Chapter 9: Culpability
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
In spite of Oliver's insistence that Felicity take it easy and rest with William, Felicity was in the kitchen, becoming progressively more frustrated with the pie crust she was making from scratch. Oliver's insistence was only partially because Felicity was a mere two weeks postpartum and was still recovering; but mostly because, of the two of them, Oliver had better baking skills.
Oliver finished buttoning William's onesie on the changing table after getting him into a clean diaper. Scooping his son into the crook of one arm, Oliver strode towards the kitchen. "Hon, do you need help?"
"No," Felicity sputtered angrily, even as tears prickled in her eyes. She dropped a mushy pile of pastry dough into a bowl in defeat.
"It looks like you may have overworked it," Oliver noted, trying to make his voice light.
"You think?" Felicity retorted. She grabbed the bowl in one hand, flinging open the door of the refrigerator with the other. She slammed the bowl onto a shelf and closed the door.
"Felicity," Oliver said in concern. "Are you okay?"
"Of course I'm not okay!" Felicity cried out. "I don't know how you are!"
Oliver felt bewildered. What could that mean? Had he missed some signs of postpartum depression? Maybe she wasn't bonding with William? Oliver glanced down at his son, trying to think of Felicity's interactions with their son.
No – Felicity always seemed smitten with William. Sure, she was still uncomfortable when he latched on to feed, but Oliver was told that was normal. William was up throughout the night, and both he and Felicity were a little on edge from the change in their sleep schedule, but that seemed pretty normal too.
Felicity leaned against the counter holding her hand against her forehead, staring at a little scrap of a recipe card with tears still welled in her eyes.
"What can I do to help?" Oliver asked. "I can run out and pick up a pumpkin pie for the dinner at Digg and Lyla's tomorrow. Or, really, Lyla told us we weren't supposed to bring anything, because we are still adjusting to William -"
"I am making the pie, Oliver," Felicity bit back. Her voice became suddenly vulnerable as she added, "I just don't understand how she made it look so easy."
Oliver felt something prick in the back of his mind, understanding beginning to dawn. He looked more closely at the recipe card Felicity was studying and, when he saw the handwriting, he understood. Slowly, Oliver said, "Felicity…"
Felicity said softly, "I just wanted to do this one stupid thing to keep her close, you know? It's only been two months and I can feel us all moving on. And that kind of sucks. But at the same time, somedays it still feels overwhelming, like it just happened yesterday."
Felicity swallowed thickly. "And with Thanksgiving tomorrow, I can't stop thinking about last year. When Thea was here, and Roy had just come home and it felt like maybe things would be okay. How is it possible that in less than a year …?" Felicity trailed off, unable to voice their loss.
A wave of grief washed over Oliver and he closed his eyes, remembering.
Thursday, November 24, 2016 – One year ago
"Okay," Thea instructed as Felicity watched. "The key is the dough needs to be cold, and your hands need to be cold. Then you move, quickly. No messing around to make it 'perfect'. Ready?" Felicity nodded.
Thea pulled a bowl with a perfectly formed ball of pastry dough from the refrigerator, setting it on the counter. Then she turned the sink water on cold and rinsed her hands, toweling them off. Felicity watched, fascinated, as Thea rolled the dough with a few deft movements, flipped the sheet of dough onto her arm, and then laid it out gently into the pie tin. Thea took a paring knife to trim the edges and then crimped the remaining dough with her fingertips. "Done!" she declared, "And back in the fridge until the filling is done!"
"Is one pie going to be enough?" Oliver asked, amused by the awed expression on Felicity's face as she watched his sister.
"Oh, this is the back-up, back-up pie," Thea noted as she returned to the sink, pumping hand soap onto her hands and sticking them under the faucet. "Roy helped me make an apple pie and another pumpkin yesterday."
"I got to eat cinnamon apples for dinner," Roy noted pleasantly from his seat at the kitchen island.
"How did you learn to make pie?" Oliver asked incredulously. This was the same girl that was unaware that the food chicken came from the animal chicken until she was ten. She grew up in the same household he did, where their meals magically appeared at the table by Raisa's hands. "You're a terrible cook."
"I am not!" Thea defended. Roy snorted. Thea shot him a look. "So, I'm not great, but you eat what I make!"
"I cook at least half the time," Roy corrected.
Thea shook her head, looking amused. She turned her focus back to Oliver and said primly, "But, to answer your original question: Raisa taught me. This is her crust recipe."
