Arrow

by Marc Guggenheim

  “So how’s Dinah working out?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “Dinah?” Quentin said. “Dinah’s great. Solid cop, reliable, trustworthy. Smart as a whip. She’s one of the good ones.”

  “And how’s life outside the office?” she asked, “You can’t spend every hour of the day worrying about the people around you—you need some time for yourself, too. Have you got any… you know, prospects?”

  “Prospects?”

  “Yeah, like someone you can hang around with in the real world.”

  “I’m too busy.”

  “C’mon, Dad, surely there’s someone you at least have your eye on.”

  “Stop.” He said the word firmly, almost harshly, and she pulled back. “It’s not like that. Besides, I’m…” He hesitated. “Well, I’m still hung up on Donna.”

  “Donna?”

  “Donna Smoak.”

  “Felicity’s mom?”

  Quentin nodded and took a sip of his coffee to cover the embarrassment at discussing his love life, or lack thereof, with his daughter.

  “Well,” Sara smirked. “If Felicity is any indication, then way to go, Dad.”

  “According to Donna, Felicity takes after her dad, but Donna’s a knockout.”

  “What happened with you two?”

  “You know, this thing we all do,” he replied. “It’s too dangerous to have people close to you.”

  She did know. Most of her relationships were one-offs, little flings, not that she didn’t care about them, but dating a civilian would be almost impossible. She looked at her father. He wasn’t a vigilante. Yes, he was involved with, and a part of, Team Arrow. She knew he got directly involved in what they did, but he was still on the periphery.

  Hell, if he could find some happiness, then he should go after it.

  “You know, if you get another chance with her you should take it,” she said.

  “I can’t.”

  She put her hand on his, getting his full attention. “I haven’t seen that look in your eye…” She swallowed the words “since Mom,” and instead said, “…in a long time. I bet Felicity didn’t get her fierceness from just her dad. Bring her in, tell her what really happens here, and let her decide if you two can be a thing.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “You could quit.”

  “What?”

  “Walk away from this, if love is on the line.”

  He sat back, looking deep into his cup of coffee as he considered her words.

  “I don’t think I can at this point.”

  “I understand,” she said, and again, she did. She wouldn’t want to stop doing what she did. Is that why they call it a mission? she wondered. I always thought that was cheesy, but I guess it applies.

  “Did you really want to ask about my dating life?”

  His words pulled her out of her contemplation. “No, not just that, at least. I wanted to talk about Dinah becoming Black Canary.”

  Quentin’s head jerked left then right, looking all around to see if anyone had heard her. Dozens of people surrounded them. All of them who were in groups, even just pairs, were deep in their own conversations. Anyone who was alone had ear buds and their phone, listening to music or watching a video or connecting over social media.

  “Relax, Dad, nobody’s paying attention.”

  “You never know in this town.”

  “Okay, relax, Dad. I’m paying attention and nobody is listening to us.”

  “Okay.” He sat back.

  “Did you know Oliver made her the official replacement?”

  “I did, and it’s the right thing for him to do.” He nodded. “I mean, you can’t argue with the choice. She’s the perfect fit, even has the canary cry and everything.”

  “He had her a uniform made.”

  “Oh.” Quentin frowned, but only for a brief moment. “So she’s even going to look the part.”

  “She does.”

  “That’s good,” he said. “That’s right.”

  “I just want to make sure it’s really okay.” Sara leaned forward and reached out to him, taking his hand across the table.

  “Is it okay with you?” he asked.

  “It is.” She nodded. “I’ve seen her in action, in the costume and everything. It’s like she’s always been Black Canary. Not that anyone can replace Laurel.”

  They both went silent for a moment, lost in their own memories of Laurel. One as a sister, the other as a daughter, both of a strong, complicated woman they missed terribly.

  “I saw her,” Sara said.

  Quentin frowned deeply and shifted in his seat. “You mean, you saw her in the past, with that Legends thing you’re doing now?”

  Sara shook her head. “No, not quite. It’s—it’s hard to explain. There was an alternate timeline made by the Spear of Destiny and—”

  “Wait,” Quentin interrupted. “You saw an alternate version of Laurel?”

  “It was Laurel,” Sara’s voice was firm. “She, well, she came to me. I don’t know everything, but I think she’s fine with Dinah taking her mantle.”

  A tear trickled from the corner of Quentin’s eye.

  “It’s okay, Dad. That’s what I’m saying, it’s okay.”

  He wiped his cheek. “It’s not. I mean it is, with what you said, but—”

  “But what?”

  “There’s another Laurel.”

  “What?”

  “We’ve got another Laurel running around here.”

  Sara didn’t know what to think. “Explain.”

  “I don’t know how, some Earth-2 thing or something. I just know your sister is here, but it isn’t her.”

  “Where is she? Should we go see her? I know it’s not her, but—”

  “She’s evil, honey. This new Laurel is bad.”

  “Laurel has an evil twin from an alternate world?”

  “I guess so. A doppelganger, or whatever you call it.”

  Sara sat there for a long moment.

