Chapter 3: Unwell

Present Day – September 4, 2016

"Arrrgh!" Thea cried out in frustration. She gripped her head between her hands and leaned her forehead against the cool desk.

"How ya doin', kiddo?" Quentin Lance asked gently from where he stood beside Thea, sipping a cup of lukewarm coffee. "We can take a break. Or we can even wrap it up for the night." The kid looked completely wiped out and, honestly, Quentin thought that kicking back with a beer and spending the evening with Donna Smoak sounded like a better alternative to being stuck looking over grainy photos in the Star City Police Department.

"No!" Thea exclaimed. "We both have so much going on, we barely can find time to work on this! This is the time we both had free, so we are going to work on it!" Frustration and determination leeched into her tone.

"I hear you, Thea," Quentin said, adding the "r" sound that he was wont to place at the end of Thea's name. "But if we're both worn out and not accomplishin' anything, we should just pause. We can pick it up once we've got some rest." He blinked heavy eyes, weary from a long day as Oliver's deputy mayor followed by hours of perusing evidence once his workday ended. "It's not like we have a deadline – we can work when we have time."

"We don't have time!" Thea cried out in frustration, striking the desk and dispersing the laid-out pictures.

Quentin lapsed into surprised silence. Thea was always passionate, but this was a different level. Thea seemed to catch herself and pushed out her chair and turned so she could look at Quentin. "Look, I know you're right – we don't technically have a deadline." She shook her head like she was shaking away her thoughts. "I can't explain it, but it's like I hear this clock, always ticking, and it's telling me we're running out of time."

"Is it … a real clock?" Quentin asked slowly. "Do you … do you hear it right now?"

Thea fixed Quentin with a scowl. "A metaphorical clock, Quentin."

"Sure, sure," he said quickly, nodding as though he understood. Truth was, he had never liked English class with its metaphors and symbolism, and he did not, in fact, "get" the metaphorical clock.

"Look, Thea," he said seriously in his best father voice. "I know that bringin' these bastards to justice is your passion and I respect the hell out of you for it. But you're young. You've gotta have a life outside of work and this place. It's just not healthy to spread yourself so thin."

"Quentin -" Thea started.

"I mean, Laurel's worried about you. She thinks you've been out partying or somethin' and that you're moving out so that she can't keep an eye on you." He was certain that while Thea wasn't spending her time partying, Laurel was spot on that Thea didn't want her roommate's oversight. He had helped Laurel, Oliver, and their friends move Thea's things into her new apartment in the Glades the evening before, and here was Thea a day later, hours into the evening with no intention of returning to her apartment where no one would mark her absence.

"That's crazy," Thea defended. "I barely saw Laurel most days before I moved out."

"Yeah, but I think she still liked being able to check your room throughout the night to make sure you made it home," Quentin said, thinking about his daughter's concerns for the young woman in front of him. "And I think that's why she's worried. And I talked to Oliver while we were moving your things. He said he barely sees you anymore!"

"I scarcely have time to sleep, much less keep up with everyone," Thea said in exasperation.

"That's what I mean, kid. You're getting so lost in this that you aren't living. I get why you haven't wanted to bring other detectives in on this, but it's too much for two people."

"If it's getting to be too much for you, I will just work on it on my own," Thea snapped, sounding hurt.

"Thea, that's not what I'm saying," Quentin said in frustration. "I just … I care about you like you're my own kid, and I hate seein' you make yourself sick trying to pull this case together instead of living. That's all."

"And I don't mind giving up a little of mine if it will protect someone else," Thea said firmly, her tone making it clear that there was nothing more to discuss. Thea turned her chair back towards the table and pulled a picture close to inspect it.

Quentin sighed softly. He would help however he could – he just hoped Thea didn't live to regret it.

Past – April 13, 2016 – 5 months ago

"Thea caught some bug and won't be in today," Oliver explained to Alex while hanging up his office phone. He leaned back in his chair and focused his attention back on his campaign manager, ready to continue prepping for the day ahead.