"You can just buy a premade crust from the supermarket," Oliver argued. "They taste the same."
Roy shook his head, expression saying he was eager for Oliver's downfall. "Oh, now you've done it."
Unexpectedly, Thea wasn't the first to rebut Oliver's derisive statement. "It does not!" Felicity cried out, clearly offended. Oliver threw his hands up in the air in concession, before returning to laying a narrow wooden board onto the kitchen table's base.
Felicity turned to Thea, her voice settling back to a conversational tone, saying, "And I'm going to need Raisa's crust recipe, Thea. It's always so flaky."
"If you've got a card, I'll write it out now," Thea offered. "Roy can get started on the pie filling – he's a pro by now." Roy instantly rose from his seat, ready to help.
"Oliver, that's not enough leaves in the table!" Felicity added, looking over to where Oliver had pushed the table back together. "We have, like, fourteen people coming today!"
"Has it occurred to you that we maybe have too many people we call 'family'?" Oliver groused without sincerity as he reached back down to yank on the table legs to pull the sides of the table back apart.
"Impossible," Thea said peacefully.
Wednesday, November 22, 2017
Oliver opened his eyes feeling the emptiness of his kitchen without his sister's presence. He said softly, even as his chest ached, "Making a pie isn't going to bring her back, Felicity. If it's too much -"
"It's this!" Felicity said, standing up straight and waving wildly at him. "This cold, detached thing that you do when I talk about her, acting like I need to move on!" She stared at him, eyes darting around his face, like she was searching for something.
"I know I loved her, but Thea was your sister, Oliver!" Felicity cried out emotionally. "She was the last living member of your family!" Felicity's eyes darted down to William, still tucked securely in Oliver's arm. "And she never even got to meet our son," she said, words thick. "And whenever I bring her up, you go quiet, or you change the subject!"
The accusations were too much for Oliver and he turned away, heart thumping painfully in his chest. Felicity directed a parting shot:
"Oliver, how is it that you can just forget about Thea?"
Oliver froze. How could he …?
He turned around, trying to keep his voice low so as not to scare the infant in his arms. "How can I 'forget about Thea'?" Oliver repeated incredulously as his wild eyes met Felicity's.
"Felicity, I think about her all the time." Oliver declared heatedly, the emotion burning painfully in his throat. "Sometimes I will feel okay for a second, and then something will remind me. Someone will knock on my office door, and, even though it has been over a year since we worked together, my brain tells me it's Thea. When I see Sin dressed as Arae. When I eat a burger because she died while we ate a fricking Big Belly burger."
He paused, gathering himself, and then choked out, "Or, or when I think of who we should call to hang out with after work, because for a year, the default was that we needed to spend time with Thea. When it's fricking Tuesday, because Tuesday will probably forever be 'infusion day' in my brain. I can't get away from the hole that she left behind, Felicity! And it feels like this gaping wound in my chest at all times and there is nothing I can do about it other than try to pretend to be okay for you and for William and for Roy!"
Tears coursed down Felicity's cheeks at his words as she approached him. "I'm sorry," she said, soothing him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't know. I just thought- "
"I know what you thought," Oliver said coldly. "You thought that I could just forget someone that I loved more than myself. God, Felicity, I would have given anything to keep her here, and you think that I can just move on?" He shook his head. "Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind – but I have a city who needs me, and a wife and son who need me, and I can't not be okay!"
Felicity reached out to take the hand he was gesturing with and grasped it. Oliver thought about pulling away, but didn't. "I know, I see that now," Felicity said quickly. "I'm so, so sorry. I know how much you loved Thea. And I am sorry you're still so hurt, I just - I just felt so alone."
At once, Oliver's anger dissolved into exhaustion. "You're not alone, Felicity. I just can't talk about it all the time like you do. It doesn't help me to say it out loud. I just … I just miss her."
Felicity nodded in understanding and wrapped her arms around him. Oliver breathed out, accepting Felicity's olive branch for what it was.
As he held his son close in his arm, his wife leaned into him in solidarity, Oliver's ears perked up – something was in the hallway outside.
Suddenly, the Loft's door blasted open in a spray of debris and smoke. A figure in black stepped into the Loft, barely visible through the smoke.
