Some dominoes still fall the same way, however. Sara still returns. Laurel still loses herself to her addictions, though this time not from grief and depression but anxiety and anger. Being the girlfriend of a superhero who risks his life every night leaves her worried that she’ll lose him again, and she and Sara still have things to resolve before they can start to move forward, and in some ways, alcohol makes that easier.
Once she decides to get better, Tommy institutes a dry house order for the apartment, that Oliver supports. He also winds up sweeping Laurel off to Central City that Christmas to see her mother, giving her some relief from the pressure of the holiday. Oliver stays behind, as the Arrow has its own concerns to address.
On the one hand, it keeps the two out of the crosshairs of Slade Wilson, at least for a little while. On the other, it puts both of them right in the path of the particle accelerator.
Oliver blows through Central City General like a man on a mission, eyes wandering over each door until he finds the one he’s looking for and pulls it open. Laurel is stretched out on the bed, unconscious, and Tommy sits next to her, holding her hand, waiting for her to wake up. Oliver closes the door behind him before making his way closer.
“Tommy.”
“Oliver, it came out of nowhere.”
Tommy rises, and Oliver catches his shoulders, meeting his eyes with his usual quiet intensity. “Are you okay?”
“She won’t wake up. I don’t know what it was, but she won’t …”
“Are you okay?”
Oliver stares him down, and eventually, Tommy nods, turning his head back towards the woman on the bed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
Oliver continues to watch him, almost as though he’s trying to sense a lie, to see through the obvious statement to find something that Tommy’s trying to hide, but in the end, he doesn’t see anything that would indicate otherwise, so he turns his attention back to Laurel.
“She’s a fighter,” he murmurs, one comforting hand against the back of Tommy’s neck. “She’ll be okay.” That hand massages his shoulder before pulling him away from the bed. “When was the last time you ate?”
“What does that matter?”
“Because you’re no use to her if you don’t take care of yourself. C’mon.”
He manages to force Tommy out of the hospital room and down to the cafeteria for half a sandwich and some coffee and tries to press him for details, but Tommy is hazy on them at best. The news kept rolling through reports on the particle accelerator explosion and the dark matter wave, but none of it explained why it hit Laurel so much harder than Tommy was. Eventually, it becomes clear that Tommy isn’t going to wait much longer, no matter how much information Oliver wants to gather.
They’re halfway down the hall to Laurel’s room, when an ear-splitting noise cuts through the air. Glass windows explode, and electronics spark around them. It’s all they can do to get their arms up to protect their ears and face. When the noise dies down, they dash forward to find Laurel sitting up in bed, one hand over her mouth, looking vaguely terrified.
“Laurel?” Oliver asks gently, lingering in the doorway and using his shoulder to keep Tommy out, just for the moment. “What was that?”
Very slowly, the hand lowers. Laurel starts and stops, almost as though she’s expecting some other sound than the sound of her voice, and when it sounds normal, she lowers her hand even further.
“I think it was me.”
Both Tommy and Oliver stare at her for a long time, before Tommy glances back over his shoulder to survey the damage and then back to her again.
“Oh, boy. This is going to take a pretty big check.”
- - - - - -
“Are you sure this Constantine guy is going to be able to help her?”
“Trust me,” Oliver replies as he pauses over the sink to get himself a glass of water. “If there’s anyone who can help someone harness an uncontrollable force, it’s John Constantine.”
“I do trust you. Your friend John, however, is another story entirely.”
Tommy is by the counter, watching a cooking video on his Palmer Tech smart screen, and eyeing a long carrot in front of him like he’s sizing it up for some contest of wills. He then turns his attention from the screen to the carrot, picking up the knife in his hand and dicing the root vegetable quickly and cleanly, in a polished enough way to make Oliver raise an eyebrow.
“Those are some pretty impressive knife skills.”
“Thanks,” Tommy smirks. “I’ve been trying to pick up something new. I figure that since Laurel is probably going to be taking the night shift with you soon, I might as well make sure that both of you eat.”