"Thea's sick again?" Alex asked with concern. Oliver was struck by the worried look on Alex's face.

Oliver narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean 'again'?"

Alex, usually the picture of self-assurance, looked anything but. He looked like he was trying to decide whether he should say anything. Oliver hoped his expression would assure Alex that he didn't have a choice in the matter – he would answer. Alex gave a small sigh, then said, "Thea was really sick when you and Felicity were on your honeymoon. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say anything. It was just a slip of the tongue."

Oliver felt like he was still missing something important from this story. So far as Oliver knew, Thea was fine now, so why would Alex worry about mentioning a past illness? Alex looked a little shaken and really seemed to think he shouldn't have mentioned anything. "Why would you be sorry?" Oliver questioned in a tone that demanded honesty.

Alex said somewhat reluctantly, "I agreed to not tell you anything while you were on your honeymoon that would worry you. I guess since you didn't know, I just realized I probably shouldn't have said anything. And Thea was okay, Laurel and I took turns checking on her."

Checking on her? That didn't seem like a normal work colleague relationship. "Are you … dating again?" Oliver asked, confused.

"Oh, no, just friends," Alex said quickly, blushing a little. "Look, I need to hold the morning briefing, so -" Alex excused himself. Oliver watched him go, noting that he and Alex hadn't finished discussing the campaign plans for the day.

Oliver felt unsettled by his encounter with Alex. After thinking for a moment, he snatched up his phone and dialed Laurel.

"Hey, Ollie," Laurel greeted.

"I hear that Thea is sick … 'again'," Oliver said, emphasizing the point of his call.

"Oh," Laurel said, seeming to understand. She was silent for a moment, clearly thinking. "Who did you talk to?"

"Alex," Oliver gritted out, anticipating Laurel was trying to decide how much to tell him.

"He told you Thea was sick when you and Felicity were in France?" Laurel asked for confirmation.

"Umhm," Oliver replied. "And he acted like he had seen a ghost when I told him that Thea called out sick today. I want to know why."

"Oh, I'm sure he's still kind of shaken up," Laurel mused aloud. "Look, Thea was fine, first and foremost. If something was really wrong, I would have called you." That reassured Oliver somewhat, but:

"Why would Alex be shaken up?"

Laurel explained, "When you were in France, Thea failed to let me know she was sick before I left for work. Alex had been trying to call Thea to check on her, but she was feverish enough that she was asleep and missed all his calls. Alex went to the apartment and knocked on the door and Thea didn't answer. So, Alex called me in a panic to see if I could come home to let him in. I was in court, so I called the building supervisor to let Alex in." Laurel paused in her story. "I swear, the time from when Alex first called to when he gave me an update felt like hours instead of minutes. It reminded me far too much of when she was dying from her bloodlust."

The reminder instantly cause Oliver to tense up. Only a few months had passed since Thea had laid on life-support in a hospital bed. Everything was still too fresh. "But she was okay?" Oliver demanded.

"Yeah, it took her a few days to kick it, but she was fine." Laurel's casual tone soothed Oliver and he felt some of his tension fade. Laurel added drily, "She and I also had a long talk about making sure people are aware when you're sick so they can check on you."

"Did she tell you today?"

"Yes, she did. I was planning to stop back to see her during lunch."

Still uneasy from Alex's reaction, Oliver said, "I think I'm going to take off early today so I can check in on her too. Let me know how she is at lunch?"

"Sure, I'll text you."

Around 2 pm, Oliver let his staff know he was heading out for the day and then made the short drive over to Thea and Laurel's. Oliver reached his sister's bedroom and lightly rapped on the doorframe. When he received no answer, Oliver stepped into the room.

Thea was snuggled under the covers, fast asleep. Her cheeks were lightly tinged red while her face shone with light perspiration. Oliver leaned forward, laying the back of his hand against her forehead. He could feel the warmth on his hand. Thea stirred at the touch and her eyes cracked open.

