be us against the world - t - olicity - part 7 [a]
title: we keep all our promises (be us against the world)
category: arrow
genre: drama/romance
chapter rating: pg-13/teen
overall rating: nc-17/explicit
inspiration: gif (source)
word count: 10,017
summary: [au - no island] Oliver Queen has no idea what he's doing with his life, but when his father gives him an ultimatum, he has to figure it out. After meeting Felicity Smoak, he finds himself on a new path and his eyes are opened to what happiness really means and how finding it takes more courage than he ever thought he had.
Previous: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Interlude One, Interlude Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six,
dhfreak
VII.
Oliver was pretty sure that he had reached a whole new level of dick in his personal life. Point in fact, he was on the way to his girlfriend's apartment to finally end their on/off relationship; something that had been a long time coming. But was he worrying about her or what he was going to say? No. No, he was thinking about the woman he'd fallen for while still in that relationship. He just couldn't get it out of his head. Stuck on repeat, he just kept worrying that Felicity wasn't going to forgive him. And he couldn't blame her if she didn't.
Three years.
He'd been with Laurel for three years.
Some days it felt like so much longer than that, and not- not in a good way.
He'd wasted so much time. He'd dragged his feet, acting like it was fine, it would all be okay, he'd deal with it later. A leftover habit from the past, one he'd used far too often to make himself feel better about not dealing with something. And, much like always, it caught up with him. Later was now. He should've done this a long time ago, he knew that. Long before he ever met Felicity, but definitely after he had.
He'd like to say that he grew up, that he'd reached a point in his life, where he didn't avoid responsibility to a point that debilitated him, but he hadn't. Even knowing how important this was, how necessary it was, he still didn't go inside right away. He lingered outside Laurel's apartment building for a long time; too long. Sitting in his car, going over what to say, what was fair, what needed to be said and what didn't. He left one hand on the steering wheel, thumb drumming against it, while the other ran a hand through his hair, his eyes glancing at the clock on the dash periodically. One minute became five and then ten and soon, a whole hour had passed with him doing nothing but procrastinating the inevitable.
It wasn't that he didn't want to break up with Laurel. He'd done this, come here for that exact reason, more times than he could count. But then she'd open the door and she'd smile at him… That bright, beautiful smile of hers, that used to make his stomach twist up with regret. They would argue and she'd yell and throw things and he'd leave, vowing that this time he'd stay away. But then a few weeks would pass and he would come back, with flowers and a half-assed apology, and she would forgive him, because she always did, and the cycle would continue. Only this time was not going to be like the rest.
Felicity hadn't promised him that they would get together after. There was a chance she was never going to forgive him for this. His track record with relationships was a joke, so for them to start on the tail of one riddled with him cheating wasn't exactly a shining endorsement. But the fact remained that, whether Felicity was waiting for him in the end or not, this thing with him and Laurel just couldn't keep happening.
He was tired. Fucking exhausted with the whole thing. The back and forth, off and on, repetition of it all.
With a heavy sigh, he finally pushed the car door open and climbed out. He was on auto-pilot on the way up to her apartment, having walked this same path so many times he could do it in his sleep. He scraped a hand down his face, going over what he wanted to say in his head, his lips moving along to the words. When the elevator doors opened, he took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of his nose before he stepped off.
And then he was there, staring at the gold lettering that marked her door, his fist raised. Swallowing tightly, he knocked, a stuttered noise that seemed oddly uncertain.
Did he hope she answered or did part of him still want to run away?
A bitter smile tugged at his mouth. God, he was such a coward.
When the door swung open, his heart swooped down like a leaden weight to settle in his stomach.
Laurel smiled at him, even as her brow furrowed with confusion. "Hey! I wasn't expecting you tonight. Didn't you get my message? I've got a paper due tomorrow, so my apartment's kind of a mess right now. Books and papers everywhere."
He nodded. And, for just a second, he saw his chance to escape. He could leave, try again tomorrow, pick up where he left off. He could come over in the morning, or maybe later, when she was done school. Felicity would probably want some time to herself anyway. A day or two to wrap her head around things before she wanted to talk it out. So, he had time. He could walk away right now. Except… if he did that, he always would. That was his pattern and it always had been.
