DISCLAIMER: The Arrow characters are the property of Warner Brothers Television,
Berlanti Television, and DC Comics Studios. The story contents are the creation
and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2014 by Djinn. This story is Rated
PG-13.
He Needs You
by
Djinn
Laurel
sat by her father's hospital bed, holding his hand but not saying anything as
the monitors beeped and the rasp of the respirators went on in a soothing
rhythm. He was going to be all
right. The doctors seemed sure of
it. He'd wake up soon, they said. When his body was ready.
Sara
sat across from her; a crewman on the ship had heard her cries and told Sara something
was wrong. Sara and Nyssa had been
there, helping to stabilize her father in ways she couldn't.
Why
did Sara know so much more about basic life-saving than she did? When had the little sister surpassed the
older?
The
jacket Sara had given her felt tight as she sat, constricting like it was a
snake intent on ending her. She shrugged
it off.
"You
okay?" Sara didn't seem to miss
much anymore.
"You
said Oliver would need me."
"He
will." Sara's voice was full of the
strange calm she never used to have, and again Laurel felt like the younger
sister.
"Where
is he, then?" Her tone turned into
a whine and she winced.
"He's
making sure Slade won't hurt anyone else."
"He,
just Oliver. Or he and
that...Felicity?" That woman that
Slade was going to kill instead of her—not that Laurel wanted to be the one
with the blade at her throat, but maybe she did, if it meant Oliver would love
her again. Or maybe he'd never really
stopped. She'd never stopped; why should
he?
"She's
really nice." Sara's voice was the
one that she'd used years ago with Dad to divert attention from a broken plate
or her boyfriend sneaking out of the window.
"Mmm hmmm. And you
didn't answer my question." She met
Sara's eyes. "Why would you tell me
he's going to need me if he's already got her?"
Sara
didn't look away. "Because you're
his friend. And he needs all the friends
he can get."
"His
friend." Laurel closed her
eyes. "And she's...more?"
Sara
seemed to have to think about that, and her smile changed, as if she liked this
Felicity—maybe in the way she liked Nyssa.
Laurel had a sudden vision of Oliver and her sister and the IT girl in
some crazy threesome. Three blondes
getting it on while fighting crime.
And
Laurel out in the cold. Not that she
wanted to share Oliver. She'd never
wanted to share him. Was that the
problem? Could he not be faithful to one
woman, even now when he'd changed so much?
"She's
important to him, Laurel. In ways that
really have nothing to do with romance right now."
"So,
you aren't jealous of her?"
"I
left Oliver, not the other way around.
I'm not good for him. He
needs...someone brighter, sunnier."
"And
you think I define that?"
Sara
smiled. "Once upon a time, before I
took off with your boyfriend and this whole lost on an island thing happened,
you were the sunnier of us."
"No." Laurel shook her head, remembering how
serious and studious she'd been when they were younger, how impish her little
sister had been. "You were the
sunny one, Sara. And I think you still
are, black leather outfits notwithstanding."
Sara
laughed. "Hey, you've got the
jacket. Or don't you want it
anymore?"
Laurel
shrugged. "It won't make me
you. Or...her."
"It
wasn't intended to make you anyone: it's just a jacket. You and Oliver have history. You need to work out what that means now with
all that's happened. Now that you know
who he really is." She stood. "I'm going to get some coffee. You want?"
"No,
I'm okay." Laurel saw a dark figure
cross in front of the small glass window on the door to her dad's room. "She's still here?"
"She
loves me."
"Do
you love her?"
"I
do."
Laurel
frowned. "As much as you love
Oliver?"
Sara
sighed. "She's better for me. And I won't pull her down into my
darkness. She already lives there. Heir to the demon and all that."
Laurel
laughed at the expression on Sara's face.
"Does she ever get tired of saying that?"
"She
really doesn't." Sara walked around
the bed and kissed Laurel on the forehead.