"Hey," Oliver said, giving her a small smile.

"Hey," Thea said back blearily, pushing the blankets back a little and pulling herself up to lean against her pillow and the headboard.

"How are you feeling?" Oliver asked gently.

Thea shrugged, "Okay. Been better."

Oliver noted, "You have a fever."

"Makes sense," Thea said agreeably, eyes appearing heavy.

Oliver studied her. Thea clearly didn't feel well: her puffy face, raspy voice, and congestion spoke to that. Typically, when Thea didn't feel well, she acted like a cranky little bear, demanding silence, or her favorite TV show, or hot tea, or ... something. This Thea was entirely too amenable. Almost like she didn't want him sticking around to ask questions.

"Thea," Oliver said. "Is there something you're not telling me?" Thea froze for a moment, then looked at her brother like she was trying to read his meaning in his face. "Because you've been pretty run down recently. And I heard today that you were sick just a few weeks ago, after the wedding."

Thea shook her head, her eyes wide and confused. She said as though the thought was just occurring to her, "Oh, I've probably just been doing too much. I should find time for a vacation. Maybe check out Italy like I said I would after mom died."

"It's just interesting," Oliver noted. "When I told Alex you were sick today, he got this little wrinkle in his forehead." Oliver made the expression and pointed at the center of his own forehead. "Like, more than the kind of wrinkle one would expect from being told your ex-girlfriend/ current co-worker was taking a sick day."

"He's a lovely man, but a real worrier," Thea noted easily.

"I don't think that he is, Thea," Oliver disagreed. "He has kept his head during every campaign change we've had, and we've had some doozies, including you being kidnapped in front of him and our entire team and countless civilians being under fire from drones."

Thea shrugged as if she was equally as confused by the disparity.

Oliver said, "It just makes me feel like Alex knows something I don't. Like he's right to worry." Thea looked back at him, her face showing nothing but sympathetic confusion. Oliver tried a new tactic. "I know you and I are trying to get on better footing and trusting each other, so – Thea, is there anything you want to tell me?"

"Ollie, there is nothing to worry about," Thea chided gently. "I've got a doctor's appointment in an hour – I'm sure they'll do some tests and send me off with an antibiotic." Thea reassured Oliver, "Really, I'm fine."

Oliver wasn't convinced and asked, "Can I go with you to your appointment?"

Thea shot her brother an unimpressed look. "I am not twelve. I can go to my appointment by myself." Thea said as enthusiastically as she could through a cracking voice, "Look, you have an afternoon off and a beautiful wife who is able to walk and is getting her strength back. Why don't you take her to do something she's missed out on, like a picnic or a hike?"

"Don't think I don't see what you're doing," Oliver warned. Thea looked back with wide, innocent eyes. Oliver rolled his eyes and agreed, "But if you really don't want me there, at least text me when you're done?"

"Deal," Thea said.

Oliver did take Thea's advice and suggested that Felicity cut out early from work to take a walk with him by the lake. Oliver felt himself relaxing as he watched Felicity deftly step over tree roots and clamber up and over mounds of earth. He stood, watching with a huge smile on his face, while Felicity balanced on top of a rock overlooking the lake.

Felicity turned her bright blue eyes to look at him. When their eyes met, a small smile broke out on her face and she cocked her head to the side. "Why are you smiling?" she asked.

Oliver strode over and climbed onto the boulder with her. He kissed her head, which was now at the perfect height. "I just love seeing you like this," he said genuinely. "Free. Able to go where you want to. Happy."

Felicity met his gaze and then pulled him into a gentle kiss. "Me too," she declared as she pulled away.

"Felicity," Oliver said, eyes soft as he took in his wife. "I am so happy to see you feeling so well, but I just need you to know - even if you had never taken another step ever, you would still have my complete heart and been my complete joy."

Felicity's eyes filled and she leaned into her husband, resting her head on his shoulder. "I love you," she said from the safety of his arms.