  “I’ve thought a lot about it,” Quentin said. “You remember, your sister had her demons. Hell, I think both of you girls got that from me, things you have to fight.”

  “Dad—”

  “Let me finish,” he said. “I don’t know what this other Laurel went through before coming here, but it put her on the bad side. I don’t know if she can be brought back. She’s not our Laurel.”

  “Maybe, maybe she could be redeemed.” Sara thought about her own past, the things she had done, things she couldn’t be proud of, things that she should be ashamed of. “People can change. We know they can.”

  Quentin didn’t say anything. He took a sip of his coffee, making a face.

  “What?” she asked. “Tell me what you’re not telling me.”

  “You know that thing on that island?”

  “The thing that has all of you shaken, even now?”

  “Yeah.” He rubbed his hand over his head, as if he were stalling. “She was there, this other Laurel.”

  Sara just waited, letting her father come to whatever he was trying to tell her.

  “I shot her.” Quentin looked up, not crying but with wet eyes. “She was going to kill Dinah and, even though I knew it wasn’t my baby girl, it was still my baby girl and I shot her like an animal.” Tears streamed freely.

  “Dad, it’s okay. You had to do what you did.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “I know, but it’s okay.”

  “It’s not.” His voice was empty, as hollow as his heart. “I left her there and then the island exploded, it just exploded into a fiery deathtrap.” He put his face in his hands and she could barely hear the last words he said.

  “I left my baby girl there to burn to ashes.”

  7

  William sat on the couch, two action figures in his lap. He clutched a tablet in his hands, thumbs moving as he played a video game, the sound on mute.

  Oliver watched his son just sit. William hadn’t moved in more than an hour,
just stared at the television. All attempts to talk were met with sullen stares or grunts for answers. Part of him wanted to grab the tablet and turn it off, to make William talk to him, to confront the problem head on.

  But he knew that was just his trigger response to almost any situation. His default setting was confrontation, and had been for years. First as an angry young man, then stranded on Lian Yu, and finally solidifying once he returned home and donned the mantle of the Green Arrow. He solved problems head on, charging in, using his own power and strength to overcome whatever stood between him and his goal.

  Every tool he had to solve problems was the absolute worst way to solve the problem of a traumatized son he barely knew.

  Part of him was also happy that William seemed to find even a passing peace by watching whatever he was watching.

  He wanted to talk to his son, but couldn’t, so he watched him from across the room.

  William flinched when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ve got it, son,” he said, keeping his voice as gentle as he could while moving to the door. He opened it, and smiled. Standing there was a dark-haired woman with large, kind eyes.

  “Hello, Oliver,” she said.

  “Hello, Raisa,” he said. “I am so glad you could come.”

  “You called, and I could not say no.”

  He stepped back to usher her inside. “Welcome to my home.” She entered, looking around at the fully furnished apartment.

  “When are you going to decorate?”

  Oliver glanced around, unsure of what she meant.

  “It is lovely, Oliver,” she said. “But this is all someone else. You should add your own personality to it, make it feel more like home.”

  Her words startled him, cutting to the center of something he had already been feeling. The apartment wasn’t truly his, and now he realized it wasn’t truly William’s either.

  “I will do that very thing… tomorrow,” he promised.

  “Good boy,” she said, moving toward the couch. “And who is this handsome young man?”

  Oliver waited for William to introduce himself, but instead his son just stared at the television. Finally Oliver spoke up.

  “This is my son, William. William, this is Raisa.”

  William said nothing, and simply turned ever so slightly away, his eyes still on the screen.

  “I’m sorry,” Oliver said, “he—”

  Raisa cut him off with a quick hand motion, moving until she was in front of William. She sat on the coffee table in front of him and just stayed still for a moment, waiting for some signal only she would be able to interpret.

  William ignored her.

  Oliver wanted to step in, to say something, to break the silence in the room, but instead he stood and watched. He’d done enough hunting to recognize it as such, even if the prey at stake was the attention of a young boy, instead of food for survival.

  He didn’t see what William did, and he knew that William may have done nothing, but Raisa reached out, her hand moving very slowly between them, until she touched the tablet. Leaving her fingers on the edge of it for a long moment she waited. After a full minute passed, she carefully lifted the tablet and put it beside her.

  William didn’t move, but he also didn’t object.

  “Do you know how long I have known your father, William?” Raisa asked.

  The boy said nothing, but his head moved a scant inch.

  “I have known your father since he was in short pants, much younger than you are now.” She put her hand on the couch between them, the edge of it barely touching his leg. “Do you know how old your father is now?”

  William shook his head, not even enough to make his hair move, but it was just enough.

  “He’s old!” she cried. “Ancient, as old as dirt.” Her laugh sang across the apartment.

  William’s lips twitched, just barely, at the corners.

  “So, you know I have been here a very long time, even though this is the first time we are meeting, and I will be here for a long time from now.”

  The words came, just barely loud enough to hear.

  “How long?”

  “As long as you need me.”

  William’s head bobbed in a tiny nod.

