Forget-Me-Not

[Oliver Queen]

He didn't miss her initial reaction to his question. The way her expression fell . . . almost made him wish he could take it back, because part of him didn't want to hear it anymore. But he knew he had to. She didn't know if he was happy. And she seemed to know him fairly well. So the clear answer was . . . no. He wasn't happy. Weighted did not sound happy. Though he could tell she was trying to give him something positive and encouraging, for she said that he was happy with Thea. That he had been happy with McKenna. She had always beenn fun to be with. While they never had anything serious before -- nothing that he had remembered -- he did recall always have a good time in her company. She had seen him more than others? Was she sure they weren't sleeping together? It just seemed so odd to Oliver, to open up to a woman this much when there was no physical intimacy involved. He must be really good friends with her.

He wasn't sure what to say, as he still processed everything she was telling him and had told him. Why had he chosen this lifestyle? A life of unhappiness, of lies, of danger. None of it sounded appelaing to Oliver. Granted, he hadn't been the most honest person before but that was different. He was lying to everyone now. He was literally living a double life. And he even had a team to help him, apparently. "I don't know how to be this . . . person." This person that she expected him to be. She and the Diggle dude expected him to be. Someone who fought crime and was skilled beyond compare, well, at least against the criminals anyway . . . for all he knew. He set the bow down, putting it back in the box. "And I'm not sure I want to be," he finished, putting the lid back on the box. How could he return to that kind of life, when it sounded so . . . depressing. He wasn't happy. He couldn't be close to the people he remembered from before the Island. He had lost Tommy. Laurel. McKenna. Sara. And was constantly lying to Thea. What kind of life was this? Certainly not one he wanted to live in that was for damn sure.

[Felicity Smoak]

Felicity watched him, and her heart broke for what the was coming to see she needed to do for him. It wasn't until she realized what was happening here, that she could see what this could mean for him. She heard his words, and she knew what needed to be said. They were the best thing she could do for him, even if it would mean so many changes, and not all of them would be good for the city, and the people.

But Oliver had given enough. This was his way out. Closing her eyes, she forced all the emotions back, because this was the end of an era. This was the end of the connection that was between them. Opening them, she forced herself to smile a little. "Then don't."

"The island was what changed you, Oliver. You once said you died on that island, and while I never believed it, I knew you did." He believed he wasn't fully alive, or worth fighting for. "But you don't have the memories. You didn't have the fear driving you. You can be free of this."

"I can still help you, with the details, and help you understand your past year so you can still hide this; but you can be someone else. . . . . you could be happy again." And she wanted that for him.

[Oliver Queen]

She didn't say what he expected her to. He thought she was going to try to convince him not to give up this life he had apparently been living. He had expected her to find ways to urge him to keep fighting for the 'greater good'. Instead . . . she was telling him that he didn't have the memories to drive him. And while that was true, he supposed he was just surprised to hear it from her. She was still offering her help and once again, he was at a loss of what to say. He did need the help. And she was one of the few -- if not only person -- who knew about his memory sutuation. Or, lack there of. She was giving him an out. And he wanted to take it. He wanted to take it and run away from this alter ego he had shown her he was. He didn't want this pressure or this sad life. He wanted to be happy. He wanted to be the Oliver he knew.

"You would do that for me?" He asked, knowing he couldn't fully conceal the surprise and . . . appreciation he had for what she was offering him. It was clear that what he did was not only important to him, but to her as well. For she fought with him, she supported him, she helped him. And yet now, she was willing to let him live the life he knew, rather than the one she knew. It seemed so selfless and supportive and . . . she was giving him a chance to be happy. How could one thank another for giving them a life of happiness? The answer was simple. They couldn't. He couldn't. He could only say the words when the time came and hoped it was enough.

[Felicity Smoak]

He seemed surprised she would suggest that. She was surprised she suggest that, but when he asked if he was happy and she could not answer with a yes, then she knew that this was his only chance. If Oliver would ever be happy, then he had to life with no memory of everything he stood for. "Yeah," She admitted after a moment of silence. She could try.

"I will just put this up where nothing can happen to it." She said, gesturing to the box, and meaning that she would take it with her when she went. It would be her secret. Her memory that she protected, like she had done so when she thought him dead. It was hard to let everything go like this, but she would--for Oliver.

