Chapter 36
Time, Truth, Tragedy
"There is no escaping time, no hiding from the truth, and no outrunning tragedy. The only choice is how you face them."
-Unknown
When Oliver came down the stairs, he was alone. Quentin and Watson were still locked in their argument.
"I told Diaz to go to hell because you were about to move on him," Quentin snapped, glaring at Watson.
"It was deception," Anatoly interjected. "He learned I was helping you, and he manipulated me."
"So, we're right back to square one," John sighed. "No idea where Diaz is."
Oliver opened his mouth to speak, but Watson cut him off.
"But now we have a way to find out," she said, her eyes landing on Quentin. "You tell Diaz you want to see Charlotte. Proof of life. We follow you to her, her to Diaz."
Quentin frowned. "You go in there guns blazing, my niece takes the first bullet."
"From what Oliver tells me, she's not actually your niece. And she's a criminal who made her own bed," Watson countered. "This isn't a hostage situation. Our objective hasn't changed."
"Oliver, please." Quentin turned to him, hoping he'd step in.
"We can keep her safe," Oliver assured him.
"How?" Quentin said not seeing how this could not be dangerous for her. "The first thing he'll do when he sees you coming is kill her!"
"I think this is a risk we need to take." Oliver said and Quentin shook his head.
Quentin's face darkened. "Yeah? Would you be taking that risk if this was your wife? Or is that the same kind of risk that got her kidnapped by the bastard who has my daughter?"
The room went silent. Quentin had slipped, calling Charlie his daughter, but he didn't care. He huffed before stalking out of the station.
His phone rang almost immediately. Of course that was the moment Diaz called him again with another attempt to use Charlie as ransom to get him to get the FBI out of Star City. Quentin angrily hung up the phone before letting out a sigh. He felt the presence behind him.
"Any one ever told you it's rude to sneak up on people." Quentin says before turning to Oliver.
"No one's ever told me that," Oliver said, stepping into the light, his bow in hand. "But Twinkie claims I skulk loudly." He gestured to Quentin's phone. "Diaz?"
"He's going to kill her," Quentin admitted.
"I won't let that happen," Oliver promised.
Quentin scoffed. "What about Watson? Doesn't seem like it's important to her."
"Let me worry about Samanda Watson, and let me try to keep Charlie safe."
"I don't see how you can, Oliver."
"You can start by trusting me, please." Oliver replied. "I mean, I've earned it. We've known each other for a very long time, Quentin."
Quentin chuckled bitterly. "A lifetime. We've come a long way, you and me."
"It's been getting better since the first time you arrested me," Oliver said, allowing himself a small smile.
"You know, I've always been curious—how'd you beat that lie detector anyway?"
Oliver smirked faintly. "It just comes down to keeping a regular heart rate."
Quentin raised an eyebrow. "I got a pacemaker that does that."
"I didn't know you had a pacemaker."
"He got it after the Mirakuru," a voice suddenly spoke from behind them. They turned to see Katie standing there.
"The old ticker couldn't take that pounding," she added.
Quentin's eyes widened before he turned to Oliver. "Why are you not freaking out that your wife is standing here and not in the hands of a crazy person?"
"We already had our reunion on the roof," Oliver replied before turning to Katie. "You were supposed to wait for my signal."
"Is this not the signal?" she asked, gesturing between him and Quentin. Oliver shook his head, and Katie just waved him off before focusing on Quentin. "Did I overhear you talking to Diaz?"
"He has Charlie." Quentin said and Katie groaned. "What?"
"I found Charlie when I was in there," she explained. "He had her locked in some kind of cage, and I knew he was going to use her against you, so I let her go." She sighed. "He must've recaptured her."
"Do you know where he's keeping her?" Quentin asked.
"I never figured that part out while I was there, but I think if I put my mind to it, I could."
"No," Oliver suddenly said. They both turned to him. "Twinkie, you've pushed yourself enough tonight. Just let us handle the rest."
Quentin studied him for a moment before shifting his gaze back to Katie. "You know, she was right," he said. "About my heart. It couldn't take the pounding. Truth be told, I don't know if I could take it now."
"Yes, it can," Oliver said with certainty. "Because you're tough. Charlie is tough, too. So trust me, and this will all work out."
Quentin hesitated before reaching out to shake Oliver's hand. Oliver gave him a reassuring nod before turning back to Katie—who was looking at him with a furrowed brow.
"What?"
"No." She crossed her arms. "Did you just tell me no, like I'm a child?"
Oliver barely had time to respond before Quentin awkwardly gestured toward the station. "I should—" he didn't say anything before walking off.
Katie stayed behind, watching Oliver.
"You know what? Fine." Oliver stepped in front of her, his gaze steady. "I said no—not because I think you're a child, but because the woman I married would go through hell and high water to help the people she cares about, no matter the pain it puts her through."
"I can take it," she shot back.
Oliver sighed before wrapping his arms around her. "I know you can. But this is the moment I do what you won't. I'm going to choose to save you."
The corner of his mouth lifted when she rolled her eyes, recognizing the words she had once said to him.
"You think you're cute, don't you?" she muttered.
"I think I'm alright," he said, pulling her closer. "You've done everything you could. Let us handle the rest. We'll stop him, and you can finally take it easy."
Katie scoffed and gave him a light shove as she stepped away. "I'm not taking it easy."
Oliver shook his head, already expecting that answer. He quickly caught up to her and took her hand, lacing their fingers together.
"So," she said, glancing at him, "what's the story you're going to tell the FBI about how I miraculously escaped Diaz's capture?"
Oliver let out a sigh, knowing full well that was a problem he still had to solve.
Katie pointed a finger at him, "You better be glad, I'm better at lying than you." She replied before shoving him toward the station.
Oliver wasn't sure what Katie wasn't going to say, but he decided to just go with it. He walked into the station alone. He saw Quentin talking to Watson, figuring they were talking about the plan to cross Diaz. He'd only taken a few steps, when he heard the door behind him open and all eyes looked behind him. Oliver spun around and his eyes went wide.