  “Now, I think you need me to make dinner,” Raisa said.

  “Do I get to pick?” The question was a little louder this time.

  “You can pick from two choices, but you have to come to the kitchen with me to do that.” She stood. “Okay?”

  William used his legs to pull himself forward to stand from the couch.

  “Let’s go then, young William.” She turned and moved toward the kitchen, with William following. After a few steps she stopped. “Your father has to go to dinner with friends, William. Tell him goodbye, and we will consider dessert of some kind.”

  William turned around and looked up at Oliver.

  “Goodbye, Oliver.”

  Oliver knelt beside him. “Goodbye, William, I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Okay.”

  “I—I love you, son.”

  William nodded solemnly. “I know,” he said, turning back to Raisa and the kitchen.

  Oliver stood and mouthed thank you to Raisa. Then he left with the first glimmer of hope for his son he’d had in a long time.

  * * *

  Felicity pushed past a group of fresh-out-of-high-schoolers and stepped into the middle of Big Belly Burger’s lobby. She looked around until she saw Diggle waving at her. Moving quickly, she arrived at the table for four. Diggle pulled a chair out for her and she sat across from Lyla.

  “Oliver is running a few minutes behind,” she announced once Diggle settled in next to his wife.

  “Of course he is,” Diggle said with a smile on his face.

  “I think the only thing Oliver is ever on time for involves a hood and arrows.” Lyla’s smile matched Diggle’s.

  “No comment,” Felicity said, “but I concede your point. Not this time, though. He’s still having issues with William.”

  Diggle and Lyla shared a knowing look.

  Felicity didn’t say anything. She knew her friends meant nothing by it, but the smug exclusion really chafed at her. She didn’t spend a lot of time thinking about kids—well, lately she had, not kids in general though, but one kid in particular. She’d thought long and hard about William, not just worried over him because he was Oliver’s son, but considering what William might mean to whatever she and Oliver had.

  Felicity already felt bad about her feelings, no matter which way they fell at any given moment. Thinking about William didn’t help.

  The waitress appeared with a tray of cups and began setting them on the table.

  “We ordered a round of orange sodas,” Lyla said by way of explanation. Felicity picked hers up and took a sip, the carbonation making her nose tickle.

  “I love orange soda.”

  “Did someone say ‘orange soda’?”

  Felicity turned to find Oliver pulling his chair out and sitting down. She leaned close to him and said, “How did things go?”

  “It went well, very well. Raisa will be as good for William as she was for me.” He looked over at Diggle and Lyla, “Sorry I’m late.”

  They both waved away his concern.

  “Have we ordered?” he asked.

  “No,” Lyla said, waving over the waitress. “But we can now.”

  The woman appeared, and it only took a moment for everyone to order their regular favorites. The waitress left and they were back to being by themselves in the busy restaurant.

  They laughed around the table, enjoying each other’s company. The same as the other patrons of Big Belly Burger were doing that very evening around them. No, they weren’t accountants, or software analysts, or welders, or retail clerks. They were two vigilantes, a chaotic good hacker, and the head of a secret government agency that dealt with meta-human crime and terrorism. Yet their easy laughter was the same as the people around them.

  It fel
t… right.

  And then the conversation did what conversations inevitably do when adults spend time together. It turned to work.

  “John tells me you have a copycat,” Lyla said.

  Oliver frowned.

  “He’s not happy about it,” Felicity said.

  “I can see that.” Lyla laughed. “You should never play high stakes poker, Oliver.”

  Diggle put his arm around his wife. “Didn’t Dinah talk to the vic?”

  Oliver nodded.

  “What did she say?”

  “Apparently the copycat is looking to do something with the drug trade in the city,” Oliver said.

  “Taking it over?” Diggle asked.

  “She doesn’t think so. She thinks he’s targeting the upper-level distributors. I trust her judgment, but…” Oliver let the sentence trail off.

  “She definitely has the experience to know,” Felicity said. “That’s why you sent her in.”

  “True.” Oliver shifted in his seat. “She said he attacked this Mr. Chavis to get information.”

  “Did he get any?” Diggle asked.

  “He gave up someone named Manny Cross.” Felicity and Lyla shifted in their seats. Oliver looked from one to the other. “You know that name?” he asked both.

  “It’s come up when I was researching the influx of drugs in Star City,” Felicity said.

  “Manny Cross has been on A.R.G.U.S.’s radar for a hot minute,” Lyla added. “We don’t have cause to take action, but it’s only a matter of time.” She looked sideways at Felicity. “I’m surprised you don’t know more about him.”

  Felicity began tearing at her napkin, looking down as she did.

  “Why would you think that?”

  “I just assumed you read our files.”

  “Um…” Felicity’s cheeks grew warm. “I try not to hack our allies’ systems.”

  “That’s very… polite of you.”

  “I said try,” she said. “Remember that, if your cyber-security guys do a deep check on your systems.”

  Lyla smiled. “Well, if you find anything too easy to get past, let me know so I can send a message to IT.”

  “What did Dinah recommend we do about the copycat?” Diggle asked.