The only question was where they went now. "So you should take some time and let this all sink in. Don't google yourself. . . that never ends well." She also needed some time to take in what this meant. "We should meet tonight at the club. You should see everything once before I get it cleared away completely."

[Oliver Queen]

She offered to take the bow and put it some place safe. That was probably for the best. He wanted to move on from this. He didn't want anything to do with this . . . vigilante he had become. And, she was being so understanding about it. When she had otherwise been so adament about all the good he was doing, and how she believed in him. She suggested meeting at the club tonight so that he could see everything before she cleared it. "Sounds good," he agreed. "Though if you want to wait before clearing it, you can." He paused for a moment. "In case you want to try to find a replacement for me first. Hold Hood audtions," he said jokingly, giving a bit of a smile. Well, partly kidding.

He was just trying to lighten the mood a little. Because things were too heavy right now and this was he deflected. It was the only way he knew how to deal with things, but brushing them off and adding a bit of humor to the mix. Though, his smile faded. Even with his usual coping mechanisms, this was all still too much. "Are you, disappointed?" He asked, evne surprised that he was asking. He wasn't sure why that question had slipped out. Her and him seemed so close that he wondered if she was disappointed about all this. Even if she was, he wouldn't change his mind. But still. He knew that he should probably consider the feelings of someone else. Even if he had no memory of their friendship, she seemed to value it a great deal.

[Felicity Smoak]

He made jokes, and she tried to smile but she was more trying to make sure she didn't say anything that might betray the words she had just spoken. There would be no others, because this was Oliver's mission. It was his life, and his everything. Without him, this wasn't doing able.

She moved over to pick up the case with the bow in it, but when he spoke she looked up at him surprised. Sitting the case back down she moved over to him, and both her hands came out to wrap softly around his lower arm. "Oliver there is nothing in this whole world that I want for you, more then you being happy." She wanted that for him, and this was how she could give it to him.

It was also how she could evade the question without giving him a negative answer. She smiled softly, giving his arm a light squeeze before turning to pick up his . . . her bow. "The code to the lower part is 141. I'll see you tonight." She promised before walking toward the door.

Pausing suddenly she turned to look at him with a sort of overly animated 'oops' look. "You might want to hide the whole in your wall." Where he shot the wall. With that she turned to hurry out, and left him to figure that out on his own.

She was upset, yes. Diggle (whom she told everything too) was not supportive of this, but had all this 'wise guy' advice for her. So later that night, when she went to the club, wearing a black top, and a white and poka-dot skirt; she was both clear of mind and ready to try to handle this as positively as she could.

[Oliver Queen]

She told him that she wanted him to be happy, took the bow and arrow, gave him the passcode, and then reminded him about the hole in the wall. And with all that, she was gone. Oliver stood there, his mind still trying to process everything. He wasn't sure how long he had just been silently standing . . . before hearing a sound in the next room, and realizing that there was still a hole there. He quckly looked around for something to cover it up with. He took one of the pictures framed on the wall and shifted it over to cover up the aftermath of him testing out his 'skills'. When Thea walked in, he asked for her to get a hammer and nail so he could change the location of the picture becuase it was bothering, while holding it there so she would not see. She gave him a look like she thought she was crazy, but complied and came back with the necessary tools. Oliver was then able to cover it up and could now focus on more important things.

She was going to the club tonight, and so was he. He did all he could for the rest of the day to distract himself from everything else. The night could not come soon enough. And when it did, he dressed in the proper clothing to attend Thea -- formerly his and Tommy's -- night club. It was packed, which he was glad for. Not only because if gave him more distractions, but because it meant that Thea was successful with the club. And he was proud of her doing something like this. He didn't get a chance to spend too much time with her as she was busy running things, but that was no problem. He managed to find others to occupy his time. He didn't remembered any of his vigilante lifestyle, but he certainly remembered his more carefree, party lifestyle. So with that in mind, he ordered a large tray of shots for him and the few women he was currently socializing with.

This wasn't just about maintaining that lifetsyle, or going back to it rather. But also because, if he drank, he could numb his senses. He didn't have to think about losing Tommy or his father, or all the people he had killed, or losing others he cared about. He needed to just numb everything else, and right now, he didn't know how to do that. So he took a shot, raising it as the other few people he was with did the same, before they all simultaneously drank it. And one led to two. And two to three. This hardly made him buzzed, but he felt himself loosening up a little. After not having drank in so long -- apparently -- he was enjoying the sensation it gave him. And how it gave him something else to focus on.

