What's wrong with us when happy hurts

We could just hang out like we used to

Notes:

This chapter was hard to write. I blame some of it on the Arrow writers...

Not sure about the flow but I don't know how to change it either, been writing and rewriting it a lot... oh, well it is what it is...

I hope you guys enjoy it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 17

We could just hang out like we used to Even though at times it seemed We were more like enemies

Dinah

Dinah walked into the living room where she found Quentin on the same armchair he had been on when she first arrived. She looked at her ex-husband and couldn't help but say the first thing that came to her mind, and it was not at all what Quentin had expected, given the surprised and bewildered look on his face. Dinah had trouble keeping the amusement off of her own face.

"Do you also sometimes look at Oliver and see that cute, mischievous, slightly spoiled seven-year-old boy with a heart of gold Laurel first brought home for a school project, instead of the very tall, muscular and serious grown man he has turned into?" She was aware how unusual her question was given the circumstances, but she couldn't help but think about the young boy Oliver used to be. The young boy he had reminded her so much of back in Sara's room, which had led to her initiating the hug, she had felt when he had held on a little tighter, the way he had swallowed hard and his misty eyes when he had let her go. This entire situation was just as hard on him as it was her daughter, only Sara had both of her parents here with her, supporting her. Thea was the only family the young man had left. Well, that wasn't true, Thea was the only blood relative he had left, both Queen siblings had pretty much been adopted by her and Quentin long before Thea went to preschool. She had always considered Oliver, Thea and Tommy as part of her family. And she would be damned if she would not make sure that Oliver knew that, especially now.

She and Moira had had their differences, but they both agreed on one thing and that was their children and how much they loved them and she would make sure that Moira's children would be okay. That Oliver would be taken care of in this very difficult time. She, just like Moira, had made mistakes when it came to her daughters and she had and still was doing her best to make up for those. She knew there was nothing she could do to erase the pain she had caused Laurel when she had decided to move to Central City.

It had never been her intention to cause her daughter even more pain than she was already in. She had been afraid, afraid of Laurel and Quentin finding out that she had seen Sara before she left, that she could have, should have stopped her from leaving. She had been so afraid that they would hate her and she would lose them should they ever learn the truth.

The irony was not lost on her.

She abandoned them to keep them from learning the truth and rejecting her, and lost them because of her choice. And when she had finally, finally told them how Sara's death was her fault, they hadn't even hated her for it.

She had lost both of her daughters and it had all been her own fault.

She had never meant for Laurel to end up carrying the burden of taking care of Quentin. Dinah had known that he was in a dark place and tried to help him, tried to get him to go to therapy with her, but he had refused. Had chosen to bury himself in work instead of dealing and trying to work through the loss of their youngest daughter. She hadn't known how bad his drinking had become; she hadn't known that Laurel would end up having to take care of her by then alcoholic father.