They stood in silence watching the ripples on the lake's surface and hearing gentle birdsong in the treetops.

The silence was broken by a beeping from Oliver's phone. Oliver pulled back from Felicity to reach into his pocket and glanced at the screen. The text from Thea showed a photo of an orange medication bottle with Thea's name on it. Below the picture, Thea had written. "An antibiotic – told ya!"

Oliver let out a small snort at his sister's sassy response. Then he sighed.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Felicity asked.

"It's Thea," Oliver began. "She's been getting sick recently and she told me not to worry, but I am. Alex acted really weird about it and I just feel like Thea's keeping something from me."

"Do you think she's using again?" Felicity suggested, expression matching Oliver's.

"Well, now I do!" Oliver exclaimed, meeting Felicity's gaze. Just as quickly, he shook his head. "No, I don't know. If she was using, I would think it would impact her work on the campaign or when we're in the field, but her work and fighting has still been exemplary. I don't know…"

"Well, just keep showing her she can trust you. Hopefully she will talk with you if there's something important."

Past – April 15, 2016 – 2 days later

"Mia Dearden," Dr. Henson exclaimed warmly. "Thanks for coming back in. I wasn't sure you would after we talked on Wednesday."

Thea was a little embarrassed by the reminder. She had intentionally failed to schedule a needed follow-up appointment after she had learned her viral load count had gone up. But she was here now - surely that counted for something.

"You kind of put the fear of God in me on Wednesday," Thea admitted. Attempting to justify her failure to follow-up with Dr. Henson in February, Thea said, "I honestly thought my counts going up in January was just a 'blip', like you thought."

Dr. Henson nodded understandingly. "I do appreciate that. And if it was, having you return for follow-up bloodwork would have confirmed that," he pointed out the flaw in her logic. Dr. Henson tilted his head slightly and suggested, "I wonder if you were concerned it was more than a blip and that's why you missed your follow-up bloodwork and appointment."

Busted. "Maybe," Thea admitted.

"Mia, it's always better to have answers so we can respond to any problems," Dr. Henson advised gently. He gave her a half smile, saying, "You have done a fantastic job managing your HIV for nine years, other than that little 'medication vacation' when you were newly diagnosed. There is nothing to be ashamed of if things change with your health. We would rather know about it early so we can address it."

Thea nodded her understanding. She really did trust Dr. Henson after so many years of receiving care from him. But the idea that she could receive bad news at her appointment still scared her more than she was willing to admit.

Dr. Henson quickly reviewed Thea's antibiotic use from her recent illness and said he was glad to see her fever and most symptoms had abated. Then Dr. Henson leaned over to the computer stationed in the room, clicking around on the screen and pulling up results.

"So now, about your latest blood tests." Thea could readily sense the change in his voice from warm to more serious. Her heart began to pound.

"Mia, when we spoke the other day, I told you I was concerned that your current treatment regimen may be failing due to your recent frequent illnesses and the slightly elevated viral count at your visit in January." Thea felt her breath stutter. "Your bloodwork confirms it. Your viral load is 250 copies per mL. Of greater concern is that your CD4 levels, the count that tells us about your T-cells, are far lower than they were previously, at 255."

Thea felt the world blur. She swore she stopped breathing. Numbly she asked, "What does that mean?"

Dr. Henson told her in a straightforward manner, "It means that your current ART ... antiretroviral therapy ... regimen is no longer controlling the production of HIV in your body. It's imperative that we start you on a new regimen."

"New meds?" Thea asked weakly.

He nodded, mouth pursed sympathetically. "Yes. We will take you off your current retrovirals immediately and I will set you up with a new prescription. Unfortunately, we don't have another one-time-a-day drug combination, so you will be taking three separate medications instead of your current one."

Thea felt like her heart was still stuttering with the shock and asked nervously, "You said … you said my T-cells were low. How bad is that?"