Oliver frowns. “What do you mean by that?”
Tommy slides the carrots into the crockpot next to him, before raising an eyebrow at Oliver in return. “Oh, come on. You know the only thing keeping her out of this fight is the skill set. This power could make her an asset rather than a detriment.” Tommy tips his head to the side. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.”
“I did. But I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t be right,” Oliver admits. “And power doesn’t a skillset make.”
“It’s not just a power. Laurel’s been taking boxing lessons ever since the last time the Huntress kidnapped her, and you could train her instead of trying to push her out of it.”
Tommy could tell by the look on Oliver’s face that he’s not thrilled with either idea, so it doesn’t surprise him when he immediately deflects back to Tommy. “Are you going to be joining us next? Or are you going to be focused on cooking lessons and décor?”
Tommy turns back to him as he reaches for the next ingredient for the food, holding up the knife as he does. “Are you implying that I’m the homemaker in this relationship? Because … I might not disagree with you.”
Oliver smirks. “I don’t think it’s that much of a surprise. You always were, in your way.” He makes his way closer, leaning in as Tommy finishes chopping the last vegetable and putting it in the pot, before replacing the lid and setting the temperature. “But would you be okay with that? If I brought Laurel into this. That’s one more person to worry about.”
“I tend to worry about you both enough already. But I think Laurel wants to be more proactive than reactive, so this could be good for her.” He turns and rests a hand on Oliver’s chest. “So long as you both come home every night, I’ll be okay.”
Oliver nods, his hand coming up to cover over Tommy’s. “I promise I will get her home.”
Tommy notices that Oliver doesn’t include himself in that statement. He knows that Laurel will promise the same, not for herself but Oliver. As long as both of them do their job, both of them will be safe.
He hopes.
- - - - - - -
Sara’s death brings a whole new host of problems for the city. Between Malcolm brainwashing Thea into doing it, and Ra’s al Ghul wanting to exact justice for her life, it was only a matter of time before Oliver did something stupid. In some ways, Laurel blames herself for not seeing the cracks sooner, given that she spends so much of her time with him, her grief at losing Sara consumes her, and it slips past her radar. Before she knows what’s happening, Oliver is gone, off to pay the debt in his sister’s place.
She and Tommy are close on his heels, or as close as they can be, but it’s still not close enough. By the time they make it to the foot of the mountain, Oliver is plummeting off the top, and Laurel has to suppress the urge to scream, as that might give their position away. He doesn’t fall far, just to a ledge maybe a story below, but he doesn’t get back up once he lands.
Tommy pulls her back into the trees, out of view of anyone who might be descending the mountain, holding her tight and close. “We need to get up there and get to him.”
“How are we going to do that?”
Tommy scans the side of the mountain, eyes calculating. He watches as the League of Assassin members make their way down off the mountain and disappear into the snow, before stepping out of the trees and moving forward. “Follow me. Do exactly what I do.”
She wants to question precisely what he means by that, before watching as he starts to scale the side of the cliff, knowing each handhold and foothold that will get him where he needs to go. She follows in suit, making their way up to the ledge where Oliver’s body waits. Tommy rushes forward, checking him for a pulse.
“It’s faint, but it’s there. Oliver’s still alive.” He then presses a hand against one of the wounds, a deep stab on the right side of his chest – it looks like it’s through his heart, but Laurel’s not a doctor, she can’t say for sure. Tommy then looks up at her. “Get the medkit out of my bag.”
As she starts to make her way around, another shape appears on the ledge, this one dressed in the League’s armor. Laurel tenses sliding easily into a fighting stance, and Tommy looks up as he sees it, but doesn’t move his hands from Oliver. The man holds up his hands as a gesture of surrender.
“Oliver is a friend. I’m here to help.” Silence meets his claim, and he elaborates. “My wife lives in these woods. She’s a healer. She can help him.”
