Chapter 5: The Impossible

Monday, September 4, 2017

"We're landing in less than an hour," Oliver told Roy over the phone, glancing out the window to see twilight skies as the sun lowered far in the distance. He and Laurel had managed to fly through one entire night and were just arriving in Smiritz in time for more darkness. The fourteen-hour flight had felt interminable.

"You know where you're going?" Roy asked, his voice speaking to his own exhaustion. He had been up since the early morning fighting with Thea's medical team, taking a helicopter with Thea and Walter to Smiritz, and was still faithfully glued to Thea's side.

"I think we can find St. Balakaya," Oliver said. "Don't worry about us – we'll get there." There was silence in response. Oliver asked warily, "How is Thea doing?"

"Still sedated," Roy said. "But at least now we know she has toxoplasmosis and we can treat it." He sighed wearily. "This medical team is also a lot nicer," he added, "and they even have an English interpreter on staff. She's been super helpful."

"Do they know how she contracted toxoplasmosis?" Oliver asked, remembering that was the infection from cat feces that meant pregnant women weren't supposed to change litterboxes. It seemed highly unlikely that Thea had been cleaning out a litterbox on her European vacation.

"Probably through meat that wasn't cooked enough to kill it off," Roy said. "It sucks, too – Thea has been so careful with everything she's ordered since we've been here. Even when it's been hot out, she hasn't eaten salad or other uncooked vegetables. We haven't gone near any smoked or cured meats. I just … I don't know how the hell I'm supposed to keep her safe when everything out there could kill her!"

Oliver released a long sigh. He didn't have any better answers for Roy. But he was right – at least now they could treat the infection instead of just the brain swelling.

Oliver asked anxiously, "Have they given you any idea of what impact the swelling has had?"

Roy was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "We probably won't know – not until she wakes up. If she wakes up."

The reminder caused a stab of pain in Oliver's chest. He said firmly, "She'll wake up."

"Sure," Roy said despondently. "And who knows who she'll be when she does. She might not be able to talk, or to walk. She might not remember who I am, or have the mental capacity of a toddler. I have no frickin' idea. And I have no idea how the hell I'm supposed to deal with it if she does."

Oliver tightened his lips together, releasing a puff of air to ground himself before replying with more assurance than he felt, "If she wakes up and something is wrong … we will take it a day at a time."

Wednesday, September 20, 2017 – 2 weeks later

Roy was numb.

He stared directly ahead. There were sounds of talking around him, but his mind couldn't make sense of them. It was like the ringing in his head had become a permanent part of him. As permanent as the hollowness in his stomach and the feeling like he was floating everywhere he went, untethered to the ground.

Roy felt something in his hand and looked down, trying to understand what the feeling was. A hand was clasping his and he blearily raised his gaze to see a red-eyed Felicity, wearing a black dress with large, white flowers. She mouthed something to him, which Roy couldn't understand. He honestly couldn't find it in him to care that he didn't.

With a sudden pop, sound flooded back into Roy's ears, overwhelming him. His eyes raised to where Laurel stood in front of the chapel at a podium, doing her best to control her shaking voice.

"Thea – we love you. And we will miss you. We will miss your smile and the way that you loved each of us so well. We will miss the fun and the enthusiasm you brought to everything you did. You did more with your twenty-two years than most people do in a hundred. And I will forever be honored to have been counted as one of your friends. May you find rest with your parents and brother."

The words made Roy sick. This was all just sick.

How could they sit around, peacefully talking about Thea, when all of this, every single part of it was wrong? Was impossible?

How could he be expected to stand by while they buried his entire heart in the ground – as if she had never been there at all.

Ushers approached Roy, Oliver, Felicity, and Walter, leading them out of the chapel before they dismissed the hundreds of people who had showed up to pay their respects. As Roy stumbled up the aisle, Oliver's firm hand on his arm, guiding him, Roy noted that he didn't know anyone in the rows of seats after the first few. Who the hell were these people? These people wiping their eyes and sniffling tearfully? Some high school acquaintances? Some colleagues of her father's? Who were they to act like they had something to grieve?