"Okay, I'm going to take Nyssa outside. I'm sure she's unnerving
the hospital staff."
Laurel
laughed softly and waved her off, was left with the hiss and beeps of the
machines.
Where
the hell was Oliver?
##
Felicity
got comfortable in the back seat of the plane Oliver had insisted on flying and
watched him work the controls. She was
still shaken by all the things that had happened. All the ways they'd beaten Slade and saved
the city. Without death.
Well,
except for Isabel. Was it horrible to
say she wasn't crying any tears over that death? And it wasn't Oliver who did it, just
super-assassin Nyssa, so really not like it was Felicity's problem.
John
asked Oliver something she couldn't hear over the engines, so she didn't try to
listen, just settled in and thought about the night—that night. All the things.
Not
the love thing. Well, she'd think of
that eventually because it was Oliver who said it, even if he didn't mean it,
but he might have meant it—what with the "we both sold it"
comment. And the way he looked at
her—really looked at her—that night
at the house and just a while ago on the beach.
But
it wasn't the "I love you" she wanted to think about it. It was that he, Mister "I must do
everything myself or I will again fail this city," had left it up to her
to stop Slade. He'd trusted her that much.
No
one had ever trusted her that much. She
wasn't sure Oliver had ever trusted anyone that much.
She'd
been terrified Slade would frisk her, would find where she'd stashed the hypo,
but he'd been so sure he'd gotten her right out from under Oliver's nose, he
hadn't looked.
Not
very smart. Felicity would have freakin' cavity-checked a prisoner. She didn't trust anybody not to be carrying a
weapon after all this time working with Oliver.
Being
Oliver's...partner.
The
partner that took down his nemesis. His
idea, though. Brilliant, even if she'd
suggested letting Slade outfox him.
She'd never thought he'd run in that direction with it.
Do you understand? The feel of a hypo being pushed into her
hand. The knowledge of what he was
giving her.
She'd
felt a thousand feet tall. She could do
this.
Laurel
had glared at her nonstop as Sara got them out of the building once Felicity
had stabbed Slade with the cure. It was
probably safe to say that Laurel hated
her now.
And
Felicity didn't think Oliver had filled Laurel in on it being a ruse before
they left for the island. As far as
Laurel knew, Felicity was the woman Oliver loved—but no, Sara would know the
truth.
Sara
would tell her.
Sara
understood everything.
Felicity
was going to miss Sara so much, even if she'd started out a little jealous.
"You
okay back there, champ?" Oliver's
voice. So dear. And the name—Felicity laughed at it.
"Fine
and dandy. Where's the inflight drink
service? Or peanuts. Although allergies sort of put the kybosh on
those, eh? Now we're stuck with
pretzels, which I'm sorry but if you're watching your carbs
they're so not the thing."
She
heard both men laugh. She was babbling:
all was right in their world.
Truth
to tell, she'd babbled on purpose for them this time. Just to make them happy.
That's
what family did.
##
Sara
sat with Nyssa in the sunshine, on a bench in a park across from the
hospital. She hadn't gone outside just
to stop Nyssa from her "scowl and stalk" routine. Sara had been feeling cooped up, feeling like
she needed to do something—anything, until her dad woke up.
"Why
are you encouraging your sister to seek out Oliver? Is it your wish for her to take your place as
a vigilante?"
"Why
are you listening at doors?"
"I
have very good hearing. I didn't try to
overhear—neither on the dock nor just now.
She would make a terrible assassin."
"Yeah,
I'm pretty sure she'd aim more for hero."
Sara laughed. How much training
had it taken her or Oliver to get this far?
Laurel could hold her own at times, but she was years and a world of
adversity away from donning a mask and kicking bad-guy ass. "Besides, I don't want her living in our
world. Yours, mine, Oliver's. You know me better than that."
"I
know you are not always kind, little Canary." Nyssa leaned in and nuzzled her ear. "I also know how Oliver and Felicty Smoak, MIT Class of oh nine, look at each
other."