Katie stumbled inside, looking as though she had been through hell. Her hair was a mess, her clothes were torn in places, and a streak of blood—Oliver knew wasn't real—ran down the side of her face. She was breathing hard, her eyes wild, and when she finally looked up, it was as if the weight of her escape hit her all at once.
She staggered forward. "Jesus," she whispered, shaking her head. "I can't believe I actually made it."
Oliver snapped out of his shock and rushed to her side. "Twinkie!"
"I'm okay," Katie assured him, though her voice was breathless.
Oliver wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly for just a second before pulling back to examine her face. His sharp eyes scanned every bruise, every smudge of dirt.
"It looks worse than it actually is," she added quickly, attempting a small smile.
She turned her head slightly, noticing the entire room watching her, waiting for an explanation she couldn't give—at least, not yet. Instead, she locked eyes with Oliver.
"Just go with it." She mouthed the words before her body suddenly went limp.
Oliver barely had a second to react before she collapsed, but his reflexes were faster than her act. He caught her easily, lowering her gently to the ground as the room erupted in motion around them.
The next time Katie opened her eyes, she was lying on a couch in one of the offices at the police station. The room was dimly lit, and the muffled sounds of the station buzzed just beyond the closed door.
Oliver had finally convinced the team that she was fine and just needed space. When they reluctantly left, he shut the door behind them and turned back to his wife.
Katie cracked open one eye and smirked up at him.
"I can't believe you did that again," Oliver muttered, crossing his arms.
A grin spread across her face as she stretched. "Some material just works." She stretched a bit. "At least now I have time to come up with an actual story for Watson," she added, glancing over to Oliver, who hadn't moved.
He just stood there, watching her, something unreadable in his eyes.
"You have to go," she said softly.
"I do," he admitted. "And yet…"
Instead of leaving, he stepped forward, crouching down in front of her on one knee. He took her hands in his, rubbing slow circles over her knuckles.
"I don't want to walk out of this room," he confessed.
Katie let out a soft breath, then reached up, cupping his face between her hands.
"When this is all over, we should finally take that trip to Disney. What do you say?"
A slow smile pulled at Oliver's lips before his gaze flickered down to a streak of blood on her cheek. He swiped a thumb over it, then—out of pure curiosity—brought it to his lips. The second the taste hit his tongue, he sighed, shaking his head.
"It's ketchup," he muttered, looking back at her with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. Katie only grinned. "You're kind of ridiculous."
"It's why you love me."
Oliver couldn't argue with that.
She tugged him forward, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before pulling back with a content sigh. "Now go. Bring this bastard down while I recharge." With that, she lied back onto the couch, draping an arm over her eyes.
Oliver ran a hand over her head before finally standing. He made it to the door, but just as he reached for the handle, he paused.
"You're going to wait until we're gone before sneaking a peek at the monitors with Felicity, aren't you?"
Without moving, Katie smirked. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Oliver huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he finally stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.
Actually, this time, Oliver was wrong. When he and the team left for Quentin to make the trade with Diaz, Katie didn't sneak off to listen with Felicity. Instead, she moved quietly through the police station, navigating its hallways until she found a small room with a large map of the city plastered across one wall.
Katie shut the door behind her, her eyes glued to the map. She knew this deal with Diaz wasn't going to end well. Somehow, some way, Diaz would figure out that Quentin was being tracked by the FBI, and he would take Quentin before the FBI could act. Once Diaz had Quentin and Charlie, there was no telling what that dangerous bastard might do. She had to find that factory.
Looking down at her palms, Katie saw the faint glow on the tips of her fingers. "Just one more push, and then I'll sleep for days," she muttered to herself, her determination clear as she reached out to place her palm on the map.
Before she could make contact, the door behind her creaked open. She spun around, caught off guard by the last person she expected to see.
"Ethan?" Katie blinked, taking a step toward him. "What are you doing here?"
"Quentin called Laur, told her about this dumbass plan she tried to talk him out of," Ethan explained, walking into the room and stopping a few feet in front of her. "He let it slip that you were here. I've been trying to talk to you for days, but Diaz is wrecking the city, I'm a dad now, and you don't stay still for five minutes."
"Ethan, I'm fine, and at this moment, I'm kind of busy, so if you would—"
"You're not doing anything else until I talk to you," Ethan said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. He stared at her with that familiar intensity. "Now sit down."
Quentin had gone to meet with Diaz, only for everything to fall apart when Quentin revealed the FBI's involvement. Diaz had tossed the tracker and taken Quentin, and now both Quentin and Charlie were in his hands. Now the team was left with no idea where they were.
Back at the police station, Watson was furious.
"When this is over, I'm bringing your friend Quentin up on obstruction," Watson told John as they walked inside, her voice laced with frustration. "Our immunity arrangement doesn't extend to him."
"He was trying to save Charlotte," John responded, trying to reason with her.
"Well, I'm trying to save this city, the city your friend is supposed to be the mayor of," Watson snapped.
"I can't believe he'd do something so reckless," Rene muttered, shaking his head as he followed them inside.
"Or stupid," Dinah added. "He knows Diaz will kill him and Charlie."
"I'd call it reckless, but Quentin isn't stupid," Ari spoke up. They all turned to her.
"Well, he wasn't thinking, and that's the problem," Watson said before turning to Oliver. "New plan: We need to wake your wife up and get anything she has on Diaz's location."
"She doesn't know where Diaz is," Oliver said, but Watson's skeptical gaze was already on him.
"So she escaped, but she doesn't know where she escaped from? No street names? No familiar buildings? Nothing that can give us a lead?"
Oliver thought quickly, knowing this lie was about to fall apart if he didn't come up with something solid. Then, it clicked.
"Wait, when we were talking outside," Oliver started, "Quentin mentioned he had a pacemaker." He turned to Felicity, urgency in his tone. "You can track a pacemaker, right?"
"You know I can," Felicity replied immediately.
Oliver nodded, a plan taking shape. "Quentin knew Diaz's man would frisk him for a tracker. He also knew that Diaz wouldn't actually bring Charlie to the meet, so he made sure Diaz brought him to her, hoping we could track him."
