Oliver Queen

It feels good to be suited up and out at night again without having to watch his back every single second. Whatever was going on with the animals seems to have stopped; Oliver still keeps an eye out, but not to the degree he had been for the past week.

Everything going back to normal has allowed him to go back to what he's been doing recently-- namely, stalking his boss. Oliver's trusted enough now that Alexei includes him in the planning of certain deals, though they each come with the expectation and warning that he needs to step up and actually use his rank once more, or sever his ties to the bratva entirely.

Considering that means they intend to kill Oliver if he doesn't take on his role as a true avtoritet, he's got a bit of a dilemma on his hands.

He's come up with stalking Alexei, collecting intel in order to shut him down for good. While it will mean an end to his job and the connections he's come by thanks to the bratva, Oliver gets to live at the end of it.

Alexei has spent most of his night in rather innocent pursuits, leading Oliver around half the city as he checks in on employees and rivals alike. While he doesn't seem to realize that anyone is on his tail, Oliver has had the feeling lately that someone is on his. He hasn't let on that he knows he's being followed, but the night is drawing to a close and Oliver's grown tired of it.

When Alexei's car rounds a corner to head back to Lush, Oliver doesn't follow; he drops into an alleyway instead, bow up as he blends into the shadows behind a large dumpster. It doesn't take long before he hears careful movement follow, and he lets his arrow fly, aiming low to disable whoever it is.

It's been a few hours since dawn and since the confusion and horror of the night ended. (It had taken Oliver some time before being able to say it was over, at least for a little while.) Oliver had wanted to keep going, but even he couldn't deny that he needed to rest, needed a few hours of sleep and some time to decide if he was going to deal with what the hell happened overnight.

How does one deal with the ghosts of dead friends and a murderous doppelganger?

Ultimately, Oliver chooses not to answer. They'll rest. They'll try to see if anyone else is out there. And maybe, somewhere along the way, they'll figure out what's going on and how to get home, if there's a way.

Oliver knows something is wrong before he's even awake. Despite being in relative safety for the past year, he still hasn't ever been able to sleep more than a few hours a night, and it's almost always light. He's come to recognize the sounds of the building around them, the sounds of the city outside their windows at any time of the day.

He usually wakes shortly before dawn, the city quiet but waking along with him -- only this time, in those groggy moments before he's fully conscious, Oliver can feel the wrongness. Like a soundproof blanket has covered their building, or like the entire world outside their windows has disappeared. Lian Yu had never been so quiet.

When he looks out the window, sees the ash coating everything, sees a familiar view changed, tainted, wrong, he stops thinking. Felicity is still asleep in bed and he doesn't wake her at first; better to let her sleep for a little while longer, to avoid whatever's waiting for them out there.

The television doesn't work, the electricity keeps flickering, and though his phone works, it barely does a fraction of what it should. No calls.

No Thea.

So Oliver prepares and plans. While Felicity sleeps, he packs. A few days worth of food, survival gear, extra clothing. Weapons he's stashed around the apartment. When there's not much else for him to do, he sits in their living room and looks out the window, hoping for signs of life out there. He thinks he sees someone on the sidewalk once, but the shadow is gone before he can even head over to the window, standing behind the curtain as he looks out and down into the street.

Finally, reluctantly, Oliver heads into their bedroom, his boots barely making any noise as he walks over to Felicity's side of the bed. She looks peaceful and he hates to wake her, but he doesn't want to stay in the apartment for much longer.

Sitting down on the bed beside her, Oliver picks up her glasses, holding them in one hand as he uses the other to rest it on her shoulder and give her a gentle squeeze. "Felicity. I need you to get up."

Oliver is quick to anger, and is completely irrational when it comes to Thea. He knows this, but the combination of the two makes it difficult for him to see anything clearly. It's only Thea's anger that punches through and reaches him, shaking him until he lets go of anger over something that not only can he not change, but isn't any of his business in the first place.

She's a grown woman who can make her own decisions, but it's still hard for Oliver to let go of the little girl he remembered.

Worse still, after he apologizes to Thea, is remembering the way Derek had looked when he left him. How callous was he that he was so willing to drop a friend so easily because he couldn't get a hold of himself? Had Diggle not pushed back against Oliver constantly, he would probably still be alone, lost as the Arrow and fighting a war he could never win on his own.

It doesn't take long for Oliver to suck it up and head over to Semele's one evening. He's in all black, his usual outfit for a later shift at Lush, but he stops by the bar first to find Derek.

And he will, for once, try to apologize.

After his time with Derek, Oliver wants nothing more than to call it a night. He breaks radio silence to tell Felicity he's heading back in, and wastes little time heading back uptown to their building. A quick visit to his small clothing stash a few buildings down, and Oliver heads into their building in plain clothes, bag in hand, as though he's just heading back at 3am after along night working at the club.

He doesn't call out to Felicity until after he's closed and locked the door behind him, bag set on the floor in the small hallway. Oliver has quickly gotten over his guilt at having Felicity stay up on the nights he goes out as the Arrow only to go to work the next morning, but he knows better than to suggest she go to bed and leave him to it.