[Felicity Smoak]

Her positivity scrolled down a notch when she entered into the club from one of the hidden entrances, and turned on her computers to watch for him--only to see him already there, drinking, and covered in girls. Felicity watched for a moment, before reaching up to turn off the monitor, and sit back in her seat.

This was who Oliver was. This was the man he wanted to be now--the one the island destroyed. The one who could be happy. Even if it was the one she thought she liked less. Still, she would help him. She owed her friendship to the man who had given his life and blood to the city.

Moving around the room, she found his old grey hoodie that he wore when cold down here. Glaceing up at the steps she hurried to tuck it into her purse. This was her's now. Everything down here would be going with her. It was Oliver's. Not this Ollie that he would be now.

While waiting for him, she began to unplug her computers, and take them part. She would get Diggle to help move the boxes at another point.

[Oliver Queen]

Oliver was avoiding the initial reason he had come here tonight. It wasn't to forget about everything that had happened. Quite the opposite in fact. It was to see his secret little hideout -- for the first time since he didn't remember it -- and for the last time too. He hadn't realized how fast time was going by until by the sixth shot, where he looked at the clock. Felicity may already be down there. He excused himself from the group, knowing he would have to be inconspicuous if he wanted the secret entrance to be kept a secret. Though he supposed it didn't matter once everything was moved out. Making sure he wasn't being watched, he got to the door and paused as he stared at the numbers.

What did she say the passcode was? His mind was only very slightly buzzed, so thankfully he was able to remember. He punched it in and held his breath . . . but it opened! Success. Making his way downstairs, the lights were on. She was here. Or the Diggle person, who he still hadn't met. He had meant to look for her first, but became distracted when he noticed everything else that was down here. "Woah," was all he managed to get out as he walked toward her, his head looking in all directions at the content of the basement of his Thea's nightclub.

[Felicity Smoak]

Felicity was just looking up at the salmon ladder when she heard Oliver's voice. Turing she watched him take it all in, and moved to lean her side on one of the red iron poles. It was odd to see Oliver seeing this for the first time, and she wondered what he thought.

Noticing him touching things, she smiled, and moved to walk closer. As he touched the end of one of his arrows, she spoke up. "That's sharp," Or it had been months ago, though being it wasn't used, it would still be so. Felicity came to a stop by one of the desks that held the weapons, and looked up into his face. "Glad you made it." And not got overly distracted up in the club. "The sound from above will keep anyone from hearing what is happening down here, so you can touch anything and play with what you want before it gets boxed up."

He could not keep anything, though. Not because she wanted it--ok, not only because she wanted it--but also because if anyone found it then he would be exposed and protecting Oliver's secret was still her first goal.

[Oliver Queen]

Oliver was exploring, taking in his surroudings and all the interesting things that this basement contained. Letting his finger graze over the point of the arrow, Felicity pointed out that it was sharp. These didn't look like normal arrows. They looked . . . high techy. Buit he wasn't going to ask. Because while there was fascination in this alter ego that he had become, he wanted to let it go. He didn't want this to be a part of his life anymore, so he felt that the less he knew . . . the better. In the sense that he would not have to think back to how many people he killed. Or how many people he'd lost -- though he doubted these were either things he'd ever forget. Which was why tonight, he had wanted to drink. And would probably drink a bit more once they were done here.

"That's good," he said casually when she informed him that the sound from down here would not travel upstairs. "Where are you going to clear all this stuff to?" He asked, wondering if she had place to keep it. It was a lot of stuff. A lot of computers, and gadgets and . . . he paused when he saw the costume in the case, staring intently at it. Part of him had expected that it would bring back memories of this life he led . . . but the other part of him was grateful that it had not. He just stared at it, looking at the entire leather made suit, with a hood. To think, he had worn this almost every night and went out there to catch bad guys. The entire concept sounded ridiculous. "Just take it all away," he said in a low voice, turning away from having stared at the costume, and clearly not wanting to indulge himself in all these things. The sooner it was gone, the sooner he could move on.

[Felicity Smoak]

He asked where all this stuff would go and she paused to think, debating on if he should know or not. On one hand, if he knew then it would give him something to think about. On the other, not knowing meant drunken playboy could not drag it out to impress girls.