Tommy looks at Laurel. “He’s cold, but he’s also bleeding fast. If we don’t get him help soon, he’s going to die.” She swallows, then nods. He turns back to the unknown assassin. “If you are screwing us? You’ll get to have the fun experience of your brain leaking out your ears. And I’m pretty sure she can scream faster than you can draw your sword.”
The assassin looks over to Laurel, before nodding his agreement. “My name is Maseo.”
“Laurel. And this is Tommy.”
Between the three of them, they managed to patch Oliver up enough for transport and get him to Maseo’s wife, Tatsu. Laurel followed Tatsu’s instructions best she could in terms of preparing herbs and tinctures for Oliver’s wounds, but when she glances over, she sees Tommy watching a video on his phone.
“Tommy, what are you doing?”
“Refreshing my memory,” he replies, in a way that makes no sense, before fishing out the medkit and handing his phone over to Laurel. “I need you to hold this up for me.”
“Why?”
“Because they haven’t finished the procedure yet, and I need to get all the details.”
She glances at the screen and sees that he’s watching what looks like a medical training video. She frowns as he watches his hands in the kitchen sink, before pulling on rubber gloves. “Tommy … ”
“I’ll explain once Oliver’s on the mend. Just … trust me, okay?”
Laurel nods because if there’s anyone she trusts in this world, it’s Oliver and Tommy. She does as she’s told, holding the video at eye level for him and handing him tools as needed. By the time all of Oliver’s wounds are patched up, she thinks she has a better idea of what’s going on.
Once Tatsu has gone to sleep, and she and Tommy curl up for warmth on her couch, she tucks her head against his shoulder. “You weren’t unaffected by the particle accelerator, were you?” Tommy blinks at her in surprise, and she looks up at him with a smirk. “You’re a meta, like me.”
Tommy swallows, then nods. “How’d you figure it out?”
“I just watched you perform amateur surgery on Oliver by watching med school procedure videos. And well, I might add, with zero hesitation. And unless you’ve been going to med school when Oliver and I weren’t paying attention …”
He laughs, before shaking his head. “No, I think you two would have noticed that one.” Then, he shrugs. “I started picking up things really easily. At first, they were just small things – knife techniques from the cooking videos I was watching, things like that. Then I started testing it more and more, picking up different skills along the way and I was doing it fast. Like … I saw it, then I could do it, like that.” He snaps his fingers for emphasis. “I figured it had to be a power of some kind, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
She nods, a curious expression crossing her face. “You could learn anything with those powers. Even how to fight like Oliver, and you decided to learn medical stuff?”
Tommy shrugs. “You guys seemed like you had enough fighters. I figured what you more likely needed was a healer.”
Laurel smiles as she leans in to kiss him. “I think that was an excellent idea.”
He grins into the kiss. “I’m so glad you agree.” He then turns to face Oliver again, and she rests her head against his shoulder. “I’m going to have to tell him too when he wakes up.”
“Oliver can handle it.” Laurel sighs. “If he can handle me and handle Barry, he will be fine.”
“That is true.” He then watches his friend, his slow, labored breathing rising and falling. “And he better wake up.”
“He will. He’s just watched both of us in this position. Clearly, it was his turn.”
Tommy snorts, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Can we agree never to do this again? Any of us, ever?”
Laurel laughs, before leaning in to kiss him again. “I think we can certainly try.” Then she tugs him down onto the couch, nestling against him. It’s not an ample space, but it’s just large enough. They hopefully won’t fall onto the floor. “C’mon. We should get some rest. He’s probably going to be out for a while anyway.”