Dr. Henson started slowly, explaining, "HIV is dangerous because it destroys the T-cells in your body: T-cells are your body's defense from infections and viruses. As you know, HIV and AIDs do not necessarily kill people – the lack of T-cells defending the body leads to a person being unable to fight off infections which can lead to premature death. Early intervention is so important because the body does not quickly reproduce T-cells." Thea nodded, understanding the basics of her disease.

Dr. Henson continued, "The first time someone is placed on antiretroviral therapy, they have the most significant leap in new T-cells and then small increases after that. We wouldn't expect to see someone produce new T-cells at the levels they maintained before HIV. That means we are protective of every single one." He paused for a moment, holding her gaze, and said, "Mia, you can't afford to lose any further T-cells. Your immune system is already fairly compromised."

"So … I'm screwed?" Thea asked, voice fearful.

Dr. Henson said gently, "That means while we are trying to repress the virus, we also need to focus on keeping you as healthy as possible. Your immune system is severely impacted right now. Any typical virus you pick up could make you very ill."

Thea lifted a shaky hand up to cover her mouth, trying to take in all of the information.

"You are also quite anemic, likely because of inflammation caused by the HIV virus." Thea's head spun and she struggled to grasp what Dr. Henson was saying as he continued. "I am going to set you up with regular iron infusions. You will need to come by the clinic for an hour every other week. We start infusion appointment slots at seven, so we can try to find a time that works best for your schedule."

Thea was struck by the idea that she would suddenly have to come to clinic every two weeks. She was already stretched so thin, it didn't seem possible to find the time. Instead of voicing her concerns, Thea asked weakly, "How long will I have to do that for?"

Dr. Henson said in a voice Thea could tell was meant to be comforting, "We will be seeing you frequently anyway - we need to monitor you closely so we can assess if this new therapy is effective in suppressing the HIV virus in your body. We will start monthly blood tests to check on your viral loads, T-cell counts, and your hemoglobin and iron levels. Once I start seeing improvement, we will try to reduce the frequency of infusions and try to stabilize you with an oral supplement, or iron pills."

Thea felt like her world had just flipped inside out. Suddenly, needing an answer, Thea asked fearfully, "Am … am I dying?"

Dr. Henson looked on sympathetically, but said straightforwardly, "This is serious, Mia. Your HIV has progressed. You are now more open to infections and illness, and you are going to feel more of the effects of having a damaged immune system." Thea felt a wave of fear flow back over her body at the words. Dr. Henson added more positively, "But, if we find the right therapy, we can stop HIV in its tracks and try to hold you at this point - possibly even improve your T-cell counts."

"So …" Thea trailed off, realizing that Dr. Henson was avoiding her actual question.

"You are not actively dying, Mia," Dr. Henson directly answered. He added, "But you are sicker. And if we can't get your therapies figured out, it will not take long until you could transition from HIV to AIDs. While we have made a lot of progress with antibiotics and treatments, we still typically see survivability of about three years after an AIDs diagnosis."

Thea said faintly, "So, if the new treatment doesn't work, then -"

Dr. Henson interjected quickly, "There is no reason to think that another ART will not work. If the next we try fails, we have others." He looked at Thea warmly. "We're going to work through this, a day at a time."

Thea asked feebly, "But if my T-cell counts aren't going to go back up. What does that mean?"

Dr. Henson laid a hand on her shoulder. "Honestly, Mia … it means that you likely won't have as many healthy years as we would like. We just … can't predict the future."

Thea's head felt light and sound was muffled as the nurse entered and talked her through her new medication regimen and scheduled her first iron infusion. It thrummed through her head – she was going to die. She was going to die.

Thea found herself wandering out of the clinic in a daze holding a bag with her new prescriptions. She walked slowly along the busy sidewalk in the Glades, people pressing and passing on all sides. She kept moving until she found herself at a small park, not even a block in length. There was a basketball hoop over a half court, and off to the side was a small greenspace with a few benches. Thea sat down heavily and stared at the bag in shock.

