Chile

"Oh, please, tell me you have something," Felicity pleaded in her headset microphone.

"Sorry, A.R.G.U.S. has nothing. Lyla said she'll put some feelers out, but for now they're in the dark," Diggle replied. "You really haven't found anything?"

"No," Felicity sighed. "It's ridiculous how easy it is to find criminals and when you actually need to find someone to help them, it's… impossible. That is, I hope that Laurel doesn't actually need help," she stuttered a little. "Maybe she's fine. Somewhere. For the past day. Nearly 24 hours. She must be alright. God, I hope so."

There was a moment of silence on the other end as Diggle got into his car, "How's Oliver?"

"You know Oliver," Felicity muttered under her breath, she was still annoyed with him.

"What?" Diggle hadn't heard what she said.

"I mean, he's… Not good. He's pacing and killing my equipment, and after I gave him a piece of my mind he ran off. But Sara went with him. So… You know," she trailed off. She certainly hoped that they hadn't gone off for an adult edition of stress relief activity. Not that it was any of her business, but it would certainly be in very poor taste. She winced at the thought. To be honest, it was hard to connect the Oliver she knew – the Arrow who fought criminals, who saved people… who was a hero with Oliver who seemed to fall in with every vaguely skirt-dressed pothole along the way.

"Ugh," she winced at the mental image. She firmly repeated that it was none of her business. If only she hadn't half-way given her heart away to him already… It was hard to see how little such things seemed to mean to him – all intense in the moment, and then off with... Sara or Helena, or whoever. It was an impossible competition. And then there was Laurel. Felicity took a determined breath and promised to reward herself with a couture dress if she managed to not think about Oliver that way for a whole month.

"I'll be there in half-hour," Diggle said and Felicity nearly jumped out of her skin. She had forgotten that he was still on the line.

"Roger that," she promptly responded, her back straight as a ruler. "That is, copy that. Uh, I heard you. You know what I mean."

"See you in half-hour, Felicity."

"Bye!" she said with more cheerfulness and energy than she felt. And then she made sure that the call really disconnected before sagging back down in her chair.

IKYWT

Laurel tried not to stare at Thea. Because Thea was definitely staring at her. She desperately wanted to be busy with something, but even as she stared at the half of a croissant left on her plate and the few sips of coffee left in the cup – she knew she couldn't swallow any of it. Truth be told, she couldn't bring herself to open her mouth at all. It was as if her lips were sewn together.

See, I'm fine? It was just three words. It should be easy to say them. But Laurel couldn't even look Thea straight in the eyes. It shouldn't be awkward, but it was. The air was heavy between them with tension and expectation, and Laurel didn't know how to break it. This was why she hadn't wanted to see anyone. To talk to anyone. How was she supposed to… pretend?

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry, beat her chest and tear her own hair out until everyone understood how much everything hurt. But at the same time she didn't want anyone's pity or advice or ignorance. She couldn't deal with herself much less with others. So there she was. Stuck between wanting to tell everything and pretending that nothing was wrong.

She realized that she had been right the previous night – everything did seem different now. At least it was getting darker outside by the minute. Night came quickly in fall. For some reason Laurel was sure that it was written on her face – what she thought, what she did, what happened – and darkness seemed to provide at least some cover for that.

"What happened?" Thea finally asked. Gently. As sudden as her words seemed after a prolonged silence, they were quiet and soft.

"I don't want to talk about it," Laurel finally looked at her. It was the truth. Just like the fact that on the inside she was screaming. It was a strange feeling – more dissociative than hysterical. She felt like she was in three places at once – the calm Laurel that sat in her seat and plainly stated her wishes. The broken one – crying, screaming on the inside, all loud and wet with tears that she hadn't cried yet at all. And Laurel that she didn't know yet, that observed the situation and the strange interplay between the two warring sides of herself. She couldn't decide which one she was.

"Ok," after a moment Thea empathetically agreed, "Are you OK?"

"I'm fine," it was her back up answer for everything. She swallowed to ease the dryness in her throat. She knew she couldn't go back to saying that same thing over and over again, knowing that it was always a lie. It didn't matter if people asking her the question cared about her answer. It was about her. It was time for her to care. Laurel clutched her tea cup harder. She had no words. Not the right ones.

"Hey, hey," Thea reached across table and her hands were warm when they enveloped Laurel's trembling fingers. "It's going to be OK. I promise," she assured in an earnest, heartfelt way that made Laurel believe her at least a little.