Tommy agrees, and after a day of stress and exhaustion, sleep sounds like the next best thing. Tomorrow, they’ll have to make a plan for the League and everything that is going to come with saving Oliver’s life. But tonight, they’re all together, and they’re all alive.
no one can say what we get to be ~ dctv ~ 4,939 ~ part 2
Some dominoes still fall the same way, however. Sara still returns. Laurel still loses herself to her addictions, though this time not from grief and depression but anxiety and anger. Being the girlfriend of a superhero who risks his life every night leaves her worried that she’ll lose him again, and she and Sara still have things to resolve before they can start to move forward, and in some ways, alcohol makes that easier.
Once she decides to get better, Tommy institutes a dry house order for the apartment, that Oliver supports. He also winds up sweeping Laurel off to Central City that Christmas to see her mother, giving her some relief from the pressure of the holiday. Oliver stays behind, as the Arrow has its own concerns to address.
On the one hand, it keeps the two out of the crosshairs of Slade Wilson, at least for a little while. On the other, it puts both of them right in the path of the particle accelerator.
Oliver blows through Central City General like a man on a mission, eyes wandering over each door until he finds the one he’s looking for and pulls it open. Laurel is stretched out on the bed, unconscious, and Tommy sits next to her, holding her hand, waiting for her to wake up. Oliver closes the door behind him before making his way closer.
“Tommy.”
“Oliver, it came out of nowhere.”
Tommy rises, and Oliver catches his shoulders, meeting his eyes with his usual quiet intensity. “Are you okay?”
“She won’t wake up. I don’t know what it was, but she won’t …”
“Are you okay?”
Oliver stares him down, and eventually, Tommy nods, turning his head back towards the woman on the bed. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.”
Oliver continues to watch him, almost as though he’s trying to sense a lie, to see through the obvious statement to find something that Tommy’s trying to hide, but in the end, he doesn’t see anything that would indicate otherwise, so he turns his attention back to Laurel.
“She’s a fighter,” he murmurs, one comforting hand against the back of Tommy’s neck. “She’ll be okay.” That hand massages his shoulder before pulling him away from the bed. “When was the last time you ate?”
“What does that matter?”
“Because you’re no use to her if you don’t take care of yourself. C’mon.”
He manages to force Tommy out of the hospital room and down to the cafeteria for half a sandwich and some coffee and tries to press him for details, but Tommy is hazy on them at best. The news kept rolling through reports on the particle accelerator explosion and the dark matter wave, but none of it explained why it hit Laurel so much harder than Tommy was. Eventually, it becomes clear that Tommy isn’t going to wait much longer, no matter how much information Oliver wants to gather.
They’re halfway down the hall to Laurel’s room, when an ear-splitting noise cuts through the air. Glass windows explode, and electronics spark around them. It’s all they can do to get their arms up to protect their ears and face. When the noise dies down, they dash forward to find Laurel sitting up in bed, one hand over her mouth, looking vaguely terrified.
“Laurel?” Oliver asks gently, lingering in the doorway and using his shoulder to keep Tommy out, just for the moment. “What was that?”
Very slowly, the hand lowers. Laurel starts and stops, almost as though she’s expecting some other sound than the sound of her voice, and when it sounds normal, she lowers her hand even further.
“I think it was me.”
Both Tommy and Oliver stare at her for a long time, before Tommy glances back over his shoulder to survey the damage and then back to her again.
“Oh, boy. This is going to take a pretty big check.”
“Are you sure this Constantine guy is going to be able to help her?”
“Trust me,” Oliver replies as he pauses over the sink to get himself a glass of water. “If there’s anyone who can help someone harness an uncontrollable force, it’s John Constantine.”
“I do trust you. Your friend John, however, is another story entirely.”
Tommy is by the counter, watching a cooking video on his Palmer Tech smart screen, and eyeing a long carrot in front of him like he’s sizing it up for some contest of wills. He then turns his attention from the screen to the carrot, picking up the knife in his hand and dicing the root vegetable quickly and cleanly, in a polished enough way to make Oliver raise an eyebrow.
“Those are some pretty impressive knife skills.”
“Thanks,” Tommy smirks. “I’ve been trying to pick up something new. I figure that since Laurel is probably going to be taking the night shift with you soon, I might as well make sure that both of you eat.”