Watson's turned to Felicity. "How long will it take you to find him?"
"Give me a high-speed connection and a few minutes," Felicity replied.
Watson nodded before Felicity rushed off to work.
Before Oliver could leave, Watson stopped him, standing in front of him with a look of suspicion in her eyes.
"When this is all over, I'm going to question your wife about how she escaped from Diaz," she said pointedly. "So, unless Diaz is a complete idiot and she outsmarted him, I find it hard to believe he lost her."
"The truth is," Oliver replied confidently, "Diaz is a complete idiot. And I'm pretty sure that if anyone could outsmart him, it would be my wife. You can talk to her when she's ready. For now, we're waiting for Felicity."
Oliver started to walk away, but then he stopped. Across the station, he spotted a familiar face.
"Ethan?" Oliver called out.
Ethan turned and walked over, his brow furrowing with concern.
"What are you doing here? Why aren't you with Laurel and the baby at the safe house?" Oliver asked.
"They're on their way, but Laurel got a call from Quentin about the meet with Diaz," Ethan said, scanning the station for any sign of his father-in-law. Ethan turned back to Oliver who let out a sigh. "Seriously?"
Oliver sighed. "It's fine. Felicity's tracking his pacemaker. We'll find him. Don't worry."
Ethan didn't say anything more, but the concern was written all over his face. He clearly wasn't going to stop worrying until Quentin was safe.
"Have you checked in with Katie?" Oliver asked.
Ethan glanced over at him. "Yeah, she's still back there. I'm going to see if I can help Felicity."
Without waiting for an answer, he hurried off. Oliver watched him with confusion, but didn't question it further.
When Oliver found Katie, she was back in the office where he'd left her. She was sitting on the couch, staring off into space.
"Hey," Oliver said softly, walking over to her. "Are you okay?"
Katie turned her head and opened her mouth to respond, but stopped herself. She cleared her throat, then forced a small smile.
"Yeah, just—" She sighed. "The day's just catching up to me, I guess."
She turned back to him. "You lost Quentin."
"How did you know?" Oliver asked, his voice tinged with surprise.
"Sometimes I'm good at reading people," she replied, standing up. "And Quentin wasn't taking any chances with Charlie."
"We think we have a shot at finding him. Felicity's tracking his pacemaker, and hopefully, that'll lead us to Diaz."
Katie nodded. Oliver could tell something was different in her demeanor, but he couldn't quite place it.
"Twinkie, are you sure you're okay?"
Katie met his gaze, placing a hand on his chest. "I'm okay, really. Just worried about Quentin. And if Felicity's got her fingers on a keyboard, I'm sure it won't be long before we get a location." She lifted her eyes to his. "We should get out there."
"Or maybe I go out there, and you rest some more." Oliver's voice was gentle, but there was concern in his eyes. "Unless you have that story to explain how you escaped from Diaz for Watson?" Katie sighed. "She's getting suspicious. So, for now, you should stay out of sight."
He brought his arms around her, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head. "Rest, for real this time."
"What makes you think I haven't been resting since you left?" Katie asked, but Oliver couldn't help but chuckle.
"Because you're you," he replied with a smile, kissing her cheek. "Now, please. Rest."
With one last lingering look, Oliver pulled away, heading out to check on any leads.
Katie was right—when Felicity got behind a keyboard, magic usually happened. In no time, she had a location.
Once Felicity notified him, Oliver glanced over and spotted Dinah heading down the hall. He quickly moved to catch up with her.
"Hey," Oliver called, and Dinah turned. "Felicity has Quentin's location. It's an abandoned chemical plant on the border of Pennytown. We're moving out in five minutes."
Dinah nodded. "I'll be ready."
"The FBI's only objective is Diaz," Oliver added. "They'll do their best to keep Quentin safe, but they don't care if Black Siren is collateral damage."
Dinah stopped walking and turned to face him. "Your point?"
"My point, Dinah, is that it's up to us to keep her safe," Oliver said. "I know you've put your vendetta aside for the sake of the mission."
"And you want to make sure I keep it that way."
Oliver shook his head. "I want to say thank you. It takes a very big person to not seek vengeance for someone they love. If I haven't always been sensitive to that, I'm truly sorry."
Dinah looked at him for a moment, caught off guard by his words.
"I'm sorry I was so hard on you," she admitted. "The truth is, I respect you more than you could ever know." She offered a small smile. "You put together a team of heroes. That's no small thing."
Oliver smiled and held out his hand. Dinah shook it firmly before stepping back. "I'm going to get ready."
As she turned, they both noticed Ari walking toward them. Dinah nodded in acknowledgment before heading off.
"Okay, what's going on?" Ari asked, narrowing her eyes at Oliver. "You've been on some Oliver farewell tour all day—giving John the hood, thanking people left and right. Just tell me what's happening. Everyone's trying to figure out what you had to give Watson in exchange for our immunity. Is it bad?"
Oliver stayed silent.
Ari's eyes widened. "You have to give up being the Green Arrow, don't you?"
"Sort of," Oliver admitted and Ari swatted his arm. "Hey—"
"You cannot seriously agree to that! After everything you've done to keep that hood—you risked losing your family for it—and now you're just handing it over?"
"Ari," Oliver placed his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not letting Watson take anything. It was my idea."
Ari stared at him in disbelief. "I'm sorry, I think there's something in my ears. Did you just say it was your idea? Because if you did, I'm going to hit you again."
"Uh, hey—"
They turned to see Curtis approaching.
"Sorry to interrupt what looks like a serious father-daughter moment, but everyone's ready to go."
Oliver nodded before looking back at Ari. "We'll talk about this later. And no more dad hitting." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head before stepping away.
Just as he did, a red flash of light zipped past.
Oliver stopped in his tracks, glancing back at Ari, who had noticed it too.
"Was that…" Ari trailed off.
Oliver turned away without answering, already moving to investigate.
Back at the station, no one seemed to have noticed. He scanned the room, a thought forming, before heading toward the back office. He pushed the door open to find Katie standing over a suitcase. She glanced up as he entered.
"Was Barry just here?" Oliver asked, stepping inside and letting the door close behind him.