His grandfather used to tell him when he was a boy that he should always do the important stuff first. "Don't put anything off that needs doing, Ollie. You do that, you're never gonna get anywhere in life… Take your daddy for instance. Robbie doesn't take no for an answer, does he? No, sir, he knows what he needs to do and he does it! Now, he could learn a thing or two about what's important, but we all got our own priorities, don't we?" And Oliver would always nod and agree, in part because his grandfather was the smartest man he'd ever known, but also because his priorities at the time were praise and love and if he agreed then maybe his grandfather would tell him what a smart boy he was and give him a cookie and a pat on the back.
Laurel was already reaching for the door. "…get together tomorrow, okay? I'll call you when I'm done class."
He put a hand out, pressed to the door so she couldn't close it. "It can't wait."
Her brow furrowed, lips parted with surprise. "Um… okay…" She took a step back. "What's this about?"
He stepped into her apartment, closing the door behind him, and started toward the living room with her hot on his heels. His eyes darted around uncomfortably, his finger picking at his thumb, nervous energy running through him with no outlet.
"Ollie?" she asked, her voice raising a little. "Did something happen? I mean, I know you had another meeting today… Financing for the club, right? How'd it go?"
Jaw twitching, he turned to face her and, with little fanfare, announced, "We got it. Full financing. He cut us a blank check."
"Wh-What?" Her eyes went wide in surprise before she let out a little laugh of excitement. "Oh my God! Ollie! That- That's amazing!" She looked up at him searchingly. "You're going to have your own business! Have you told your dad? He must be so proud of you!" Her face was bright, genuine joy shining in her eyes, and Oliver felt a little twist in his chest. She hadn't been so encouraging about it, but now that it had a real possibility, he could see how quickly she was readjusting the dreams she had of them together.
He half-smiled, devoid of the joy he'd been feeling earlier, and shook his head. "I haven't told my dad. We went out to celebrate after the meeting."
Laurel paused. "Celebrate," she repeated, her head raising. "What? You and Tommy?"
Oliver cleared his throat, unbuttoning his suit jacket. He wondered if it made sense to sit down, or maybe standing was better. She'd probably try to kick him out pretty early on, but he didn't want that. They needed to talk. Not fight, not yell and scream until they were hoarse, but to actually talk. They never did that when they had a problem.
So, he crossed the room, taking a seat in the overstuffed armchair, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his hands over his face, sighing.
He could hear her as she silently moved to the couch, sitting adjacent to him, close but just far enough away that she was out of reach. Did she know what was coming? Had she been expecting this for a while? She had to know they weren't working. They weren't making sense. He'd told her, hadn't he? He'd told her that things with them were never going to really last; they were never going to work forever. That they were just chasing circles that never went anywhere. Because they were. They always were. Right from the beginning, it was all just one endless race toward nothing. They stalled, restarted, and never quite got the right traction. But then, denial was something they'd both embraced early on, wasn't it? And what were words if he never followed through with them?
When he dropped his hands, he turned to look at her, unsurprised to see that she looked worried and wary and had crossed her arms over her chest defensively.
"This isn't working," he finally said, meeting her eyes.
She shook her head, blinking against the tears that were quick to collect.
"Laurel, you're not happy. I don't make you happy. I… I'm never going to be what you want, or what you need, or…" He let out a quick breath. "Or what you deserve."
"That's not true," she said thickly, her lips trembling. "I love you."
He licked his lips, glancing away. "You remember when we got together? It was all so easy… We were young and all that mattered was having fun… I screwed up, I got into trouble, I got arrested, and there you were. You picked me up and you dusted me off, and you told me not to do it again. Told me you wouldn't be there next time. But… you always were. You always will be."
Blinking quickly, she sniffled. "Of course I will. I've always been there for you. You… You're Ollie."