His words were the deciding factor. "It will be gone in a few days. Then you can turn this place into something else. Or give it to Thea." He wouldn't have to think on it. "Diggle has a place were we will store it, and get rid of the harmless parts bit by bit.....distroy the incriminating bits."

She moved around everything and hit the power cord to turn the lights off that lit up the cases. Only the training areas and faintly glowing over head lights were on. "You kept everything separate, so there isn't much down here personal." The notebook she hadn't given him back. The hoodie she stole. "I'll leave the tables and chairs. Maybe you can make a conference room, or employee hangout........private club." Thinking of what that might make happen down here caused her to make a displeased face.

[Oliver Queen]

Oliver listened to her suggest different uses of the room. He was certain it would not be put to waste. A storage area, or as she had suggested, a VIP lounge, conference room, or just a general hang out place for the staff of the club. When she pullled the power chord, he turned his attentions from the costume, and continued to look around, seeing what else there was here that he needed to see. Or well, perhaps not needed to since he no longer had use for this room the way he may have otherwise intended. "It'll be put to good use," he said simply, not sure for what but . . . for something, anything, other than this. He was still surprised that it had not yet been discovered. His gaze then went to the equipment throughout the room. He could tell it was workout equipment of some sort, but rather intense ones. Because while Oliver did hit the gym, it wasn't to do crazy stuff like what the things in here suggested.

"Guess I did just about everything down here," he commented. Except sleep, since he didn't see a bed. Or eat, since he didn't see a fridge. It was a workplace. Something that Oliver never thought he'd ever have because well, he didn't work. "Almost everything," he added, deciding to correct his statement. He felt as if he had so many questions about the different stuff down here, but at the same time, didn't want to know. Because he felt the less he knew, the better. He may not be able to live in denial of who he had been, but that didn't mean he was going to embrace it. He ended up going over to where all the computers were, seeing all the different screens. Was this something he did? Or was this where her skillset came in? "All this looks pretty . . . intense." For lack of a better word.

[Felicity Smoak]

He turned away from the case, and began looking around. When Oliver spoke again, she noticed he had looked at both his equipment and her own. "Some nights it was, some nights it was rather nice." She admitted. Walking over to her chair, she sat down and looked up at him since he was near. "I liked watched you do that." Pointing tot he salmon ladder. "You'd go up it, until you reached the bars, and then moved over the top." Her hand moved to show him the path until it was almost over her. "Then you'd just drop down, and . . . . it was nothing to you to be able to do that. You did it and held conversations."

Looking at him again, she was smiling slyly as she thought about all the times she would just sit and stare at him. "This was my table. I did everything from here. You would go out at night, but it was my job to make your job easier and help bring you home safe. I would do everything from watch were police were, and turn off cameras, track the bad guys, and hack into the FBI."

She was proud, and her voice showed it. "It felt good. . . . on my part. To help make the world a safer place. To know the assassins, and murdering drug dealers were all put away, or stopped. The people the police could not touch, they stayed out of the city, or ran when they saw a shadow and thought it might be you . . . but it wasn't just you. It was me too." And she liked that. Running her hand over the desk, she knew she would miss this place, but it wasn't anything without him. "I know you don't want to remember, but know that my only regret is that I can't thank you for it. . . . Thank the you that it would mean something to. This. This place, this mission. Did a lot for me too."

[Oliver Queen]

His gaze followed hers, looking up at the equipment he apparently used to exercise . . . and she explained it to him. He wasn't sure how he did it. He didn't feel like he was capable of doing something that looked so physically exurting . . . but then again, he hadn't thought he'd be capable of being a murderer either. That island had really shifted everything he was. To all that he had become. But no more. "Looks complicated," he said simply, not about to try it out. Whether he was able to or not, he didn't want to give himself any more proof that he could be this vigilante. He didn't want to be, and therefore, didn't want to do anything that would suggest otherwise. He didn't want to fire another arrow. Or try on the costume. Or give the salmon ladder a go. He just wanted to get this done and go back upstairs so he could be Oliver Queen, the way he remembered. She then went on about how her job, and what she had done to help him. And well, it sounded like quite a bit. She would help protect him? Engage in illegal activities while he committed his own crimes? It all sounded so . . . risky.