As they approached the doors, Roy could hear the funeral director telling the gathered crowd that the burial was a private moment for close family and friends – if they had not received an invitation directly from the family, they were invited to leave their well wishes in the guest book on their way out.

This crowd of gapers and gawkers. These people who thought that they knew Thea Queen's struggles because they had read invasive tabloid slop about Thea's 'struggle with addiction'. Roy knew what the world thought: that Thea Queen had died of an overdose. A party girl who couldn't seem to give up the party before it killed her.

The injustice of their theories chaffed at Roy's already raw emotions. Thea had never cared what the tabloids or the public thought of her, but – Roy did. Roy cared that the entire world had never known the real Thea at all. That the words on everyone's lips when they remembered her would be, "Such a shame," and "Another rich kid bites the dust."

But they would never know … they would never understand. Just how strong she was. And how hard she had fought. And how cruel and unfair it all was. How it never should have happened this way …

Roy's car door opened and he looked wearily out at the sunny day sparkling over the cemetery. His heart dropped into his stomach as he spotted the open grave next to Moira Queen's headstone.

He hadn't realized that he had yet to move until he looked up to find Quentin Lance pulling him up and out of his seat. Once Roy was upright, Quentin said gently, "Do you wanna be a pallbearer? If you're not up for it, we've got enough hands."

Roy stared at Quentin, trying to get his mouth to engage. It felt bone-dry. Roy swallowed, trying to get some saliva in so he could speak. He said, "No – I'll help."

Quentin nodded, then let a firm hand drop against his shoulder consolingly, leading him back to the hearse. Gathered around the open cab door were Oliver and Walter, with Digg and Josh. Roy stared at them, unable to feel any kind of gratitude even though he knew he should; all he could see was the casket they stood around.

Thea's last journey. Before they buried her in the ground.

The funeral director provided brief instructions, and Roy stood opposite Oliver, grasping the brass handle.

As soon as he did, Roy's mind flashed to the fact that Thea was inside. His Thea. His world. His life. And Roy let go like he had been shocked. He gasped in a wave of sudden agony.

Laurel was immediately at his side, ushering him away from the casket and towards the open grave. Roy looked back and saw that Cisco had stepped up and taken Roy's place with the other pallbearers. Laurel brought Roy to a stop next to Felicity who reached out to tuck her arm around Roy's.

A minister said a few words about life to come – but all Roy could think was that he just wanted her here. How could he -? Who was Roy Harper without Thea Queen?

The minister invited the gathered mourners – the Queen's Jubilee team, Team Flash, Sara Lance, Team Arrow, and most of all, a silent, pale Oliver – to the casket for their last goodbyes.

Felicity tugged at Roy's arm until Roy looked at her. Felicity's eyes were bloodshot red and damp. She asked softly, "Can I come with you?"

Roy nodded silently. He allowed Felicity to walk with him as Oliver walked solidly on his other side. Oliver rested his hand over the place where Thea's head would be. And that's when Roy felt his legs give out.

Somehow Digg had been right behind – maybe he saw what was coming. But, leaving Felicity and Oliver to their moment, Digg helped Roy over to a folding chair. Digg dropped into a crouch in front of Roy. He asked seriously, "What do you need, man?"

Roy shook his head, unable to meet Digg's eyes. "I just want Thea," Roy choked out, before dropping his head onto his knees, body shaking as Digg rested one firm hand on his shoulder.

Friday, October 13, 2017 – 1 month later

Oliver looked towards the door at the sound of a knock. As the door pushed inwards, Laurel stepped around it and stood inside. She gave a slight smile and said, "Hi, Ollie."

Oliver pushed his office chair back from his desk and leaned back, placing his hands together on his stomach. He nodded once and watched her expectantly as she closed the door behind her, turning around, but failing to step deeper into the room.

"Josh was telling me about what he, Felicity, and Curtis found on Helix," she said, like she was trying to sound conversational, but her tone was heavy.

Oliver noted, "It sounded like it might be right up the District Attorney's alley."

