver makes it there just in time and shoots the crossbow out of her hands. She whirls around and marches towards him angrily. Once they are face to face, they stare at each other for a moment before Helena shakes her head and tries to kick him. He quickly dodges and takes her down in one move. She tries to throw him but ends up knocking them both to the ground. She lands a few blows on Oliver and he falls.
"Wait, didn't you just take her down in one move?" Grant asked, confused. "How is she suddenly landing all these blows on you?"
"I didn't want to hurt her," Oliver answered. "I wasn't trying to land any blows, just fend her off. She was a good enough fighter that I couldn't only be on the defensive without taking some hits."
As they fight, Frank crawls over to Helena's crossbow and takes aim at his own daughter. "No!" Oliver screams, bolting for him, but he is too late, and Frank shoots Helena in the shoulder.
She falls to the ground and Oliver punches Frank in the head, knocking him unconscious. "Helena?" he gasps out, turning to her.
He runs over and picks her up, getting her out of there as the cops arrive. By the time they make it to Frank, there's no sign of Oliver or Helena, just an unconscious Frank lying next to a briefcase filled with evidence against him.
At the lair, Oliver has taken an unconscious Helena back and cared for her wound. As she gasps awake, he is quick to stop her from leaping off the table. "Helena, easy, easy," he says soothingly. "You were lucky."
"Am I supposed to be grateful?" she growls.
"No, Helena," he starts.
"He's a monster," she interrupts him. "A criminal. Why would you save him?"
"I didn't save him," Oliver answers. "I saved you. You think that because you've killed you understand what it's like to have blood on your hands. You don't understand. You don't understand the toll that it takes on you, especially when it's your father."
"I'm not going to stop," she says, ignoring him.
"The police have him in custody," he informs her. "He's going to jail and then on to prison."
"They don't have any evidence on him!" she argues.
"They do now," he responds calmly.
"The laptop," she realizes.
"He's going away, Helena. For the rest of his life. This is justice."
"Then I guess you were right," she says, getting up and making her way to the stairs. "I'm more interested in revenge. Stay out of my way, Oliver, or I'll make sure your secret doesn't stay a secret."
Oliver follows her as she climbs the stairs. "Helena," he tries from the bottom. "What I did. . .everything that I've done I've done because I care about you."
"Too bad I can't say the same," she answers coldly, and leaves.
Oliver watches her go, a blank expression on his face.
"Oof," Barry muttered and was quickly on the receiving end of a glare from both Oliver and Felicity.
Later that night, Diggle walks over to Carly at Big Belly Burger. "Hey you," he greets her. "Thanks for the call."
"What are ex-sisters-in-law for?" she jokes.
He "Mmm"s in agreement and walks over to Oliver, sitting alone in a booth. "Chili cheese fries with jalapeños," he analyzes Oliver's choice of food, stealing his drink and taking a large swig. "That's a cry for help if I've ever seen one."
He sits down in the booth as Oliver groans. "I don't know what hurts worse, this or getting shot with a curare-laced bullet," he says.
"Been there, done that, definitely the bullet," Dig casts his vote.
Oliver tries to force a laugh at his joke but just ends up groaning again. "You know Oliver," Diggle starts, "I'm no expert at this, but. . .I don't think love is about changing or saving a person. I think it's about finding the person who's already the right fit."
He glances over at Carly, who flashes him a smile. "One day you will," he finishes.
The occupants in the courtroom do not miss the loving look Oliver and Felicity share, or the way they entwine their fingers together as Oliver uses his other hand to pull William closer to him.
"I think I burnt that particular bridge," Oliver says, laughing in a very sad way. "Napalmed it, actually."
"So things didn't work out exactly as you planned," Diggle says. "You did save Frank Bertinelli's life. He'll be doing time for awhile. Justice wins out."
Oliver nods, raising his eyebrows, still with his gaze fixed on the table. "Helena," he starts, then lowers his voice to a whisper, "doesn't see it that way."
Diggle shrugs. "You opened up, took a risk with your heart," he tells him. "The Oliver I met a few months ago would not have been able to do that. And when you meet the right person, you'll be ready for her."
Once again, Oliver and Felicity exchanged a loving look. Most of the courtroom smiled as they saw it. Barry grinned at Kara and Constantine – their plan was working, at least for the moment.
After a moment, Oliver shoves his basket of fries towards Diggle. Diggle goes to grab one, hesitates, then takes his water again instead. They both laugh.
At Queen Consolidated, Felicity enters Walter's office and turns off the lights without a word. Walter looks up at her in surprise from his desk. "What are you doing?" he asks.
"It needs to be dark in here if we're gonna do this," she answers, then stops abruptly. "If I had had more time to think of that sentence it wouldn't have sounded so dirty. Look."
She hands him the notebook. He opens it and flips through, but nothing's changed. "I don't see anything," he says dryly.
"I got these from Applied Sciences," she says, handing him a pair of fancy-looking glasses. "They're able to pick up the sub-visible variations in the UV spectrum."
He puts the glasses on and looks at the pages again. Now, all the names are there, just like in Oliver's book, written in the same handwriting.
At the mansion, Oliver is staring gloomily out the sitting-room window into the dark. It's raining. Behind him, Raisa shows Tommy into the room and Oliver slowly turns around. "Hi," he greets him.
"Now, look," Tommy says with no preamble, making up the distance between them, "I'm sorry about last night."
"It just. . ." Oliver starts. "I let it get too far. Sitting at the same table, that was. . .that was stupid."
"No, I was stupid," Tommy contradicts. "I. . .haven't been entirely honest with you. My dad cut me off. He froze all my funds. I am. . .I am living on fumes."
Oliver raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Really?" he questions, then realizes how that sounds. "Why didn't you say anything?" he questions instead.
"Embarrassment, shame jealousy," Tommy lists off. "Probably a few other emotions I'm not used to feeling."
"Tommy, my trust fund is your trust fund," Oliver offers.
"No," Tommy says, sounding like he's fighting to get that one little word out. "That isthe easy answer, and believe me, I have loved easy answers. What I need is a job."
Oliver focuses not on Tommy's face but his shoulder, looking like he's still computing that statement. "I'm trying to change," Tommy continues. "Not sure into what, yet, but I don't want to be what I was anymore."
"It just so happens that I have a general manager position that is. . .available," Oliver says after a moment. "You're. . .probably. . .the guy for the job."
"Will I be getting dental?" Tommy jokes. "This smile wasn't cheap."
"I will look into that," Oliver plays along.
"Thank you," Tommy finishes out the joke before laughing and going in for a hug. Oliver accepts it with a smile. "Thank you," Tommy repeats more seriously.
"You're welcome," Oliver answers.
They pull back and Tommy studies him for a moment. "You okay?" he asks.
"I will be," Oliver answers.
"Something happen with Helena?" Tommy intuits.
"We had a falling out," Oliver answers. "But. . .I have a feeling that I will be seeing her again."
Outside the city, Helena rides away from the city on a motorcycle.
The screen goes black.