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.
Family Ties
by Djinn
You've
always known your brother wasn't the brightest.
Oh, you adored him when you were little, but not because he was smart
and serious. You adored him for the
sunny smile he wore, for the devil-may-care attitude, for the way he'd chase
you around the house and call you "Speedy."
Now
you know the sunny smile he used to wear was a vacant one, his attitude wasn't
innate but spurred on by your mother's and fake-father's ability to pave over
his mistakes with money. But still, he
did chase you around the house. That was
fun.
It's
still fun, to have him chase you without knowing what he's chasing. Fighting with the Arrow in your living
room—you knowing who he was, what he
was while he held back, unwilling to hurt his innocent little sister—was so
much fun.
Almost
as fun as meeting Laurel in the cemetery.
In letting her spill out the truth of Sara's death. A death you remember well since you dealt it.
And
not under Votura.
You did it yourself. You did it
because she was hunting your father. You
probably acted hastily, but then your father turned the whole thing into a way
to possibly get rid of Ra's al Ghul once and for all
if Oliver kills him—unlikely though that scenario seems from what your father
has told you of the man who trained him.
Or Ra's will kill Oliver, and at least you'll be off the hook since the
matter will have to die with your brother now that he's confessed to the
murder.
He
confessed to save you. Oliver would do
anything to save you.
You
won't return the favor.
Your
father comes into Verdant, through the back way—a different back way than
Oliver uses for his not-so-very-secret lair.
You almost laughed out loud when you saw Ray Palmer show up looking for
Felicity. She didn't even try to explain
why she was in a nightclub—in her work clothes.
You
stayed away from them, but the listening devices you have at every table will
tell you what they spoke of, if it was important. You're not sure if this Palmer is working
with your brother's team or not. You
think not, but you've learned not to make assumptions. Who would have picked Roy and your brother as
the new dynamic duo?
And
that's not a dig against Roy. Him, you
can see going all vigilante. But
Oliver? Sweet, but dumb as an inbred
Golden Retriever, Oliver? How did he
become this new man? This strong if
still blinded-by-family man?
"Thea?" Your father's watching you, a look of
wariness has entered his eyes since he told you Oliver went to fight Ra's on
your behalf. It's not because you
reacted, because you cried or seemed sad.
It's
because you didn't.
For
your father, family is everything. And you're
his family, so now he's just like Oliver.
He has a Thea-sized blind spot.
He believes you're equally tied to him, equally blinded by love for him.
For
all his brilliance, he's as dumb as your brother. You told him what you wanted in the car that
night he took you away from everything you'd known. You wanted to never hurt again. You're smart enough to know that never
hurting means you'll never love again.
You've turned that part of yourself off.
He
thinks you love him. He fails to see
that you view him as the instrument to make you what you need to be, to harden
you, to make you unbreakable—impossible to hurt.
He's
useful to you. He amuses you. You're learning a lot from him. You enjoy the time you spend with him.
But
you don't love him.
How
could you love him and not love Oliver?
He's foolish to see that you can't pick and choose that way. It's always been all or nothing with you, but
then he wasn't there when you were driving your mother crazy, after your
fake-father disappeared with Oliver. How
you acted out. How selfish you became.
How
this version of you was born. A weaker
version of you back then, still wanting to care and be cared for. Not hurt enough to realize that caring was a
losing road.
Your
father is the winning road. And you'll
stay with him until that's no longer true.
"Have
you heard anything?" you ask him, because that's what he'll expect you to
do. To show some emotion, even if you're
part of this plan of his.
Even
though he's part of this plan of yours.
You go back to wiping a table down to hide what you're afraid is a
smirk. You're still mastering your
expressions. It's why Oliver thinks you're
different: he can't read you like a book anymore.
Couldn't
read you like a book—probably best to start thinking of your brother in the
past tense.
"No. Nothing." Your father looks away and you know he's
lying to you. That he thinks you need
him to lie to you. That you'll care if
Oliver's dead.
Oliver
lied to you. For two years, Oliver was not only no longer the sunny brother you
loved but was a killer. A killer who kept
him alive for five years on that island.
You
understand how that works. You respect
the part of him who was the killer. You
think he's weaker now than when he first came home, bound now by love for his
ever-expanding team instead of a single, very clear mission.
You
have a mission. Protect yourself. Whatever the cost. Whoever the cost.
"Tell
me if you hear something?" Your
voice is the one your father loves. He
thinks you're his and for now, you are.
But
someday he'll find out the truth: the only family you have anymore is yourself.
FIN