"Okay,
possibly my favorite thing she's ever said.
And she's said some great things.
She backs down for no one."
Sara laughed and reached for Nyssa's hand. "A long time ago, Laurel made sure that
I couldn't be with Oliver. Not just by
preventing me from getting to him but by taking him first once Dad grounded
me—thanks to her narcing me out."
Nyssa
sat back, waiting. Tales of revenge
weren't shocking to her.
"Oliver
needs light in his life."
"Your
sister is not light. She is...gray. Mired in wanting to be something other than
what she is."
"I
know. I hope she finds that person she
wants to be."
Nyssa
frowned. "Then why...?"
"Oliver
still has feelings for her. But he loves
Felicity. I'm pretty sure he knows he
loves her, but he's held back. The old 'I
must not endanger those I love' shtick."
"And
yet he let her deal with Slade."
"And
that, I think, will be the turning point."
Sara smiled. "I could have
loved her. Maybe them both together. If things had been different. If my heart weren't spoken for." She smiled at Nyssa. "I love you, you know."
Nyssa
got the soft look she rarely wore.
"I was...not sure."
"I
know. I'm sorry. It was good to be with Ollie. Because now I know that I don't belong with
him. We fight well together, but just
being us...that would never work. Laurel
will find that she may love him, may get him in her bed, but she has no place
in the Arrow's world. Even wearing my
jacket." Sara smiled, a bit nastily
she knew. "Maybe especially with my
jacket."
"So
like a poison, he will get her out of his system?"
"Exactly. And meanwhile, Felicity will still be
here. Loving him. Never forcing it. And knowing he trusted her more than any of
us. He could have tried to make Slade
think I was the one he loved, but he didn't.
It never occurred to him, I bet.
They'll be good together. She
makes him smile the way he used to, when he was rich and spoiled and young and
the whole world lay ahead of him."
"And
that is good?"
"He's
not going to be that guy again—that's not what I mean. Just...it's nice to see him open up, to see
him...happy. She makes him happy and
Laurel won't, not for long."
"And
then you will have paid her back?"
Sara
nodded. Even if her running off with
Oliver on the Queen's Gambit had
probably been payback enough. But since
that hadn't ended well, and they'd been separated early on, she'd never felt
like it had completely put paid on the issue.
"And
more importantly, then my sister can move on, just as I have. The Lance girls do not need Oliver
Queen."
"No,
I imagine Oliver Queen needs the Lance girls far more than you need
him." Nyssa smiled. "Or you, at any rate. Your sister will show her true self in
time."
"Yeah. I've seen a lot of versions of Laurel since
I've been back. I'm not sure any of them
are the real her."
"For
some, the road to self-awareness is a slow one.
You and I took the lightning path."
Sara
laughed. "And boy doesn't my body
feel like it. My aches have aches."
"I
can fix that." Nyssa's voice was a
purr.
"And
you will." Sara stood up. "Once my dad wakes up."
##
Felicity
paused midway down the stairs and felt Oliver stop behind her—he was always so
attuned to her, well, to anyone, but especially to her. Should she read more into that than what it
probably was: him protecting the one person who could do jobs he couldn't?
"What
is it?" His breath, in her ear, so
warm. Had it always been so warm?
And
was she going to spend every waking minute analyzing what he was doing and
why? Not that she hadn't before, but it
was more on the "I like you and you'll never like me back that way"
scale and now, suddenly, she wasn't sure.
Slade took Laurel
because he wants to kill the woman I love.
He took the wrong woman. I love
you.
And
then he'd pressed the syringe into her hand and asked her if she understood,
because this was not, in any way, Oliver telling her everything she'd
fantasized about him saying to her. It
wasn't.
"Felicity?"
Did
he have to sound so damn sexy? And
there, his hand, on her shoulder—what was it with him and her shoulders? As shoulders went they were fine, but
still. Should she read into it?