Laurel nodded. "I've actually spoken with the police chief to start collaborating on an investigation. If there is a company within city limits charging people's insurance for medical supplies and then reselling those items to pocket the money, we need to act."

Oliver said, "You have the backing of the mayor's office." He looked off towards the window, adding, "The last place people who are already vulnerable should be taken advantage of is by their doctor's office."

Laurel gave a short nod in agreement. She stood in silence, studying the wall near Oliver's head.

"I kind of had a rough night last night," Laurel admitted softly. "I just really missed her. And it made me want to come check on you."

Oliver said nothing, but his eyes searched Laurel's. People at work had stopped asking him 'how he was holding up' weeks ago and no longer seemed interested in bringing her up. He could feel Digg's eyes rest on him in question every so often. He had stopped voicing, "How are you doing, man?" after Oliver had nearly bit his head off, demanding to know why everyone kept asking him that. And Felicity …

Felicity was at the point where she seemed to have as many good days as bad ones, but she hadn't been shy about telling Oliver that he acted like he wasn't even grieving for Thea at all. Hearing his wife telling him how he should act – how he should feel - after losing his sister, grated something inside him. But Felicity was due with their child in the next month, dealing with roiling hormones and discomfort, so Oliver would bite his tongue until it bled rather than letting lose his frustration at her.

Laurel must have sensed some of his thoughts in his silence – she had known him longer and better than anyone left living – and she said, "You have a lot of responsibilities. And a lot of our attention has gone into checking on Roy and Felicity. I just thought … maybe you needed to talk."

Oliver's stomach twisted as he thought about Roy. Roy had barely stepped foot outside of his and Thea's apartment since the day of the funeral. He was numb and vacant each time that they stopped by with dinner or to take out Scully. Honestly, the need to take care of Scully was probably the only thing getting Roy up every morning.

Instead of dwelling on his thoughts, Oliver asked in a low voice, "What happened last night?"

Laurel took the question as an invitation, and she walked the rest of the way into the office, taking a seat in front of Oliver's desk. Her eyes alighted on the pictures on his desk of Thea and the one of his family in Aspen.

She said, "I … accidentally washed her sweatshirt." Oliver cocked his head in confusion. Laurel gave a funny little smile that didn't make its way into her dull eyes. "It was one she always wore when we lived together, and it smelled like her. And somehow it ended up in the wash. I know it's stupid, but – it felt like I lost another part of her."

Oliver considered that. There had been a piece of a 'welcome home' cake for Roy and Thea left in his refrigerator. And Oliver and Felicity had carefully avoided moving that cake from its spot for the past month.

Then the mold started, a horrible white, foamy patch on the dark chocolate cake. And still, Oliver had left it. When he got back from work the next day, though – it was gone. And he had turned on Felicity demanding where it had gone. Felicity explained herself through tears that it wasn't safe to keep and Oliver had stormed out to work off some steam on the salmon ladder in the Bunker.

Just like Laurel, Oliver knew it was silly. It was just cake. It was a slice of cake that Thea had never even touched. But it was also a symbol – because the last time they had that cake, Thea had been with them, and well, and happy. Throwing it away felt like – throwing away a touchstone to a different time.

Oliver said softly, "I understand that."

They sat in comfortable silence, understanding without words. Thea was loved by many, but there was a special grief the two of them shared. The grief of having watched her grow up and then having lost her.

Laurel asked, "How are you doing? Really?"

Oliver released a deep breath. "Roy is … despondent. All Felicity wants to do is to talk about her and cry." Oliver struggled, trying to find the words. "I feel different. I feel … kind of relieved." He looked up to catch Laurel's eyes, expecting to find shock, or judgement. All he could see was empathy and understanding.

Oliver swallowed, explaining, "Thea didn't die in pain and she died when she was still relatively healthy. She was still in her right mind. She didn't suffer." Laurel nodded slowly, showing she was following.

"I wanted more time," Oliver reassured quickly. "Of course I did. But – the year since we learned about her HIV, we have all pushed to spend every spare moment with Thea. I grieved expecting the coming loss. Sat at her bedside when she was sick, wondering if this was the time we would lose her." He shrugged despondently. "The thing that had been hanging over our head for a year is gone. And I feel … relieved."

