Making Reality Work

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"What are you hiding? No one ever asks that."
-Sarah Vowell

It was rare that Oliver Queen felt the thirst of blood lust. Rare that he wanted to feel someone's blood on his fingers, see that last breath escape their lips.

Oliver was a man who was shipwrecked on an island, who went through long, grueling tasks to find himself back home. When Oliver returned to Starling he didn't know who he was. He knew what he wanted to represent, what he thought his city needed, but for the longest time he didn't truly know who he was. There was always this battle within himself, pulling him to roles he thought he should fill, but none of them truly showed who he was as a person. Over the course of the last couple of months something Oliver didn't expect to happen, actually happened. He discovered who Oliver Queen really was.

He was a father. There wasn't an actual child born yet, but everyday he felt the title of father really become a part of who he was. And it was only made possible by a woman who also helped him realize who he was. Oliver realized that he was hers. In every sense, and every meaning of the phrase, he belonged to her.

So as the man paced aimlessly through the pale halls of the hospital, his mind seemed to erupt with countless thoughts of the woman he'd just witnessed being rolled away on a stretcher. He was trying to imagine a life where he was told that the woman whisked away from him wouldn't be coming back. For some reason he couldn't imagine it, he couldn't see a future with such a moment. Because he was Oliver Queen and he only existed to be that unborn child's father, and he lived to love that woman unconditionally and if he could do neither of those things then in all actuality there was no Oliver Queen.

At some point Felicity showed up at the hospital, and then his sister, and somewhere during that time Laurel and John arrived. At various moments they tried talking to him, trying to get him to tell them what happened, but it was strange because Oliver saw them, knew they were near him and yet he didn't hear a word from their mouths. He continued to pace. He didn't pace, because pacing was the same as walking in place, and walking in place was the same as not moving. And not moving was the same as doing nothing. For some reason right now pacing didn't feel like he was doing nothing. In all reality he was going over every moment of this night. From getting out of bed, and not seeing her, to walking out and seeing her standing there holding an envelope. It always ends with the frightened look on her face as she collapses. That moment is etched in his memory. Making that blood lust so much stronger. He was going to find out who did this and they were going to pay dearly.

When the woman who was almost killed in a possible explosion just hours prior, then is suddenly rushed to the hospital, suspicions start to rise. It's why Captain Quentin Lance showed up at the hospital the moment he found out the news. His daughter spotted him first and quickly went over to him.

"Hey, there any news?" he asked when she walked over.

"Not yet." Laurel replied. "Has the police been to her place, yet?"

"Yeah, no one saw or heard anything. There are no prints on the envelope, and no DNA has been found." Lance said looking back over to Oliver. "All I have is him. The only person with her when this happened." Quentin was about to walk over, but his daughter caught his arm.

"Oliver isn't ready for your questions right now." Laurel said with a shake of her head. "The last time he saw Katie she was unconscious and he hasn't heard anything yet. Just give him some time." Lance let out a sigh. He understood what she was saying, knew he could probably wait, but he wanted to find the person behind this as soon as possible.

"Fine." Lance replied. "I'm going to head back to the station. I have some guys combing through surveillance footage from surrounding buildings to see if they can see anything. Call me when there is news." Laurel gave her father a nod before watching the man rush off.

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