Shaking his head, he blew out a breath. "It's okay to be sick of cleaning up after me. I know you're tired of seeing me in the papers or on TMZ or getting that call at 4 in the morning that I…" He laughed hollowly. "I pissed on some cop's car."
"It was a mistake. You were drunk…" She swiped at her face, wiping tear tracks from her cheeks. "It happens. I forgave you for that."
"That's the problem."
"What?"
"You always forgive me. And you shouldn't." He swallowed tightly, his brows hiking high. "I played off that. I used it because I knew you'd always be there. No matter how much I fucked up or how many times I fucked around on you, you'd always be there. You'd always take me back. And I don't-" He sighed, tapping his fingers on his knee. "I have no idea why. Maybe in the beginning it was because you loved me, because I convinced you I'd be a better guy next time; that I wouldn't do it again… I don't know. But I lied. I lied, Laurel. Because I was never gonna be a better guy. Not the kind of guy you wanted or the guy you needed in your life. I was just… I was an asshole. God, I was a dick. I mean… I wasn't doing anything with my life. I partied all night and slept all day and I ignored everybody telling me to stop wasting my life. The only reason I went to work with my dad was because I didn't want him to cut me off. I wasn't growing up. I didn't make that decision for myself. I just knew that, without his money, I'd have nothing. 'Cause that's all I was. A good time wrapped in too many daddy issues, scraping by on what I learned in charm school."
Laurel stared at him, her eyes wide and her brow furrowed. She didn't understand. Not where he was going or where he was coming from, but he couldn't stop it all from pouring out. The dam was breaking and the flood was overwhelming, but it had been a long time coming and it needed to be said.
He shifted forward on his chair and clasped his hands together, squeezing his fingers when they shook. Emotional intimacy, verbal honesty; these were not his forte.
"When I was eight years old, I used to sit outside and wait for my dad to come home. I'd sit out there all afternoon. I wouldn't eat dinner or do my homework or come inside, not- not until the town car pulled up and I saw him. And every day I thought it'd be different. I thought he'd be happy to see me, you know? That he'd get out of that car and he'd just smile and laugh and grab me up and ask me how my day was and tell me how the best part of his day was coming home and seeing me. Family sitcom stuff, right…? But, he never did. He came home and he sighed and he asked me what I was still doing up, wasn't it past my bed time… And I'd follow him into the house, thinking maybe we could eat dinner together and talk, but…" He shook his head as tears bit at his eyes. "But he'd tell me he was too tired and he'd take his lunch and go to his office, locking the door behind him. And sometimes I'd wait there, too. I'd sit outside his door and hope that maybe he wouldn't be so tired after… But I'd always end up falling asleep. The door would never open. And Raisa would find me, carry me up to my room and tuck me in. She'd kiss my forehead and tell me that my dad loved me, he just…. He was a busy man."
He nodded. "And for a long time, I believed that. I believed he loved me even though he never said it. That I was still important to him even though he never really talked to me. But, then I was, I don't know, twelve, thirteen years old, and… Eventually you just grow out of that, you know? You stop believing things just because other people say them. So, I stopped working so hard to get his attention the right way. I stopped hoping he'd see me and I started making him see me… I let my grades fall, I stopped doing homework so the teacher would call home. And when that didn't work, I told myself I didn't care anymore. I didn't care what he did. But I did. I fucked around at school and I started getting into real trouble and I realized that the only time he ever really talked to me was to tell me I needed to grow up. The cops would drive me home and I'd laugh, I would laugh, because now he had to open that office door and invite me in. Now he had to look me in the eye and remember that he had a son… He had me!"
He blinked quickly and reached up to drag a hand down his mouth. "It got really easy after that, pretending I didn't care… It was so easy to stop trying, stop doing anything, really… It helped that I came from such a respected family, though. So, I didn't get kicked out of school like I should have. And all those colleges wanted me even thought my GPA was shit and my record even worse. Because I was still a Queen even if I was a fuck up. And it looks really good when you've got a billionaire on your roll call…" he scoffed, bitterly.
Grinding his teeth together a moment, he took a moment to collect himself, squeezing the knee of his pant leg under his fingers. But then he looked at her, his mouth pressed in a firm line. "Do you know what I thought when I met you?"