She was going to die young. She wasn't going to retire and spend her days hosting family dinners with her grandkids gathered around. She probably wasn't even going to get married, or have kids - not when she could spread this thing or knowing she wouldn't be alive long enough to raise them. She could be too sick to hold a job. Forget about going back to school for a degree.

Next thing she knew, tears filled her eyes and dripped hotly down her cheeks. Thea drew a shaky breath in, trying to contain herself. She was dying. The thought broke through her self-control, and she sobbed, doubling over.

What was a dying girl to do? Thea thought of all the things she thought her life would be and all she had been too scared to do.

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. She didn't choose any of this. She hadn't chosen to be sick. She hadn't had a choice when that HIV-positive, adult man had slept with her. That he hadn't used protection. She hadn't asked for Mr. Phillips to pick her out of her classmates to use her. She hadn't asked for her father and brother to be lost at sea, leaving her vulnerable to Mr. Phillips' advances.

At least Mr. Phillips was going to rot in jail where he belonged. But not the man who would prove to be the one to kill her. The one who infected her with this disease which was filling her life with long, sick days and suffering.

And not just him, but the string of angry, slimy, cruel men that Mr. Phillips had brought to her. Not one of them were where they belonged.

Thea realized that she had always been afraid to confront her past. In therapy she was just beginning to open up about her experience with Mr. Phillips and the almost two years he had ruled her life with fear. She had certainly never dwelt on those men and where they had ended up. Until now.

What did she have to lose? She had already lost her future. Who did she have to fear? The press? Her brother? That was over now. Now she had to make these days, however many she had, count.

Heart pounding in her chest, Thea pulled herself together. With a quick trip to her and Ollie's storage unit, Thea set her sights on the Star City Police Department. Thea knew it was already after noon on a Friday and figured Captain Lance would be doing his best to tie up the week's loose ends before the weekend, but she wasn't willing to wait.

Thea confidently walked up to the front desk in Star City PD and asked if she could see Captain Lance. The receptionist picked up the phone and in minutes, Captain Lance appeared at the desk.

"Thea!" he called out in surprise, with the slight "r" sound at the end of Thea's name which was unique to him. "What brings you here?"

"I just needed to talk with you." Thea did her best to remain casual sounding, but she knew from the instant concern on his face that she hadn't managed it. The look of worry felt nice, but also hurt. It was like when she was a kid and her mom would just have to look at her, ask "What's wrong?" and Thea would find herself sobbing, trying to explain through her tears. Captain Lance's familiar presence when she was still reeling from such terrible news sent tears straight to Thea's eyes.

"Sure, sure," Captain Lance said quickly. "Follow me." He led her into his office.

As soon as they were in the office, Thea looked around quickly. "Can we close the curtains?" she asked softly. Lance nodded and twisted the blinds closed on the door and windows. Thea settled into her chair, doing her best to calm herself. Her heart pounded and a little of her earlier courage had left her. Then she remembered: make these days count. Thea would bring each of these bastards down with her last breath, if that's what it took.

Lance sat hurriedly and asked, his face pale, "Thea, what's goin' on?" Thea realized slowly that Lance likely thought that Thea had come with bad news from one of his daughters.

"Laurel and Sara are fine," she said in a rush. "I'm not here about them … I'm here about me."

A little of the tension seemed to leave Lance's face knowing his daughters were safe. Then it seemed to occur to him again that something was clearly not well with Thea. "Okay," he said slowly. "What can I do for you?"

Thea set a box on Captain Lance's desk. She pulled off the top, revealing random items. A stack of after visit summaries from a clinic in 2008, several pairs of pre-teen sized pajamas, and two colorful journals. Thea lifted the books out and held them.

"When I was twelve, my dad and brother died. Two months later, a teacher at my school began assaulting me. Within the month, he starting selling me off to a bunch of other men. For two years, I was in the worst kind of hell. Now, I need your help to take them all down."