Oliver frowns. “What do you mean by that?”
Tommy slides the carrots into the crockpot next to him, before raising an eyebrow at Oliver in return. “Oh, come on. You know the only thing keeping her out of this fight is the skill set. This power could make her an asset rather than a detriment.” Tommy tips his head to the side. “Don’t tell me you didn’t see this coming.”
“I did. But I was kind of hoping I wouldn’t be right,” Oliver admits. “And power doesn’t a skillset make.”
“It’s not just a power. Laurel’s been taking boxing lessons ever since the last time the Huntress kidnapped her, and you could train her instead of trying to push her out of it.”
Tommy could tell by the look on Oliver’s face that he’s not thrilled with either idea, so it doesn’t surprise him when he immediately deflects back to Tommy. “Are you going to be joining us next? Or are you going to be focused on cooking lessons and décor?”
Tommy turns back to him as he reaches for the next ingredient for the food, holding up the knife as he does. “Are you implying that I’m the homemaker in this relationship? Because … I might not disagree with you.”
Oliver smirks. “I don’t think it’s that much of a surprise. You always were, in your way.” He makes his way closer, leaning in as Tommy finishes chopping the last vegetable and putting it in the pot, before replacing the lid and setting the temperature. “But would you be okay with that? If I brought Laurel into this. That’s one more person to worry about.”
“I tend to worry about you both enough already. But I think Laurel wants to be more proactive than reactive, so this could be good for her.” He turns and rests a hand on Oliver’s chest. “So long as you both come home every night, I’ll be okay.”
Oliver nods, his hand coming up to cover over Tommy’s. “I promise I will get her home.”
Tommy notices that Oliver doesn’t include himself in that statement. He knows that Laurel will promise the same, not for herself but Oliver. As long as both of them do their job, both of them will be safe.
He hopes.
Sara’s death brings a whole new host of problems for the city. Between Malcolm brainwashing Thea into doing it, and Ra’s al Ghul wanting to exact justice for her life, it was only a matter of time before Oliver did something stupid. In some ways, Laurel blames herself for not seeing the cracks sooner, given that she spends so much of her time with him, her grief at losing Sara consumes her, and it slips past her radar. Before she knows what’s happening, Oliver is gone, off to pay the debt in his sister’s place.
She and Tommy are close on his heels, or as close as they can be, but it’s still not close enough. By the time they make it to the foot of the mountain, Oliver is plummeting off the top, and Laurel has to suppress the urge to scream, as that might give their position away. He doesn’t fall far, just to a ledge maybe a story below, but he doesn’t get back up once he lands.
Tommy pulls her back into the trees, out of view of anyone who might be descending the mountain, holding her tight and close. “We need to get up there and get to him.”
“How are we going to do that?”
Tommy scans the side of the mountain, eyes calculating. He watches as the League of Assassin members make their way down off the mountain and disappear into the snow, before stepping out of the trees and moving forward. “Follow me. Do exactly what I do.”
She wants to question precisely what he means by that, before watching as he starts to scale the side of the cliff, knowing each handhold and foothold that will get him where he needs to go. She follows in suit, making their way up to the ledge where Oliver’s body waits. Tommy rushes forward, checking him for a pulse.
“It’s faint, but it’s there. Oliver’s still alive.” He then presses a hand against one of the wounds, a deep stab on the right side of his chest – it looks like it’s through his heart, but Laurel’s not a doctor, she can’t say for sure. Tommy then looks up at her. “Get the medkit out of my bag.”
As she starts to make her way around, another shape appears on the ledge, this one dressed in the League’s armor. Laurel tenses sliding easily into a fighting stance, and Tommy looks up as he sees it, but doesn’t move his hands from Oliver. The man holds up his hands as a gesture of surrender.
“Oliver is a friend. I’m here to help.” Silence meets his claim, and he elaborates. “My wife lives in these woods. She’s a healer. She can help him.”