It's nice to walk into the living room and see her there. His arm is starting to hurt a little now, a reminder that it hadn't since Derek did his thing, but he doesn't bother grabbing the first aid kit yet.

Oliver heads over to the couch and sits down heavily next to Felicity, happy to be home and comfortable again. "Hey," he says quietly, smiling as he reaches out to tug at the hem of her shorts.

He isn't really thinking when he first picks it up. Oliver's simply speaking, enjoying his conversation as he looks around, and something catches his eye. He isn't sure what draws him to it, only that it catches his eye, and unexpected. He's about to mention it but the crystal ball is in his hand before he even thinks about it, and everything around him sort of floats away.

It's not like he's there, but it's not like he's watching it on a television, either. Oliver can't explain it, only that he can see.

So many bodies. Digg, Lyla, and their baby girl. Felicity and a little blonde girl in her arms. Mom and dad, older and still alive. Thea finding out and taking him in her arms. Laurel, covered in blood. Barry and others in costumes. A sword through his gut and a fall, standing alone with no family or friends, the woman he loves with someone else, a family at his side in the end.

The crystal makes a loud, heavy noise when it hits the ground and Oliver takes a step back, his hand still outstretched and palm warm from where he'd been holding it. He can barely process what he's just seen; a dozen scenarios, half dreams, half nightmares, and every one of them a weight on his heart. What were they, visions? Wishful thinking? Torture?

Oliver shakes his head when he realizes someone is standing there, and he blinks when he looks up, unable to get the images out of his head

Oliver can't recall the last time he's felt so deeply content. Somehow, he's been granted a chance to be happy, and somehow, he's allowed himself to take that chance. Whatever this city is, Oliver will forever he grateful that it's brought him, brought them to where they are. (There is a sort of guilt that wants to creep its way in, guilt over feeling like he's abandoning Starling, abandoning his mission, but Oliver doesn't allow it to take root. Not now.)

The room is quiet but for their breathing, and as much as he wants to pull a sheet up, Oliver doesn't want to move a single muscle. Felicity's head rests on his chest and he can feel her breathe, her body warm against his. One hand idly runs over her back, feeling the curve of her spine all the way down to her waist, skin smooth under his fingertips. There are probably freckles he has yet to find, parts of Felicity's body he's yet to learn, and he's looking forward to it.

"I don't think," he murmurs, "we ever said Happy New Year."

It's a rare night off for Oliver, and one he fully intends to take advantage of. While he gains a deep satisfaction in being able to work and provide for himself, he has to admit that he misses being able to go out into the city at night and help whomever he can. Seeing someone else do the work while he had to pretend to be an innocent bystander only reignited his desire to go out and be the Arrow.

He makes his way out of his apartment without being seen, and takes the stairs up to the roof. After jamming the doors closed for a moment, Oliver gets dressed as quickly as the leather will allow, and stashes his duffel bag in a dark alcove created by the last set of stairs going up to the roof's exit. He frees the doors again when his hood is up, and with bow in hand, already feels much more like himself by the time he's out in the dark, open air.

Oliver walks to the edge of the roof and looks down at the streets below him. It's quiet enough for now, but he knows once he starts moving and hits certain blocks, activity will pick up.

A crunch of gravel alerts Oliver to someone behind him, and he turns, bow and arrow first, to see who it is.

He lowers it almost as quickly once he recognizes the slim body. He still may not trust him entirely, but Oliver kinda likes the kid, and doesn't mind meeting him again.

The city is stifling.

There's too much unexplained, too much still to learn, too many people, and no way out. No way home. He's accepted some aspects of life in the city so far - adapting is the first step toward surviving - but he refuses to believe he'll never be able to leave. He'd thought as much on Lian Yu, but there had always been some sort of hope to get home.

His apartment is still spare, nothing but a few outfits he's bought, the barest minimum food, and whatever furniture came with the place. He expects nothing new after his second full day of job hunting, but after the door creaks shut behind him, Oliver senses something is different. He pulls a knife out of his jacket as he slowly walks through the hall and into his living room, expecting an intruder.

He doesn't hear the knife clatter on the floorboards, only the blood rushing in his ears.

Someone's been in the apartment and left a few gifts in the middle of the living room.

His outfit. His wooden chest. His bow and quiver.

Oliver doesn't know how long he stands there staring, but his steps are unsteady when he finally spurs himself into action, checking the rest of the apartment in a haze of panic and rage. He doesn't understand what's going on, why he's here, or who is toying with him, but they obviously know who he truly is, and what is this supposed to be? Some kind of gift? A warning sign?

He leaves the apartment and walks the neighborhood for a while, until his blood cools and he can enter the apartment again without losing his head.

Oliver moves everything into his small second bedroom, and though it makes him uneasy, he can't deny that the idea of getting suited up and heading out into the city excites him. He can finally do something again, even if all he does is get some answers to a million questions.

It's barely midnight before Oliver is deep in Locos territory, sticking to rooftops and shadows as he scouts the streets beneath him, learning Darrow from above the way he learned Starling.

And when he hears a scream, he doesn't think; Oliver jumps to the next roof, a shadow among shadows as he heads toward the noise.