"Yeah," Katie said, turning back to the open suitcase. "Apparently, someone called Cisco and told him I needed reinforcements."
Oliver moved beside her, eyes dropping to the sleek black-and-yellow Guardian suit inside. A mixture of emotions flickered across his face.
He had always admired the strength and courage that came with the Guardian, but a part of him would always prefer Katie as far away from the danger they were about to walk into.
Katie looked at him and immediately recognized the thoughts running through his head. She slipped her arm around his and rested her head against his shoulder.
"You know, a few months ago, I made a promise—to myself and to the kids—that I would never put myself in a position that would risk them losing me," Katie said. Oliver turned to her, listening intently. "I didn't want them to ever be afraid of a life without me." She looked back at the suit. "But at some point, I stopped underestimating my own abilities. I accepted that the Guardian is a part of me."
Oliver placed a kiss on her head.
"The person hunting Diaz today wasn't the Guardian," Katie admitted. "She was a sad, angry mother and wife who wanted the man who tried to take everything from her to just be gone. And if given the opportunity again, I wouldn't hesitate." She lifted her eyes to his. "And that's not the Guardian I want to be."
Oliver met her gaze, understanding the weight of her words.
"You tell me you need me tonight," she said, voice steady, "and I'll figure it out."
Oliver exhaled, his fingers brushing over the Guardian suit before he turned to face Katie fully.
"I always need you," he admitted, voice low. He knew he couldn't let his fears speak right now. "But I also need you to be sure. Tonight isn't just about taking down Diaz—it's about making sure we all walk out of this alive."
Katie studied him, searching his face. She could see the weight he carried, the pressure of every choice he made pressing down on his shoulders. Her gaze drifted to the suit again, really considering what it meant to put it on and step onto the battlefield. It wasn't just about tonight—it was about everything that came after.
She let out a deep breath, then turned back to Oliver.
"You should go," she said simply.
Oliver looked surprised but didn't question it. Instead, he stepped forward, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips before heading for the door. Just as he reached for the handle, he hesitated.
"You're coming, aren't you?" he asked, turning back to her.
Katie glanced over her shoulder with a knowing smile.
"I have no idea what you're talking about." she replied.
Oliver chuckled, shaking his head before finally pushing the door open and stepping out.
The chemical plant was already a war zone by the time Katie arrived. Gunfire echoed through the massive, rusted-out structure, the air thick with smoke and the horrid stench of chemicals. The flashing red and blue of emergency lights filtered through broken windows, casting eerie shadows as she charged in.
The team was scattered, engaged in brutal combat with Diaz's thugs. Felicity's voice crackled over the comms, directing them through the chaos, but Katie barely heard it over the clash of fists and gunfire.
Katie moved carefully, weaving through the battle with precise, calculated strikes. She wasn't reckless—she couldn't be. Every move was careful, every dodge purposeful. She fought smart, letting her opponents tire themselves out, using their own momentum against them rather than charging in recklessly.
She kept the team in her sights as she navigated through the chaos, trying to be aware of anyone who may need any back up, but there wasn't anyone. Each member of the team seemed to be holding their own effortlessly. She even caught sight of Batman as he swung from up above, engaged in a fight with a few of Diaz's men. Not too far away, Ari seemed to be effortlessly engaging in a hand to hand with one of the dirty cops. Katie took a step when another tried to sneak up behind her, but soon Damian appeared, dawned as Robin as back up.
Across the room, she spotted Oliver—The Green Arrow—moving with deadly precision as he cut a path toward Diaz. Her heart pounded as she watched him disappear through a doorway, hot on Diaz's trail. For a split second, she was tempted to follow. But then—
"Katie!"
The voice yanked her back to reality. She turned sharply and saw Charlie on the ground, cradling Quentin in her arms. Blood seeped through his shirt, his face pale and slick with sweat.
No hesitation.
She rushed to their side, kneeling beside Charlie. "We need to get him out of here. Now." She looked up to Charlie and noticed the collar on her neck and so she reach forward, and with small illumination from her hand, the collar fell away. "This is the last rescue you're getting from me."
With that, they both brought Quentin's arms up and pulled him to his feet. Each step toward the exit was agonizingly slow, every breath Quentin took sounding too shallow.
Then—movement.
A trio of Diaz's men emerged from the shadows, weapons drawn.
"Go!" Katie ordered, shifting her stance as she pushed Charlie and Quentin toward the exit.
Charlie hesitated, but Katie had already lunged forward, intercepting the first thug with a sharp kick to his knee, sending him crashing down. The second came at her with a knife, but she twisted, disarming him with a precise strike before driving her fist into his jaw. The third rushed in from behind—
A sonic scream shattered the air.
The man flew back, crashing against a stack of metal crates.
Katie glanced to her side and saw Dinah standing there, her expression hard and determined.
"Thought you could use a hand," Dinah said.
Katie smirked. "Not complaining."
With Dinah covering her, they made quick work of the remaining attackers before sprinting outside. The moment they burst through the doors, they moved quickly away from the chaos to get Quentin some help.
At some point, Katie found herself in yet another unexpected outfit. Hours later, Quentin was stable, but still far from out of danger. Standing in the hospital bathroom, she gazed at her reflection in the dark blue scrubs, letting out a quiet sigh. After a moment, she turned off the faucet and stepped out.
She felt a wave of relief when she saw Oliver standing outside the door. She walked over to him, gently placing her hand on the side of his bruised face.
"How is Quentin?" Oliver asked, his voice low as he placed a hand on her waist.
"He's septic," Katie replied, her expression serious. "He's about to head into surgery. Ethan's freaking out because the surgeon won't let him in the OR, so I'm going in instead." She paused, glancing down the hall. "Everyone else is in the waiting room, taking turns seeing him before he goes in."
Oliver followed her a step. "Hey, Twinkie—"
"Diaz got away," Katie said, turning back to him. "I know." She walked over to him, resting a hand on his chest. "But I'm not going to let that stop us from planning for the future. Quentin's going to make it out of this surgery. Then, we'll go get our kids, and we'll go crazy at Disney World."