No,
what she should do was answer him. She
turned to glance up at him. "Home
trashed home." Then she made her
"I hate cleaning the lair up" face.
And
he laughed. Because he hated to clean it
up, too, and somehow John had managed to sneak out of it.
"Dig
sure picked the right night to do his own thing."
She
frowned, biting her lip the way she did whenever a computer wasn't doing what
she wanted fast enough. "There's
something going on. With Lyla, I think. I don't mean they're together, because obs, right?
But...something he's not saying."
Oliver
smiled. "He was going to tell us
something. Then..." He shook his head. "He'll tell us when he's ready. Not all secrets are bad." The look he gave her was the tender one she
lived for.
It
was tender, right? She wasn't just
making that up especially since he said he loved her. Only not really. Damn it all.
He
tapped her forehead. "A lot going
on in there."
"I
hate cleaning."
"That's
not what's going on in there." He
took her arm, urged her down the stairs, and they began to right overturned
chairs and tables, and he helped get her equipment up so she could see what was
ruined and what just needed to be reconnected.
"Do you want to talk about it?" His tone was super casual, but the way he
looked back at her, it was the same look he'd had after he'd slept with Isabel.
Because of the
life that I lead, I just think that it's better to not be with someone that I
could really care about.
But
then his expression changed, and he looked around the lair and back at her, and
he seemed to be saying, "Just help me clean this place—our home—up. Just be with me and not make me
explain."
"No. We can talk later." She grinned, the grin that let him of the
hook, and he closed his eyes for a moment, but she wasn't sure if it was in
relief or disappointment. She decided to
give them both a break and find a new subject.
"So, about Dig. I think it's
something big and that's why he doesn't want to tell us yet. You don't think he's leaving, do you? Joining Lyla in Argus?"
"No." He stopped and looked over at her. "Do you think so?"
She
shrugged. "Something's going on
there."
He
nodded, then he started laughing.
"How many bottles of nail polish does one person need?"
She
looked where he was working, saw that her desk drawer had been tossed, all the
bottles falling, some breaking. Shit,
some of that stuff was expensive. "Gonna need a lot of acetone to clean that up."
"We
could call it floor art." He tried
to pull the bottles out of the spilled polish but they were stuck. "Or not."
His
phone beeped and he pulled it out, gave it a quick look, then stood up. "I have to go."
"Oh. Okay."
"Detective
Lance is in the hospital. He was hurt
worse than we thought."
"Oh,
no." She liked Lance. A lot.
"Go."
He
slipped the phone back into his pocket.
"Laurel sent a text."
"Sure,
that makes sense. We were out of the
country with our phones off some of the time—and super crappy reception on
Minefield Island."
"Sara's
there, too."
"Ooh,
then the heir to the demon can't be far behind."
He
laughed. "Right."
"Go,
Oliver. Go be with them. They need you. I'm going to leave this till morning,
though. Or is it already
morning?" She checked her
watch. "I have no idea what time it
is now—is it night? It was dark when we
came in, right?"
He
nodded. "Come on, I'll walk you
out." He held out his arm.
She
took it and tried not to read into the gesture.
Almost
succeeded.
##
Laurel
heard a soft cough at the door, looked up and saw Ollie. She smiled and held her hand out. "He was hurt so bad. I didn't know or I'd have made him get it
checked out."
He
came to her, took her hand, and squeezed it gently. "None of us knew how badly he was
hurt. I doubt he did."
"No,
you're right. He didn't." She wasn't sure what to say to Oliver now
that he was here. At least he was here
alone. "Where were you?"
"Dropping
Slade off in a prison he won't escape from."
"Went
alone?" God, could she sound any
needier?
"No. Diggle and Felicity came, too. They're my team, Laurel."
"You
made that clear before." Not that
it had kept her out of the fight—had she made things better or worse for
him? The fight wasn't her natural place,
unless it was in a courtroom. "Sara told me you set Slade up. With Felicity. How you felt about her."