But the way she talked about it, made it almost sound like she was proud of it. He didn't know her that well, but even he could detect that. "This all meant a lot to you, didn't it," he both asked and stated. It was clear that it did. And while that was not enough to change his mind about it, it did make him more appreciative of the fact that she was willing to let it all go, because he didn't want to do it. "If I remembered everything, then I would probably want to thank you too, if you did in fact keep me safe and protected." He didn't understand it, but he was just going with it. "Maybe with this all coming to an end, you can do something less dangerous." He was trying to be helpful . . . wondering why her and Diggle would risk so much, and why the hell he would let them. Oliver didn't like responsibility, and this was repsonsibility on a whole new level. "Something more normal," he added non chalantly, as he walked around the desks, still taking in the sight of everything.

[Felicity Smoak]

What would she do now? He'd offered her a job, but she didn't think she could come work for this Oliver. She didn't know what he was doing, or what his plans were. What she did know was that if it hurt this much now, when he needed her, it would hurt more later when he didn't and she was just a girl int he hall that he passed, and nodded too.

Staying with Diggle might not be best for her career but it let her work with friends, and still keep and eye on John. He was her friend, and they had grown close. He was like a big brother to her, and making sure that he not only kept his head out of trouble, but getting him out of that trouble once he was in it--it was as close to doing what she loved as she could get.

"I am sure I will find something to keep me amused." Her voice was soft, and not as light as she hoped, so after taking a deep, slow and calming breath, Felicity spoke again. "What do we do from here? For you I mean." Not we! Him. "After I take all this away, and answer your questions; what do you plan to do now that you don't have as many questions."

[Oliver Queen]

She asked him what he had planned to do now. What his next step was. And to be entirely honest, Oliver had no idea. His father wasn't here. His mother was in prison. And Thea had her boyfriend. Oliver did not know where his place was. But nor could he admit such a thing to her. They may be friends, but he didn't want to sound pathetic. Maybe this whole vigilante thing had given him a sense of belonging. Some sort of direction with his life. But without it, without his parents, and without Tommy . . . he didn't know what to do. He suppressed any of these doubts and forced a smile on his lips.

"I'm not sure," he said, trying to sound as casual as possible rather than stressed about it. "Maybe see how I can help out the company." He had seen on the news that some Isabel chick was trying to get control of Q Consolidated . . . and he had no idea how to counter her expertise. "I guess just learn how to live in the way everything is now," he concluded. Learn to live as this Oliver Queen, without his parents and best friends from a time he remembers. Rather than the Oliver Queen who dressed in green leather and ran around on the streets. "Are you still planning to work in my family's company?" He asked, wondering if she would stick to that job now that she was losing this one.

[Felicity Smoak]

It was odd to see Oliver with no plans. Her Oliver was so direct, and motivated and on a mission every moment of every day. This was didn't seem to even know where to start. So different. It only showed her just how much the island had changed him. While she had not known him before, she knew him now. He was different. He moved different. He sounded different.

"You know if you ever need anything, you only have to ask. There are so many people who would be willing to help you. Good friends. Me, Diggle. Even the ones you know, like Walter and some of your father's business friends." No one wanted to see him fail. He could find help, and with how unsure he sounded with his words more then his tone--she wanted to remind him of that while not answering his question about her. "If you want to help your company, you are going to need help. I've looked up Isabel."

Moving to pull a file out of her bag she passed it too him. "She is young and working to become a powerhouse in business. She does not want to run it, but she wants to take over and split it up before moving on to her next business. And she never smiles." There were a few photos of her there. "In any photo."

[Oliver Queen]

She told him that he could go to her if he ever needed anything. He appreciated the sentiment, and knew that right now, she was the one who knew the most about him. For no one else knew that he had lost his memory. And no one else seemed to know he was the vigilante -- apart from those she had mentioned to him. Diggle being one of them, and Tommy being the other. Tommy. Who was dead. Who else could he talk to? He couldn't ask Laurel for anything. And she was one of the few others who he remembered having a close relationship with. "I'll let you know," he told her, not wanting to dismiss the offer when he was fairly sure he would be taking her up on it at some point. She then added that she had looked up Isabel. Wow. Felicity was really on top of things. Though it made sense, considering all she had explained that she did for him. He took the file from her and opened it up, looking through the pictures of her. Suddenly, this company take over sounded like it was going to be fun.