Oliver worried he had gone too far, saying the words aloud. He knew if he even breathed these thoughts in front of Felicity, he would be spending the night on the couch. Felicity was so fixated on the idea that they should have had more time.

But Laurel's face hadn't turned angry or judgmental. Her eyes remained soft and understanding. So, Oliver continued, adding, "In spite of that – I miss her. Desperately." He paused, feeling the pang of emptiness deep within his body. "I would take all of that pain, and fear, and worry back if it meant having her with us for even just a little bit longer." Laurel nodded.

"But," he said slowly, nearly despising the words, even as they came out of his mouth, "if the years ahead were going to be filled with more sickness, and pain, and her body and mind failing her – of her losing more and more of herself, then – maybe this was a blessing."

Oliver turned away to stare out the window, unable to look at Laurel. She had to be angry – she loved Thea. To hear her own brother admit that he was relieved by her death? She would hate him. And she should …

He heard Laurel take a sharp little breath before admitting, "I feel that way too, sometimes. But then I feel so guilty." She was silent and Oliver felt tears prickle at his eyes. "I think that we can miss that she's gone and want her back, even while we can be grateful for all that she was spared. This was all so messy and awful – I don't think there is a right answer for how we should feel right now."

Oliver turned his chair to look back at his friend. Laurel shot him a watery smile. Oliver asked, "Do you believe in something? After?"

Laurel said, "I don't know, Ollie. I'd like to think so."

Oliver nodded. "I think she's happy. And healthy." He thought of her favorite food from childhood – a food she had to give up when she was newly diagnosed. He added, "And eating sushi with Mom and Dad and Tommy."

Tuesday, September 5, 2017 – one month earlier

Thea's eyes opened and she blinked at the heaviness trying to pull them back shut. She peered around her seeing familiar faces on either side, framed by a wide, bright white room.

Roy stood by her head and she felt something gripping her right hand. She was certain Roy was holding on. He whispered with widened eyes, "Thea?"

Thea looked just past him to see Laurel standing, her arms tucked around her middle in an anxious hug. Thea blinked her eyes closed, then opened them, turning her head towards the other side of the bed. Walter sat stiffly in a chair by her knees, watching her with a serious, fixed gaze.

Then she drew her gaze up directly over her to see Ollie standing at her head. Ollie's brow was furrowed with his eyes locked on her.

Thea's own brow wrinkled in confusion as she asked in a whispy voice, clogged from disuse, "Ollie, what are you wearing?"

Ollie's eyes widened and he glanced down at himself. He looked back up and said, "It's Josh's sweater. I didn't have time to go home before Laurel and I got on the plane."

Thea muttered, "It feels like I am looking at some weird Josh/ Ollie mash-up." She tried to swallow the dryness down, before adding, "Josh's stuff is too cheerful for you - next time, take the time to bring your own clothes."

Thea closed her eyes, tired out from speaking so much and noticing how her head throbbed, making her stomach nauseous.

Thea heard a sudden sob and her eyes flew back open to see Laurel pressing a hand against her mouth, eyes overflowing. Thea looked up at Roy, noticing the wavering of his own lip. "What?" Thea asked.

"You're okay," Roy explained with a sniffle, voice sounding awed. "You're you."

"Who was I going to be?" Thea mused sleepily.

Oliver explained, "You had an infection in your brain. You've been unconscious since you started seizing in your hotel in Galatz."

"When…?" Thea asked trying to wrap her mind around the information.

"It's been more than forty-eight hours," Roy said shakily. "And there was a pretty good chance that it caused permanent damage to your brain."

"Oh," Thea noted, startled. "Is that why my head feels like it's being struck by a thousand tiny hammers?"

Walter said gently, "I will find a doctor to see about some pain relievers. It is good to see you awake and acting like yourself."

"Yes," Roy confirmed as Walter vanished into the hall. A tear trickled suddenly down his cheek. "God, Thea, don't do that to me again," he pleaded.

Thea shot him a drowsy smile through the pain. "I'm not going anywhere. We have too much to do."