"I
did set him up. He couldn't resist
taking her."
She
noticed he wasn't saying he didn't love Felicity. Then again, he wasn't saying he did, either.
"Here's
what I don't get, Ollie. I've known you,
and pushed for you, and loved you for years.
You've known her...what? A
year? Two? How come she gets to know the real you and I
had to chase after shadows? How many
times could you have told me the truth?"
"You
didn't want to know. Why would the Arrow
care that much about protecting you? It
was right in front of you the whole time.
But I know why you didn't see it.
I know how I used to be when I was that spoiled rich kid—nothing like a
hero."
"Or
a killer." She regretted those
words as soon as they were out. "I
mean, I know you're trying not to be."
"But
that's still where you go first."
He took a deep breath and let go of her hand, walking over to the chair
Sara had vacated and sitting down.
"How's your dad really?"
She
knew she could refuse to answer, could make him stay on the topic she wanted to
discuss. But she also knew that
Ollie—whether the old one or this new, more serious one—didn't like to be
pushed into a corner when it came to talking about his feelings. Or his failings.
"They
think he'll be okay." She suddenly
felt cold, and pulled Sara's jacket around her shoulders.
"Did
you steal that from Sara?"
"Well,
she stole you from me, so it would be fair, wouldn't it?" Shit.
Not what she'd meant to say. She
needed a meeting so bad it hurt. Had
been headed for one with her dad when he'd collapsed. Hadn't been to one while they kept this vigil
next to his hospital bed.
She'd
kill for a damn drink.
"She
gave it to me, Ollie. Parting gift, only
she didn't leave, not with Dad injured.
She's still here with Nyssa, Princess Warmth."
Oliver
actually laughed. "Yeah, not my
favorite person."
"For
several reasons, I'm sure. She's taking
Sara away."
He
shook his head, not looking away.
"Sara left me."
"So
you're free."
His
nod was sort of this weird, half-crooked thing.
As if he couldn't decide how to answer that.
"Do
you love your Felicity?" Directness
used to be one of her better qualities, why not try it again here.
"She's
important to me." Oh, so much
unsaid in that word: important.
"But
Slade took me first. He thought I was
the one you loved. Why would he think
that, Ollie? You were sleeping with Sara
last he knew. Why not pick her?"
"On
the island, when I met him, I had your picture.
I...when things got hard, I'd pull it out."
"Oh." She took a deep breath. Did that make her feel better? She didn't think so. It just made her feel
more, and feeling too much was what made her drink in the first place.
"Ollie, I'm so glad you're here but...I really need to go to a
meeting. There's one down the
street. Would you stay with Dad? Until I get back?"
"Of
course. Laurel, yes."
She
reached across the bed and clasped his hand tightly. "I want to be good for you, like we used
to be. I want to be...your
sunshine." She tried to smile, but
her mouth was shaking. "And I
really need to go."
"I'll
be here as long as you need me."
"Or
until another crisis calls?" Was it
smart to leave her dad with him? Then
again, Sara was around here somewhere.
And she was back in the assassin business, apparently.
Life
was so much easier without these stupid secret identities.
##
Sara
walked into her dad's room and was surprised to see Ollie sitting in her
chair. "Hey."
"Hey." His smile was gentle. "I'm so sorry this happened."
She
shrugged and sat down in Laurel's chair.
"He was in the fight. You
know how he is. It's where we get
it."
He
laughed. "Yeah, I think you're
right." He reached across the bed
and took her hand when she reached back.
"I miss you."
"I
miss you, too. But it's better this
way."
He
let go of her hand. "Okay."
"It
really is, Ollie. You and me...we're
just darkness squared."
He
laughed, but it was the bitter puff of air that meant he wasn't amused so much
as just accepting a painful truth the best way he knew how.
"Did
you give Laurel your jacket?"
"Yep."
"Did
you give her your mask and wig, too?"