She shook her head vaguely, still overwhelmed with what he'd said.
"I thought… 'Dad's gonna like her. Beautiful, smart, wants to be a lawyer, yeah…' Might as well have picked you out himself." He smiled sarcastically. "You're a lot like him, you know? Motivated. Strong. Stubborn… You were probably the only thing I ever did right in my dad's eyes. He's probably still wondering how I ever got you to give me a chance." He laughed shortly. "But that wasn't the hard part. Being what you wanted, convincing you I could be, that was…"
She'd moved down the couch and reached for him now. "You didn't have to convince me. I… I want to be with you."
He looked down at her hand, curved around his and frowned. "Why'd you stick around?" he wondered. "I hurt you, over and over again. I cheated on you and I treated you like crap. You should've run away from me the first time I messed up. I don't get it. I don't get why you'd waste your time."
"I wasn't! I… You're my first love." She smiled brokenly. "You're… You made mistakes, but it's okay. We all make mistakes. I mean, I'm not perfect. I'm not! And I don't expect you to be!"
"But you had expectations. And you should. The problem is I'm… I'll never live up to them."
"You're wrong. You're… You've got the contract now. You'll have your own business. Ollie!" She let out a faint, soft laugh. "You've worked so hard and you're already doing so much. I see that! I see how far you've come and how much this means to you."
He nodded. "Now."
She paused. "What?"
He stared at her searchingly. "You see it now. But you didn't, when I was starting out. You expected me to fail. You expected me to go back to my dad… And it's okay. You should doubt me. I've done literally nothing to prove I'm anything but a failure."
She shook her head quickly, her mouth open to argue, but he didn't let her.
"The thing is, you're always going to think of me as the guy who cheated on you and never cared about anyone but himself and couldn't be trusted to do anything but make mistake after mistake after mistake. And, for some reason, you'll forgive me for that and you'll let me try again and maybe next time I'll be a little better, maybe next time I'll actually mean it when I say I'm sorry, but I'm never gonna grow up if I'm with you. And you're never gonna be with someone you deserve. Because that guy is a lot better than what I've been to you."
Her voice cracked, "What are you saying?"
He was quiet for a long moment before he finally told her, "I don't want to do this anymore. I don't…"
"You don't what?" She let out a huffing breath, her eyes becoming hard. "You don't want to be with me? Is that it? You don't love me?"
He shook his head. "I'll always love you, Laurel. I'll always care about you."
"Don't." She waved a finger at him, sneering. "Don't lie to me!"
"I'm not lying. You… You were a huge part of my life."
"Right!" She laughed emptily. "So huge that as soon as your life really starts, you just get rid of me…" Shaking her head, she swiped at her tears. "And for what? Because your dad didn't love you enough?" She stabbed a hand at her chest. "Iloved you! I was there for you. I picked you up from the bars and bailed you out of jail and planned out our whole fucking life together, Ollie! I did!"
"What life?" He stared at her. "What life were we going to have, Laurel? What do you think it was going to be like in ten years, huh? You want us to be like my parents? They can barely stand to be in the same room together some days. The life you think we could have, it's a dream. Our reality is more like a nightmare."
She flinched, turning her head away. "We could take some time… You can focus on getting the club going and I can focus on school. Maybe when this is all over, when there's not so much stress, then we can come back to this." She looked back at him hopefully, tears brimming in her eyes. "It wasn't all bad! We can go back to the good times." Reaching out, she gripped his hand. "This is good. We can get it all out on the table, we can talk about it, and when we try this again, it's a clean slate! No more lies. No more cheating. I- I know I haven't been supportive of you and this club and… I didn't know how you felt about your dad. I'm sorry. I regret that. But… you need to talk to me about these things. I can't read your mind. We need to be honest…"
Honest.
His mouth turned up faintly in a sad smile and he let out a breath before he met her eyes.
"You want me to be honest?"
"Yes!"