She smiled at him, her words an attempt to give them both something to look forward to.
Oliver's gaze softened, his eyes locking with hers. But before he could say anything, they heard yelling from down the hall. Katie rolled her eyes with a sigh.
"That's Ethan. I better go calm him down before they throw him out of his own hospital," she said, turning toward the noise.
She leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. As she pulled back, her eyes lingered on his.
"What?" Oliver asked, sensing the quiet shift in her expression.
"How about I tell you later?" she replied, offering him a small, teasing smile before walking off to check on Ethan.
Oliver stood there, watching her go. His shoulders slumped slightly as the weight of everything hit him again. He knew, deep down, that the future she envisioned—the one that gave her hope—might never come true.
With a heavy sigh, he turned and headed for the waiting room to find the others.
Oliver had learned that Rene was in with Quentin, so after a few minutes, he made his way in as well.
"How's he doing?" Oliver asked quietly as Rene stood and walked over to him, clapping him gently on the shoulder.
"Kind of macabre, actually," Rene replied, sighing heavily. "I'll give you guys a minute." He stepped out, leaving Oliver alone with Quentin.
"Hi," Oliver said softly as he looked over to where Quentin lay in the hospital bed, his expression drained and weary.
"What's the latest on Diaz?" Quentin asked, his voice rough.
"Diaz—" Oliver paused, struggling to find the right words. "He, uh… got away."
"How?" Quentin asked, a sharp edge to his voice.
Oliver shook his head, exhaustion and frustration heavy in his gaze. "Doesn't matter," he said, though the weight of the situation pressed down on him. "We'll get him. We've got a list of everyone he's been controlling. FBI's rounding them up as we speak."
"So we can take our city back," Quentin said, a hint of relief in his voice, though it was muffled by the pain he was clearly in. Oliver nodded in agreement.
"You did good, Oliver," Quentin added, his voice cracking slightly, the exhaustion and pain catching up to him.
"Thank you," Oliver replied, his voice thick. "But it's not over yet."
Quentin's eyes shifted to Oliver, and for a moment, his gaze was steady, almost piercing. "It is for you," he said quietly, a faint but knowing edge to his words.
Oliver furrowed his brow, uncertain of where this was going.
"Am I wrong?" Quentin continued. "I've been dealing with Samanda Watson for months. There's no way she was gonna help you without strings attached. But those strings, Oliver... that's a hell of a sacrifice."
Oliver's shoulders slumped as he exhaled sharply. "I had to look at the way I've been doing things," he muttered. "It's not working. I lost my city, I lost my team, my family...There's a penance for that."
Quentin looked at him with a mix of understanding and weariness. "It just seems a little drastic," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Coming from the guy who just took a bullet for his daughter?" Oliver countered, his eyes softening as he met Quentin's gaze. "Quentin, I hope I took the time to tell you...you're a really good father."
Quentin looked back at him, his face softening with a quiet, grateful smile. "So are you," he said.
"I had a good example," Oliver replied, his voice filled with an emotion he couldn't quite name.
"Yeah," Quentin nodded, his eyes thoughtful. "Your dad was a good man."
Oliver's eyes flickered with something unreadable. "I'm not talking about my dad," he said quietly, his voice thick.
The door opened then, and both men turned to see Katie standing in the doorway, with two orderlies.
"It's about that time, old man," Katie said, her eyes moving between Oliver and Quentin.
"Well," Oliver said, standing up, his gaze lingering on Quentin. "When you get out, everyone will be here waiting for you."
"Thanks, Oliver," Quentin replied, his voice soft, yet filled with a quiet sincerity. "For everything."
Oliver nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of what lay ahead. As the orderlies moved in, he lingered for a moment longer, not knowing when—if—he would see Quentin again. He couldn't let himself think about it too much, not with everything still hanging in the balance. Katie glanced back to him one final time before she followed behind them.
Inside the operating room, Quentin lay prepped and waiting, doing his best to mask his nerves. But it was no use—he was scared.
"How about a joke?" Katie offered from her spot on the stool beside him.
A tired smile pulled at his lips as he turned to her. "Is this the level of professionalism your patients get before major surgery?"
"Only the ones I like," she replied, squeezing his hand lightly.
Quentin exhaled a quiet laugh but then turned away slightly. "You're the only one who didn't stop by for the final send-off before I went under the knife," he murmured. "Ethan had to pull Laurel out of the room." He looked back at Katie. "So, anything you want to tell me before they knock me out?"
Katie hesitated, glancing away in thought before meeting his gaze again. "Not particularly." She smiled softly. "I just hope I've shown you every day how much you mean to me. Even though we didn't start off on the best terms."
Quentin chuckled, raspy but warm. "You cracked a joke after a mass shooting at the courthouse. I thought you were crazy." He shook his head. "Still do."
The surgeon walked in, and Katie met his gaze with a nod.
"It's time," she whispered to Quentin, giving his hand a firm squeeze before leaning in close, her forehead nearly touching his. "You've got this Quentin."
Quentin's voice cracked as he whispered, "Hey, Doc."
He didn't say the words, but he didn't have to.
Katie felt the tear slip from her eye, before she could stop it. "I know," she whispered back. "Me too."
Outside the family waiting room, Charlie paced, her arms crossed, heart hammering in her chest. The sound of a baby's cry made her pause. She hesitated, then pushed open the door to find Laurel inside, gently rocking her son.
Laurel's red, puffy eyes flickered toward Charlie but said nothing. She turned back to her baby, soothing him until his little eyes fluttered shut. With careful movements, she placed him in his stroller.
"I—uh, I heard him crying," Charlie admitted, knowing it wasn't much of an excuse.
Laurel didn't respond at first, simply staring down at her son. Then, quietly, she said, "He shouldn't have done it."
Charlie swallowed hard. "That bullet was meant for me. He should've let me take it. He should've—"
"Stop." Laurel's voice was sharp as she turned to face her. "My dad did what he always does. He would step in front of a hundred bullets to protect his girls." Her voice wavered, emotion thick in her throat as she turned away, blinking rapidly.