Tommy looks at Laurel. “He’s cold, but he’s also bleeding fast. If we don’t get him help soon, he’s going to die.” She swallows, then nods. He turns back to the unknown assassin. “If you are screwing us? You’ll get to have the fun experience of your brain leaking out your ears. And I’m pretty sure she can scream faster than you can draw your sword.”
The assassin looks over to Laurel, before nodding his agreement. “My name is Maseo.”
“Laurel. And this is Tommy.”
Between the three of them, they managed to patch Oliver up enough for transport and get him to Maseo’s wife, Tatsu. Laurel followed Tatsu’s instructions best she could in terms of preparing herbs and tinctures for Oliver’s wounds, but when she glances over, she sees Tommy watching a video on his phone.
“Tommy, what are you doing?”
“Refreshing my memory,” he replies, in a way that makes no sense, before fishing out the medkit and handing his phone over to Laurel. “I need you to hold this up for me.”
“Why?”
“Because they haven’t finished the procedure yet, and I need to get all the details.”
She glances at the screen and sees that he’s watching what looks like a medical training video. She frowns as he watches his hands in the kitchen sink, before pulling on rubber gloves. “Tommy … ”
“I’ll explain once Oliver’s on the mend. Just … trust me, okay?”
Laurel nods because if there’s anyone she trusts in this world, it’s Oliver and Tommy. She does as she’s told, holding the video at eye level for him and handing him tools as needed. By the time all of Oliver’s wounds are patched up, she thinks she has a better idea of what’s going on.
Once Tatsu has gone to sleep, and she and Tommy curl up for warmth on her couch, she tucks her head against his shoulder. “You weren’t unaffected by the particle accelerator, were you?” Tommy blinks at her in surprise, and she looks up at him with a smirk. “You’re a meta, like me.”
Tommy swallows, then nods. “How’d you figure it out?”
“I just watched you perform amateur surgery on Oliver by watching med school procedure videos. And well, I might add, with zero hesitation. And unless you’ve been going to med school when Oliver and I weren’t paying attention …”
He laughs, before shaking his head. “No, I think you two would have noticed that one.” Then, he shrugs. “I started picking up things really easily. At first, they were just small things – knife techniques from the cooking videos I was watching, things like that. Then I started testing it more and more, picking up different skills along the way and I was doing it fast. Like … I saw it, then I could do it, like that.” He snaps his fingers for emphasis. “I figured it had to be a power of some kind, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”
She nods, a curious expression crossing her face. “You could learn anything with those powers. Even how to fight like Oliver, and you decided to learn medical stuff?”
Tommy shrugs. “You guys seemed like you had enough fighters. I figured what you more likely needed was a healer.”
Laurel smiles as she leans in to kiss him. “I think that was an excellent idea.”
He grins into the kiss. “I’m so glad you agree.” He then turns to face Oliver again, and she rests her head against his shoulder. “I’m going to have to tell him too when he wakes up.”
“Oliver can handle it.” Laurel sighs. “If he can handle me and handle Barry, he will be fine.”
“That is true.” He then watches his friend, his slow, labored breathing rising and falling. “And he better wake up.”
“He will. He’s just watched both of us in this position. Clearly, it was his turn.”
Tommy snorts, before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Can we agree never to do this again? Any of us, ever?”
Laurel laughs, before leaning in to kiss him again. “I think we can certainly try.” Then she tugs him down onto the couch, nestling against him. It’s not an ample space, but it’s just large enough. They hopefully won’t fall onto the floor. “C’mon. We should get some rest. He’s probably going to be out for a while anyway.”
Tommy agrees, and after a day of stress and exhaustion, sleep sounds like the next best thing. Tomorrow, they’ll have to make a plan for the League and everything that is going to come with saving Oliver’s life. But tonight, they’re all together, and they’re all alive.
For now, that will have to be enough.