He paused for a moment, considering what it meant. If it would do more damage than good. But the truth was, this was part of their cycle. If he didn't end it, if he wasn't completely honest with her, what was the point?
"I didn't celebrate with just Tommy tonight," he told her, shaking his head faintly. "A few months ago, before we got back together, I met someone." He felt her hands go slack around his. "We were just friends. She… She caught me by surprise… I don't know. I just kept running into her. And things just… progressed. She's… been there for me, through all this stuff with the club and dealing with everything with my dad…" He rubbed at the furrow of his brows, his voice thick as he admitted, "And I fell in love with her."
Laurel inhaled sharply, her hands falling from around his.
He didn't look at her right away as he continued, not sure he could handle what he'd see in her face. "I didn't mean to. And I knew it was wrong. I knew I was still with you and it wasn't fair, not to either of you. But…I've never felt that way about anyone before and… I didn't want to lose her. So, I tried to just be her friend and I ignored all the problems you and me were having. And Tommy warned me, he told me that I was gonna screw it up, but I didn't listen. I thought I could handle it. I thought… I don't know. I don't know what I thought. I just know that I wasn't ready to deal with our relationship on top of everything else. But that's not working. This-us - we're not working."
Blowing out a heavy breath, he finally looked at her, at the hurt in her eyes and the tears streaming down her splotchy cheeks.
There was a long, tense moment before she asked, "Did you fuck her?"
He shook his head.
"Don't lie. Not now." Her voice was shaking. "Did you fuck her before you came over here to break up with me?"
He struggled for a moment before he said, "I kissed her. But I stopped. The phone rang, I… I knew it was you. I didn't…"
"You didn't what?" She arched an eyebrow at him. "You didn't want to sleep with her when you still had me, is that it? You didn't want to taint what you have with her?"
That… That was pretty close, actually.
She let out a scoffing breath, as if she knew that was exactly why.
Oliver rubbed his hands over his face and sighed. "You have every right to hate me. I'm not going to make any excuses for this. I'm sorry that I hurt you, and I'm sorry that I didn't end things a lot time ago, before any of this happened. I'm just… sorry."
She stared at him, a tear tripping off her lashes. "You're sorry," she repeated. "For hurting me, but not for loving her, right? You broke my heart, but it's okay, because you salvaged hers…" With a snort, she shook her head. "So what's so different about her then, huh? What makes her so special that you're not going to hurt her just like you did me? What happens in a year or two when you've got some half-naked college girl in your club, drunkenly groping you, up for anything? Is Saint Oliver going to suddenly grow a conscience and not cheat? Hm? What happens when you get bored playing the respectable adult, Ollie? Is she going to pick you up from the club or sit behind you in court or convince your parents that you're really trying this time…?"
She glared at him bitterly. "Because you're right, it does get old. And maybe this feels good when everything is all perfect and new and you've got your club, but it's not always going to be like that. One day you're going to wake up and you're going to get cold feet, because you always do when it comes to growing up and commitment, and you're going to do the same old things you've always done. And when I see your stupid face, drunk and grinning on some piece of shit tabloid, I'm going to laugh." She grinned then, full of empty mirth. "Because I dodged one really shitty bullet, but she'll be stuck scraping you off the floor of whatever jail cell they throw you in this time." Standing abruptly from her couch, she stabbed a finger toward the door. "Now, get out."
Mouth folded, he stood from the chair and looked at her, practically vibrating in her anger and betrayal, barely restraining the tears that continued to fill her eyes.
"I know you're pissed at me, and you should be. You don't have to believe me, but I mean it when I say I'm sorry that I hurt you."
"Go," she snapped through gritted teeth.
Without another word, he walked down the hall toward the front door, unsurprised when, as soon as he walked through it, she slammed it closed behind him. He didn't deserve her forgiveness, he knew that, but that didn't mean he didn't regret hurting her.
As he walked down the hall to the elevator, he sighed.
Smiling emptily to himself, he snickered. Tonight was supposed to be full of celebration; instead, he'd broken the hearts of the only two women he'd ever been in love with.
And the award for asshole of the year goes to…
[continue.]