Oliver pressed William into Felicity's arms. His mind sped through scenarios – they were tens of stories up in the sky. Felicity and William would be unable to climb down the fire escape to get to help with these attackers pursuing them. The only way to keep them safe was –
"Take William upstairs," Oliver commanded. "Lock yourself in the panic room. Do not open the door and do not come out until you hear my voice or one of our friends." Felicity's wide eyes met his. He shouted, "Go!" and the words spurred Felicity into action.
Oliver stepped forward into a ready stance, covering Felicity's flight with their son. Three more black-clothed figures had joined the first. Oliver could easily see the chunky, white-faced watches on their wrists.
"William Tockman," Oliver said firmly. "I know you are the Clock King. And I know about Love and Beth." He lowered his voice and said, "I'm so sorry. But know that I intend to see Love and Helix brought to justice. The District Attorney is investigating their crimes, even as we speak."
One figure stepped forward and said drily, "That's good to hear, Mayor Queen, but that's not why I'm here. When Beth died one year ago, alone, wondering where her brother was, it wasn't just Dr. Love who was culpable."
Oliver froze, understanding and horror dawning on him. "I wrote to you, Mayor. I wrote to you, asking that you take pity on a dying child. And you said NOTHING!" Tockman roared.
Oliver felt the accusation deeply. Tockman had asked to be by his dying sister's side. If someone had ever tried to keep Oliver from reaching Thea when she needed him – Oliver knew what he would do.
Oliver looked at him sincerely. "I am sorry. I wish I could go back and find that letter. I wish I could do things over for you and for your sister."
Tockman waved to those behind him. Then he said, "The time for apologies is over, mayor. Now it is time to pay."
One figure lunged towards him, and Oliver easily countered the blow, shoving them back. While he was distracted, another began to run towards the staircase where Felicity had just vanished with William. Oliver darted forward, grabbing a kitchen chair and breaking it over the back of the running figure. The chair shattered in Oliver's hand with the force, and Oliver chucked the chair leg in his hand so it nailed another in the head.
Tockman walked the long way around, through the kitchen and past the island, his focus on the set of stairs. Oliver slid over the floor and grasped the ceramic pie plate Felicity had taken out of the cabinet and threw it like a frisbee. It came into contact with Tockman's stomach, causing him to keen over.
Suddenly, something was on Oliver's back. Oliver reached over his shoulder, grasping a chunk of the attacker's shirt, preparing to yank the figure off of him when something struck his legs, bringing Oliver to the ground.
As Oliver's shoulder hit the floor, he rolled, knocking the figure from his back to the floor. Oliver wrapped his hands around the attacker's throat, trying to choke them into unconsciousness. He didn't want to kill these people – these men and women who had been victimized by Dr. Love and Helix. But he also needed to protect his family.
As the eyes of the person in front of him closed, Oliver leapt up, face to face with another figure. Oliver could see their eyes dart in the direction of the stairs, and Oliver's heart stopped. Oliver grabbed the person in front of him, and slammed their head against the kitchen island, watching as they slumped to the ground. He turned to see Tockman and the other Clock Watcher had mounted the stairs.
Oliver roared and sprinted their way. He leapt with one foot off the couch, the next step glanced off the wall pushing him further up. He grasped the staircase handrail. Oliver vaulted over the railing and landed in front of Tockman and the final Clock Watcher.
Oliver gripped the Clock Watcher by their collar and tossed them over the handrail, seeing out of the corner of his eye that they landed with a thud onto the couch, then the floor. Tockman began to pull something out of a holster.
Oliver leapt forward, tackling Tockman, and the two of them rolled and crashed down the stairs to the Loft's main level.
Oliver lay still for a moment, trying to get his bearings from his jarring descent. He slowly regained his feet and saw Tockman lying still nearby.
Oliver stepped quickly over to the man when there was a sudden crack.
Oliver stared down the barrel of Tockman's gun in surprise. He felt nothing for a moment.
Then his chest was consumed by a flaming pain. Oliver tilted his head down to see his shirt just above his heart blossoming with a bright red stain.
Oliver's legs gave way beneath him and Oliver collapsed beside Tockman. His mind raced, trying to understand. Tockman slowly stood up beside him and then stood overtop, staring down at Oliver. He tugged his mask off to reveal his even expression, only altered by the beady, excited eyes behind a pair of thin-framed glasses.
Oliver gasped out, "Please – you wanted me. Leave my wife and son alone. They are innocent!"