"Don't worry," he said, a slight smirking forming on his face as he closed the file and looked up at Felicity. "I got this," he added, with a small wink. It didn't take a genius to understand what he was implying when he said he got this . . . or well, under what ways he would 'handle' her. This was a department that Oliver was very familiar with. After all, he could be very convincing. He set the file on the side, not needing to look at all of Isbel's background. It was irrelevant for his own plans to find a way to save this company. All he needed to know was that she was an attractive young woman, and the rest was easy from there. He also noticed that she didn't answer his own question about her still working for his family's company. Was that a no then? "Is there anything else really urgent I need to know?" He asked, wondering if there was soemthing else he should keep in mind if he was to act as if he had his memory completely in tact.

[Felicity Smoak]

His words were like he hit her. She didn't move at first, just watched his face as if she didn't understand. Then she blinked a few times and rocked back on her heels. "Ye-yeah. I am sure you think you do." She wanted to tel him NO! This was not how he did things! This was dishonoring who he was, and how very smart and strong he was. Oliver Queen didn't need to sex up someone in order to win his business over! This one. This younger one who never grew up. The peter pan version of Oliver--Ollie . . . .

He might need too. Felicity went to grab her purse, intent on walking out but just as she picked it up she tossed it back down again, before walking back to him. "Just so we are clear, you want me to think of you and Oliver as the same person, but I can't. Do you want to know why? Because he was smart. Oliver might not have had the best educational background, but he was very smart and quick. He didn't need to drop his pants to get his way! He knew the difference between charm and sleazy! Everything he did honored his father!"

Her tone softened, and after a paused she continued, clearly both hurt, and angry at his words. "You don't want to remember anything from who you were-fine. I am willing to help you. I want you to be happy--but this. This just dishonors everything you are. Every person who has given up anything in order to help you. Instead of even bothering to try to do something with your head . . . . you decide to just sex it away!"

Turning she began to walk away, and give them distance but she did keep talking for one last line. "And you wonder how you get in over your head."

[Oliver Queen]

Oliver watched her pick up her purse, only to put it back down, and coming up to him. Something told him he was about to get told. And boy, was he right. She lashed out at him, telling him that he had been smart, quick, and a man who honored his father. She spoke of how he had been an honorable man, and what he did now dishonored everything. Using sex as a way of achieving things. This was who he remembered being and he had to embrace that lifestyle. Perhaps he was embracing it a bit too insensely . . . but it was better to do that than evenn consider embracing the role of the vigilante. She finished her words and began to walk away, pausing to add a final statement.

"There's no honor in taking a person's life," he stated. "And until you tell me that you've killed someone and knows how that feels, you can't convince me otherwise." Because . . . apparently he did all the killing. He was the one who went around shooting arrows at people while her and Diggle stayed here and helped him. She admitted she had not been ok with it, but had come to believe in his cause. Which only went back to his original thought, that he could be very convincing. "I have more blood on my hands than I can even remember." Tommy included. "Don't tell me there's honor in that," he argued. His father never told him to go around and kill people. He wasn't sure what he had meant by 'righting his wrongs' . . . but surely he had meant something else than how Oliver had handled it. He doubted his father's underlying meaning was 'dress up like a hooded man and fight crime'. "This is who I am. Who I remember." He couldn't live up to the expectation she had of him. And he wasn't going to try to.

[Felicity Smoak]

He didn't understand! She should not be surprised that he didn't understand but in a way she was. He only saw the evil when Oliver had been so much good. Chaotic good, but good. "I wasn't talking about the killing." Turning she looked at him. "I was talking about the man who used other ways to get what he wanted, rather then sleeping with someone."

"Not once was that his plan!" In a way she just wanted to shake him, but as she had said before--he was annoyingly strong. "When Oliver came to me for help, instead of thinking that he would just sex me over--he asked for help. You might think that is a bad idea, but it got him a lot further with a lot less consequences then jumping into bed with someone."

"And by the way, Isabel is a corporate woman, fighting to dominate a historically male role. Which means you would not be the first to think to go after her panties, and I doubt she'd be kind to you for trying." There was more for him to think on. "If you even bothered to read the file that I typed up rather then look at her pretty face you'd see that!"