She
liked that he sounded mad—as much as she wanted to pay Laurel back, she also
wanted to keep her safe and help her stand on her own. They were goals at cross purposes, but Sara
understood herself enough to know it was how she felt. "No, I didn't. I wouldn't.
She's not ready. Felicity is more
ready."
They
both smiled at the idea.
And
that was why, someday, Oliver would find his way to Felicity. Because no one else made him smile that way.
"Don't
let Laurel into our world any more than you have to, okay?" She took a deep breath. "She'll want to help, and she may be
able to—the prosecutor's office has a bit of a vacuum after Slade's goons got
done rampaging in city hall. But...don't
let her become me, or her version of me.
Just...be her friend. She needs
you."
More
than Oliver needed Laurel, truth be told.
"I'll
always look out for her."
Sara
heard the unsaid, "No matter who I'm with" and smiled softly. "Where is Laurel, by the way?"
"A
meeting."
Sara
leaned back. It was in her nature to
think that meetings were weakness. That
booze was too. But then she'd let
killing become her addiction, moving around, never having to be herself became
another one. This time, choosing her own
path, being just herself, maybe she'd need a meeting for that?
"How's
Thea holding up? Without your
mom." She couldn't imagine how
Oliver felt, watching Slade run his mother through, presented with the same sick
choice that had gotten Shado killed.
"Thea
left town. I'm not sure where she
is. I hope she'll call me when she's
ready."
"She
will. She loves you. I heard an earful working as a bartender for
the club. Boss lady was exasperated with
you but it was clear how much she cared."
"I
hope you're right." He yawned, the
kind that meant he'd been up way too many hours.
"Go
home, Ollie. I've got this."
He
started to protest and she cut him off.
"Go home. This is a Lance problem." She grinned at him, and he finally stood up
and walked around to her side of the bed.
"I
love you, Sara."
"I
know." In his way, he probably
did. She lifted her face and felt his
lips soft on hers. "I love you, too, Ollie." Enough to walk away when that was what was
good for him. "Now go home and get
some sleep."
It
was only once he was gone that she realized he had no home anymore.
##
Felicity
was half asleep when her phone rang with Oliver's ringtone. She fumbled for the phone, putting it to her
ear but keeping her eyes closed.
"Please tell me there's not another crisis."
"There...sort
of is."
She
sat up. "What now?"
"I...I
don't have anywhere to go. I mean I
will. I'll get an apartment. Or normally I'd sleep in the lair or the back-up
lair."
He
was babbling like her on a semi-coherent day.
"Oliver,
I have a couch. Come over."
"Thank
you." He ended the call without
saying anything else.
He
was at her door about fifteen minutes later; she'd heard his motorcycle
outside. Had put a sheet over the couch
and piled it with several blankest and pillows.
He smiled and said, "Thank you."
"Quit
saying that. I owe you at least for the
mine you saved me from, if nothing else." She studied him. "You look like you're going to
drop. Bathroom is that way, my bedroom
is that way if you need me, kitchen fridge is in there if you want something to
eat."
"I'm
fine." His eyes were half lidded
and he looked exhausted.
She
pushed him down onto the couch, let him pull off his shoes and get comfy, and
then she settled the blankets over him.
"Good night," she murmured, fighting to not lean down and give
him a kiss.
He
was half asleep, but he grabbed her hand.
"I'm always safe with you."
"Always." She squeezed his hand, then set it down on
top of the blanket. He was out in seconds.
"You're always safe with me, Oliver."
He
rolled to his side, and she tucked the blankets back around him, then turned
the light off and went back to her bedroom.
Usually
she tossed and turned a little bit. But
she felt safe, too, with him out there on her couch, ready to stop anyone who
might want to hurt her.
"I
love you, too, Oliver," she whispered into her pillow, then relaxed and
let go of the day, of everything, serenaded by his soft snoring wafting in from
the living room.
FIN