After a moment, she turned back to the woman who wore her face. "He wants us to get along." She shook her head. "And I don't… I don't know how to do that."
"You don't have to—"
"Yes, I do." Laurel's voice was firm as she met Charlie's gaze. "I do because despite how I felt about you, despite everything you've done, he saw something in you that I couldn't. He saw who you truly are. My father risked his life for you, and now I have to figure out why."
A knock at the door interrupted them. Both women turned, a mixture of nerves swirling between them as the door swung open.
Sara Lance stepped inside, her sharp blue eyes scanning the room before landing on them. She exhaled, shaking her head slightly. "I don't think I'll ever get used to this," she admitted. Then, after a beat, she turned toward the woman on the left. "Charlie?"
Charlie nodded.
Sara's gaze flickered to Laurel before spotting the stroller. Her expression softened as she crossed the room. "And you must be Lance." She smiled down at the sleeping baby before looking back up. "Any news on Dad?"
Ethan stood against the wall, eyes closed, his fingers pressed against his forehead as he tried to will the anxiety away. The moment he heard the operating room doors swing open, his eyes snapped open.
Katie stepped out.
His stomach clenched as he took in her face.
And then, he braced himself.
Ethan's heart pounded as he searched Katie's face the moment she stepped into the hall. One look, and he knew.
She didn't have to say a word.
Still, she did.
"Ethan…" Her voice barely made it past her lips—shaking, raw.
His stomach turned to lead. "No." He took a step back, head shaking, even as she reached for him.
Katie struggled for words, though she knew she should have had them. This wasn't the first time she'd delivered news like this, but Quentin wasn't just another patient.
"I'm—" She closed her eyes, caught in the nightmare loop of the OR. "He had a seizure. He was out for seven minutes. The surgeons tried, but—" Her voice faltered as she met Ethan's eyes, drowning in grief.
She swallowed hard. "You have to tell Laurel. I'll tell the team."
Ethan gave a wordless nod before turning away, but then he stopped, frozen as the weight of it all crashed down on him. Quentin was gone.
Katie placed a hand on his shoulder, as they stood in the shared moment of quiet devastation before he finally walked off.
She stood there a little longer, willing herself to steady, to push past the tremor in her body and the lump in her throat. As a doctor, delivering this news required a level of control she had always mastered.
Katie took a few more deep breaths, forcing down the nausea twisting in her stomach and the overwhelming urge to break down. There was no time for that. Swallowing grief, she straightened her shoulders and finally walked off to find the team.
The team hadn't moved since Quentin was taken into surgery. The weight of uncertainty hung over them, thick and suffocating, as they sat in silence in the waiting room. Ari leaned against Oliver, her head resting on his shoulder, while Felicity sat beside her, Bruce on her right. Across from them, John, Rene, Curtis and Dinah sat, their eyes occasionally darting toward the double doors, waiting—hoping—for good news.
The sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. Heads turned as Agent Watson entered, two agents following her.
"Mr. Queen," Watson said, her voice firm yet unreadable. "It's time."
"Time for what?" Ari lifted her head from Oliver's shoulder, her brows knitting together in confusion. She turned to him as he rose to his feet. "What is she talking about?"
The team stood, glancing between Oliver and Watson, searching for an answer.
"I'm sorry that I haven't—" Oliver's voice faltered, emotion thickening his words. "Haven't explained this to everyone. There just… wasn't time."
He looked at Ari, her confusion cutting through him like a blade. His throat tightened, but there was no room for hesitation now. Without another word, he stepped forward, turning around as one of the agents secured the handcuffs around his wrists.
"You're arresting us?" Rene snapped, eyes locking onto Watson. "I thought you said we had immunity!"
"You do." Watson's reply was calm, but the weight of it landed hard. She gestured toward Oliver. "Thanks to him."
Ari took a step forward, her expression shifting from confusion to raw anger. "No," she breathed, shaking her head. "No, no, no. What the hell did you do?"
Oliver finally met her gaze, his expression one of quiet acceptance. "It was the only way."
"That's bullshit!" Ari surged forward, but John was quicker, grabbing her arm before she could close the distance. "There are a million other ways that don't involve this!"
"The judge threw out his case," Dinah said, her voice tight with frustration. "You can't do this."
"I can." Watson's tone was matter-of-fact. "It's federal. The bureau is staying in Star City until Diaz is brought in—but only if Oliver agreed to turn himself in."
At that moment, Katie turned the corner, exhaustion in every step. But she froze at the sight before her—Oliver, hands cuffed behind his back, standing amidst the team as Watson spoke.
"…but only if Oliver agreed to turn himself in."
Katie felt like the air had been knocked from her lungs.
The team turned, their expressions shifting as they remembered why they had been waiting in the first place. The weight of reality pressed down on them all at once.
Katie's eyes flickered to Oliver for a brief second before she turned to the others. She opened her mouth, but the words caught in her throat as tears burned her eyes.
"No," Rene whispered, his shoulders slumping as realization crashed over him like a tidal wave. "Don't say it."
Katie swallowed the sob rising in her chest, forcing herself to push forward. "Quentin had a seizure during surgery. He—he fought. He fought as hard as he could." Her voice broke, the tears now unstoppable. She turned to Oliver, as if seeking strength in the man she'd always known to be unbreakable. "The surgeons did everything they could, but…" She shook her head. "His brain was deprived of oxygen for seven minutes."
Her next words came in a whisper.
"He's gone."
The grief in the room became suffocating, an unbearable presence that settled in each of them, making it feel as though the ground beneath them had given way.
But Watson had pull then back to reality. "Unfortunately, this doesn't change our agreement."
Oliver barely heard her. He was still reeling, trying to process the loss of Quentin while grappling with what came next. He lifted his eyes to Katie, searching for something—reassurance, understanding, anything.
"All of you," Oliver said, his voice strained but steady. "Please take care of each other."
The agent at his side gave a small tug on his arm, and just like that, Oliver was being pulled away.
Hours passed in the interrogation room, where Oliver sat in silence. A lone agent stood outside the door, keeping watch, while Oliver's mind churned with everything that had transpired. Quentin was gone. Ari's face, Katie's tears—he would never forget them.