"I need to go away," she finally managed to force out. She wasn't sure where the words came from, but she recognized them as true. She couldn't go to same old places, meet same old people and deal with the same old issues. She would end up on the same damn bridge. She realized she knew it in her bones.

Thea was endlessly patient. She wasn't usually, not by nature. And she also wasn't very tolerant of lies and Laurel had fumbled her way through a few during their short conversation, but Thea was also smart, and her heart was in the right place. Had always been. She saw through the image that Laurel tried to project to the core. She might not know the details – but she knew something wasn't right. Just like she'd known to worry when Laurel didn't pick up her phone.

Thing is – nobody told Thea anything. Ever. She had no idea about the secrets her father had put on her brother's shoulders. She had no idea what a tangled web her parentage actually was. She even had no idea that Oliver had went to Lance family dinner last night. Or that he was back together with Sara. He certainly hadn't told her. She just knew that Laurel was supposed to be mending her relationship with her family and then everything had fallen apart. And that second part was intuitive guesswork. But if anyone knew how hard it sometimes was to forgive your own family – it was Thea. So she was endlessly patient even when that really wasn't a strength of hers. "I understand," she definitely knew how it felt to want to run away and never look back. "Do you have an idea where?"

Laurel froze. "No," she admitted.

"Ok, then," Thea patted her hands, all warmed up and let go. A problem meant that it needed a solution. Solution required a plan and Thea – the one who had pulled herself together with Laurel's help and learned to run a nightclub while her brother partied across Europe, as far as she knew, anyhow – that Thea certainly could come up with a plan, and a solution, and help her friend. "Don't worry about any of it. I'll make the arrangements."

"No, Thea, I couldn't…" Laurel protested. "You couldn't. You have the Verdant to take care of…" after feeling like everyone on the planet had abandoned her or chosen the better version – her sister -, it was staggering to hear Thea now. Laurel felt like she was a burden requiring extraordinary effort and dedication that she wasn't worthy of.

"Don't be stupid," Thea frowned. Her patience frayed. But she softened barely a moment later, "Listen. I care about you. You're my friend. Now stop being stupid – I'm not letting you disappear on me. If away is what you want – I say vacation," she insisted. "I'm my own boss. I can certainly afford it. And I won't take no for an answer."

It was too much. Too soon. Laurel didn't know how to deal with it. Thea was offering like it was just any old, girlfriend, spa weekend, but Laurel…She didn't know fun anymore. She wasn't sure what she knew and she hadn't had nearly enough time to figure it out. And yet Thea was here – forceful and gentle at the same time, prodding, but accepting at least some boundaries. Laurel desperately hadn't wanted to be saved. But Thea was pulling her ashore even kicking and screaming. She felt that moment again – where she knew that neither her calm façade side nor the raw, voiceless one wanted help. And yet as if from a third point of view, from the corner of the room, she realized that maybe it wasn't about what she wanted, but what she needed.

"Ok," she agreed, her voice nearly failing her on that.

"Great," Thea beamed, choosing not to highlight how dead Laurel's tone sounded. "When do you want to go?"

"Soon," Laurel managed.

"Not a problem," Thea would not be dissuaded from her chosen course. She may not know what was wrong, but she certainly felt like she had won a battle. She grinned with the energy of a sun filled battery and ordered a cheesecake. "I'm thinking Chile," she said with the first bite.

Laurel was still nursing her, already cold, cup of coffee. Her croissant, sad and forgotten on the place. "What?"

"Chile," Thea reinforced the idea. She had thought of it off the top of her head. It wasn't easy to try and quickly pick a location that would have no associations with Oliver. She knew very well that her brother had taken Laurel all around on trips. She also knew that most of the time it happened because Oliver had done something stupid, ended up in the papers and their parents had requested he make himself scarce until they made the mess go away.

"Chile," Thea repeated and pulled out her phone to do a quick search on top attractions there. "It's the land of extremes," she quoted. "It'll be great. Promise."

Laurel wanted to say that it was too generous. Too much time. Too much energy to invest. She had gotten so used to being on the periphery – it was startling to be at the focus of someone's attention. She felt obligated to try and talk Thea out of it, but as she opened her mouth… She slammed her lips shut. Selfishly she let Thea carry on. Laurel had no words for what she had experienced and felt now, but Thea didn't seem to need them. Thea heard her anyway.