[Oliver Queen]

She wasn't talking about the killing, but that was all that Oliver could think about. Put aside the freakishly good aim, and the fighting crime . . . he was a murderer. He killed people. How could that be so easily dismissed? How could he not consider that among everything else? She seemed to be highlighting all the good he did, but he could only focus on how he was responsible for the death of others. Even if they were criminals and scumbags, who was he to decide their moment to die? That was too much power for one man. "There's one thing I do know about me, and that is that I'm very good at being convincing," he said, as he took a few steps toward her. "So I'm sorry, for whatever I told Diggle and you, to justify murder for me." Oliver knew he could have that affect on people, but this was on a whole other level. It was evident that she didn't like him now, but Oliver couldn't remember being anything else. He knew people didn't like him, now and before. He lived with it. He hardly cared. So why did he care now? He shouldn't, but part of him did.

He wanted to make a crack, questioning if Felicity was challenging him when it came to Isabel . . . only to be a smart ass. But he held himself back. He didn't care about Isabel. That wasn't the point here. The point was accepting him as the man he was. She spoke of dishonoring everything else. When the truth was, that he should turn himself in for being a murderer. And if he thought it would do any good, he would. But with his family needing him, he didn't. He needed to be here for them. And the people who he felt would understand him, were dead or ones he no longer had the same relationship with. If Tommy were alive . . . Oliver was fairly certain he would share the same mindset as Oliver did now. "I said that I needed your help. But if all you're going to do is compare me to whoever I was before, then forget it." He knew he would suffer the most at that . . . but it wasn't as if this was healthy interaction. Arguing about things that he didn't understand or remember, yet things she felt strongly about -- and apparently, the post island Oliver that he used to be did too.

[Felicity Smoak]

That was what he thought? He had justified it? Felicity shook her head slowly, and stayed silent, but his next words made her realize that they were getting no were. They needed to step back. Get some air. "You're right. I should go." Moving to her purse, she picked it up. "Lock up when you leave. By the time you come here again I will have it cleaned out."

She stared at him for a moment then decided to tell him one last thing. "I had quit." Her voice was calm, but there was a haunted undertone to it. "I didn't want to be apart of the killing. I though he was a murder, and a criminal too. He--you came to ask for help. It was a case about a jewel thief, who put bombs around people's neck in order to make them to the crime for him."

"The short story? I had a bomb around my neck. I thought I was going to die. But Oliver got to the man first. He's in jail now. Oliver--you--didn't kill unless you had too. It was why I didn't mind helping. It wasn't because of anything you said. You never once pretended to be anything but what you felt you were . . . . and Oliver you didn't have very high opinion of yourself." Her tone was regretful.

"If you need anything. Please call me." Turning she headed for the street exit.

[Oliver Queen]

Oliver watched her leave, unsure what to say about any of this. She spoke so highly of who -- or what -- he was, but in reality, he couldn't even begin to fathom what kind of man he had become. He had not gone through the experiences that had shaped him to become a vigilante. How could he suddenly become him? Suddenly understand his justifications and his supposed sense of honor? He didn't know what she expected of him, but he knew he would never meet those expecations. Not any more. Taking some time to recollect himself, he waited for some time in this little secret hide out, before he went back upstairs to join the party.

Though he was no longer in a partying mood. So he had called it an early night and returned to his home. Which was, emtpy. He had never felt so lost in his entire life. He crawled into his bed, unable to find sleep so easily. He reached for his phone, scrolling down to find Felicity's name . . . feeling this strange desire to call her. He didn't want to argue with her, but he wanted to talk to someone who seemed to understand him. He eventually advised himself against it, and set the phone down. Instead, he spent the whole night contemplating. He was frustrated that he couldn't remember anything. But was even more frustrated that it was so difficult to just move on from the past.

The next day he had meetings at the office, and he formally met Isabel. She was . . . hardcore. Oliver still believed he could bring her to a level of understanding, but his mind wasn't in this sort of game right now. After the meetings, he left to visit his mother at prison. It broke his heart to see her like that. Dressed in a jail suit. On trial for a serious crime. He knew it wasn't looking too good for her, and he felt so helpless to do anything. By the time he had gotten back it was late and just as he was stepping inside his house, he phone went off. It was Felicity. She had asked to meet him at the office, and Oliver agreed that he would be there. So he turned back around to leave his house, grabbed his motorcyle, and was on his way back to the office.