The door creaked open, and Watson stepped inside.
"Transport's delayed," she informed him. "We'll be transferring you in half an hour."
Oliver barely nodded, his mind still elsewhere. But then, Watson took a step back, allowing someone else to enter.
Katie.
Watson gave a final nod, before leaving and closing the door behind her.
Katie stood there for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then, her gaze flickered to the camera in the corner of the room, where a small red light blinked. She stared at it, silent, until the light suddenly cut out.
She turned back to Oliver.
"Let's go."
Oliver exhaled sharply but didn't move.
Katie narrowed her eyes, stepping closer.
"Get up."
It was an order—one Oliver would have followed without question under any other circumstances. But right now, he couldn't.
"I—I asked you," Katie said, voice shaking with restrained emotion. "I looked you in the eyes and asked if there was anything about this deal with Watson that I didn't know about. And you said nothing."
"There was so much happening, there just—"
"No," she cut him off, stepping closer. "No, Oliver. For this, you could've made time." Her hands slammed onto the table between them. "You didn't, because you knew exactly what I'd do. And you didn't want me to do it."
Her eyes burned into him, demanding, pleading.
"Now, get up. We're leaving."
Oliver shook his head. "And then what? We run? Watson arrests everyone—including you." His voice softened. "I think our kids deserve at least one parent."
Katie turned away, pressing a hand over her eyes.
"Twinkie—"
"During your trial, you said you didn't want to go public because you wanted a life after the Green Arrow." She turned back, her gaze searching his. "So let's have it. Just get up, and we can—"
"I wanted to stop Diaz," Oliver interrupted.
Katie's brow furrowed.
"And I wanted to protect you and the kids more." His voice cracked. "I—"
"I, I, I." Her voice rose, frustration and annoyance laced in every syllable. "Let's be honest, Oliver. You didn't do this for us. You did it again."
Her breath hitched as the tears spilled, and she didn't stop them.
"Just like so many times before, you decided the only solution was to sacrifice yourself. Because to you, you were the solution."
Oliver's chest tightened.
"Twinkie—"
"You chose to be the hero!" The words tore from her like a wound being ripped open. "You chose to be the hero over being a father. Over being my husband. And I will never forgive you for it."
The weight of her words crushed him, broke him. He felt the walls of his resolve caving in.
"Quentin and the protective custody I mentioned during the trial…" Oliver's voice was barely above a whisper. "Lyla's handling everything. I promise—just until Diaz is off the board."
Katie stared at him, her expression unreadable, but her eyes—God, her eyes—held devastation.
"You're going to be okay," he said, voice thick with the weight of the emotions plaguing him. "The kids are going to be okay because you'll make sure of it. You're the parent they need. The parent they can always depend on." His voice wavered as he dropped his head. "Twinkie, I didn't tell you because I was afraid you'd keep your promise."
He forced himself to meet her gaze.
"I knew that if I chose to take the fall, you would choose to save me. And I couldn't let you. So I took the choice away."
His breath caught as he swiped a tear from his cheek.
The room was silent—thick with words unspoken—until Katie stepped forward, crouched down, and took his hand in hers.
And then, she shattered him.
"I'm pregnant."
The words punched the air from his lungs, making him doubt every choice he's made.
Katie swiped a tear from her cheek and stood. "The kids are here to say goodbye."
Oliver barely had time to process what she'd said before she turned, opening the door. His head was spinning, her words looping in his mind. Pregnant.
His breath came unsteady as Will stepped in first, followed by Ari, who cradled little Robyn in her arms.
"Hey," Oliver rasped, emotion thick in his throat. His hands trembled as he reached for Robyn, pulling her into his arms, pressing a kiss to her tiny cheek. "How are you doing?"
Will hesitated before stepping closer. "I don't understand what's happening."
Oliver swallowed hard, nodding. His gaze flickered to Ari, whose red, puffy eyes told him she'd been crying for hours.
"I know," he said, voice breaking. "But I'm going to explain everything."
And so, he did.
Oliver told them everything—about the deal he made with Watson, what it meant for him, and why he had done it.
When he was finished, silence filled the room. No one spoke. No one moved.
Ari was the first to break it. She stepped forward, reaching for Robyn.
"We should get out of here," she said, her voice low with emotion. Then, with a sharp exhale, she added, "And you should get to prison, you idiot." She gestured for him to hand over the child.
Oliver hesitated. Instead of giving Robyn to her, he took a step forward, reaching to pull Ari into an embrace.
She stepped back.
"No." Her voice cracked, but she held firm. "I guess I won't get too much practice calling you Dad." Her gaze locked onto his, filled with betrayal, hurt, and something else—finality. She blinked rapidly, trying to stop the tears. "But I guess you'll get one more."
A pause.
"Goodbye, Dad."
Then she turned and stormed out of the room.
"Ari—" Oliver's voice rasped, but she didn't stop.
He looked down at Will, searching for something—anything—but Will just dropped his gaze, avoiding his father's eyes.
Katie stepped forward, placing a gentle arm around Will's shoulders, but the boy only shook his head.
"I'm gonna—" He gestured toward the door, his voice tight with unshed tears, before pulling away from Katie and following his sister out.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Oliver felt the tears coming before he could stop them. He quickly wiped them away and forced a smile as he turned to Robyn, the only one too young to understand what was happening.
"I want you to always remember that I love you." His voice was raw as he pressed another kiss to her cheek, holding her close for just a moment longer. Then, glancing over to Katie, the weight of her confession hit him again like a hammer.
Pregnant.
His throat tightened. "Twinkie—"
The door opened before he could say anything else.
Watson stepped inside, flanked by two agents.
"It's time."
Oliver looked at her for a moment, then nodded before turning back to Katie.
The impending distance between him and his family settled heavily on his chest.
The distance he had chosen.
Without a word, he walked over to Katie and gently placed Robyn in her arms, his hands brushing against hers. His glassy eyes locked onto hers, lingering in the fleeting moment before the cold grip of handcuffs wrapped around his wrists.
Then, everything moved too quickly.