Tockman stated quietly, "I read that your sister died." Oliver's eyes sparkled at the reminder. "So you already know how I feel," Tockman noted. Oliver shook his head unsure what he needed to do to keep Felicity and William safe. He would do anything. Say anything.
Tockman watched the blood that had begun to pool underneath Oliver. "Mayor Queen," Tockman said softly, "When you see my sister – tell her you're sorry." He then turned and slowly walked out the shattered door to the Loft.
Oliver could hear the groans of the Clock Watchers, slowly regaining their senses and exiting behind their leader, leaving Oliver alone.
Oliver gasped into the silence. He could feel a wetness with each breath he drew in, stealing away his air. Help wouldn't arrive in time. He could feel it in the coldness that began in his fingers and toes, working its way inwards.
Part of him longed to see Felicity again, one more time – but he had told her to stay locked away with William. She wouldn't come out – not if William was at risk.
Suddenly a vision filled Oliver's eyes. Short, wavy, brown hair framing two gray-green eyes that searched into his soul. Eyes he had not looked into for so long. Eyes he had not seen since –
"Thea," Oliver breathed out through the pain. She had come – she had come to be with him as he breathed his last. He remembered how Thea had seen Moira in the months leading up to her death. Seeing Thea before him made him think again that Thea had not been imagining their mother: Thea really had seen their mom preparing her to bring her home. And now he would have the same with his much longed for baby sister.
Oliver was prepared to follow her: to follow her to where his mother and father waited. Where Tommy waited. Thea reached down to take his hand in hers. He was shocked when it felt solid.
But why should he be shocked? He was going with her. Oliver let a soft smile settle over his face as he felt a soothing sense of peace in his sister's warm presence.
Then Thea spoke, sending a shock through his system. "Ollie, you have to come back to your family. Felicity needs you – your child needs you. You can't just give up."
She was right – how could he leave Felicity? Leave William? How would Roy cope with another loss? How would Laurel?
Oliver could feel his strength seeping out of his body. But he didn't have a choice. He was going with Thea. His family would be okay – he would watch over them from wherever it was he was going.
Oliver forced his weakened hand to squeeze Thea's. He said softly, "It was all worth it if it means I get to see you." His eyes searched hers, hoping she could understand. "You taught me that sometimes things don't go like you think they will, but that – you just have to be thankful for the time you did have." Tears squeezed from his eyes as he imagined his wife grieving for him while caring for their infant. His little William whom he had only just met.
"Ollie," Thea said sadly, her own eyes shimmering. Oliver wanted to erase the pained look from her features. He hadn't seen her in so long, and he only wanted to see peace on her face. "That's great, but sometimes you do have a choice. Maybe I don't get that choice, but you … you do."
Thea's words took him aback. What could she mean? He didn't have a choice. He could feel it in the coldness seeping into his extremities, the way his heartbeat was sluggish. There was no one coming – no one knew he was here.
Suddenly, a sound caught his attention. It was Digg. He was yelling over his shoulder as he entered the Loft, "I've got him! He's this way!"
Oliver turned to look at Thea in desperation. They were coming to save him, and when he was saved, he wouldn't see Thea again. There was so much that had been left unsaid when she had collapsed on that hospital bed. So many things he realized about his little sister and what she meant to him.
Oliver grabbed at her arm desperately and said, "I'm not ready to go back." Thea's eyes filled with tears. "Thea – I can't do this without you." She started to shake her head sadly. "Please," Oliver begged, warmth trickling down his cheeks. "Please, Thea, don't make me."
Thea pressed a hand against his cheek and said with a warmth that filled his chest, "I have been with you the whole time. I haven't left your side – and I never will, okay?" Oliver shook his head, as tears fell down his face stinging his mouth with salt.
Thea pressed something into his hand. Drawing in heaving breaths, Oliver brought his hand up to peer at it: the hōzen. Thea said firmly, "It doesn't matter what comes next, my heart is always with yours: my heart in yours."
Oliver shook his head, the physical pain in his chest replaced by the Thea-shaped hole in his heart. No – he couldn't close his eyes and open them back to a world without her.
Thea seemed to understand, whispering, "Now it's time to come home to your family, okay? Everyone is waiting for you. You just need to close your eyes and trust me."
Oliver's face was wet with tears. He choked out breathlessly, "I love you, Thea."
Thea placed a kiss on his forehead. "I love you too, Ollie. Always."
Oliver felt his eyes close, surrounded by her presence.