Too quickly.
Before he knew it, Oliver was being pulled down the hall. He barely had time for one final glance at his kids before stepping outside, where the press was waiting.
A flurry of camera flashes.
"Mr. Queen, why are you being arrested again?" a reporter called out as Oliver came to a stop, the path to the transport van briefly blocked.
Katie stood nearby, holding Robyn tightly. Will and Ari leaned into her, watching him with wide, unreadable eyes.
Oliver took a slow breath. Then, for the first time, he did what he had never dared to do.
"I have voluntarily handed myself over to the FBI."
More flashes. More murmurs.
"Can you comment any further?" another reporter asked.
Oliver's jaw tensed. Then, with quiet resolve, he said the words that would change everything.
"Yes, I can."
A pause.
"I am the Green Arrow."
Gasps rippled through the crowd. The flashes became blinding.
Oliver took in the moment, let it settle.
"I realize that I've denied that claim with the same conviction with which I'm speaking now. I have let good people stand accused of things I've done. Roy Harper is not the Green Arrow. Tommy Merlyn is most certainly not the Green Arrow. Some of them gave their lives in the pursuit of one simple objective—to save our city."
He looked out at the sea of eyes watching him.
"Star City still needs saving. Last night, we dealt our enemy a critical blow, but there is still work to be done. So I'm looking to the people of this city. I'm looking to my allies, my friends, my partners. And I'm asking them to continue. To keep fighting."
He nodded, determination settling behind his eyes.
"I'm asking them to complete our mission. To save our city."
The reporters shouted more questions, but Oliver wasn't listening anymore.
He was already being pushed through the crowd, ushered toward the van.
One last look.
His gaze found his family again—Katie, Will, Ari, and little Robyn.
Then, the doors shut.
Darkness.
And the distance he had chosen finally closed in.
This was real.
No matter how many times Katie tried to push the thought away, it wouldn't leave her. It settled deep in her chest, making it harder to breathe. She sat with her eyes closed, focusing on the simple act of inhaling and exhaling.
"They're finally asleep."
Martin's voice pulled her back, and she opened her eyes to see him settling into the seat across from her.
Katie gave a small nod before turning to stare out the window of the plane.
This is real.
"The pilot said it shouldn't be much longer," Martin added, reaching for the briefcase beside him. "You should have everything you need here—IDs, birth certificates, social security cards for you and the kids."
Katie exhaled sharply, glancing at the case. "Should it surprise me how fast you pulled all this together?"
Martin lifted a brow. "I'd love to take the credit." He tapped the briefcase. "But your father truly did plan for everything."
A bitter smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "And was Smallville his idea?"
Martin chuckled. "No, that was me."
That got her attention. She turned to him with a skeptical look.
"Don't let the name fool you," he said, amused. "Smallville has some excitement underneath the cornfields."
Katie sighed, shifting her gaze back to the window.
She was on her own now. It was her responsibility to take care of their three children.
This was real.
Her breath caught as her hand slid over her stomach.
Soon, it would be four.
The warehouse was nearly silent, save for the rhythmic drip of water leaking from a rusted pipe in the corner. A single overhead light flickered, casting long shadows across the room. Ricardo Diaz sat at the metal table, a glass of whiskey in front of him, his fingers drumming against the surface in slow, deliberate beats.
The sound of approaching footsteps broke the stillness.
Diaz didn't look up right away. He simply smirked, reaching for his glass. "Took you long enough."
Marcus Vaughn stepped into the dim light, the edges of his sharp suit barely illuminated. He moved with an ease, but his eyes—cold and calculating—hinted at something much deeper.
"I like to make an entrance," Marcus said smoothly.
Diaz didn't look amused as he looked over to the man. Though Oliver Queen was headed to prison, his entire plans had been disrupted.
"I really don't have time for what ever this is." Diaz said taking another sip from his glass. "I was made to believe after the last conversation we had that you weren't into the whole team thing. Something about being burned before."
"Well circumstances have changed. For the both of us it would seem."
Diaz let out a snort, finally looking at the man before him. "You've been busy. The girl's life was picture-perfect until you burned it to the ground at that award ceremony. And now? Poof. Gone. Like she never existed." He swirled his drink, his jaw clenching. "Problem is, that's not good enough for me."
Marcus exhaled through his nose, a ghost of a smile playing at his lips. "Then we have something in common."
Diaz leaned forward, intrigued. "We do, do we?"He took another swig of his drink. "Look, I've had a shitty couple of days, so why don't you just tell me what this is all about. What did Katherine Queen ever do to you?"
Marcus's smile widened, but there was nothing pleasant about it. "She existed."
Diaz frowned slightly, but before he could press further, Marcus stepped forward, bracing his hands on the table between them.
"You lost the power you had over this city," Marcus said. "I lost everything else. My entire life, I was nothing more than a ghost to the man who built her world. And now? I'm here to burn it all down." He shrugs. "I realized I couldn't do alone. Annabelle was a dud, but I think E has promise. And you, well you got a certain je ne sais quoi that we could use."
Diaz tilted his head, studying him, sensing there was something more. Something unsaid.
Marcus straightened, adjusting the cuff of his sleeve. Then, with a smirk, he delivered the final blow, the words smooth but sharp like a blade sliding between ribs.
"Jacob Robins was a man who thought he could have it all. A beautiful family, a perfect life, a legacy that everyone admired. But he was hiding something—someone—no one could ever know about." He shook his head. "He thought keeping me away, he could protect her. He thought that she was the one he could pass his legacy on to." He lets that silence sit for a moment before he drops the truth like a bomb. "She was never the only one with his blood running through her veins."
His grin widens into something predatory. "The truth is our father made sure I'd never have a place in the world he built. So, now... I'll burn it all down." He held out his hand to Diaz. "Care to help me light the match?"
Author's Note
Um yeah...cliff hanger
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Adela: Thank you so much! I always appreciate your reviews.
And just like that we've reached the end of this journey. Whether you've been here from the start of joined somewhere along the way, thank you for every moment you spent in this world with me. Be on the lookout for the next story in this series that will dive into season 7.
Thank you!