Foundation: Focus, Strength, Tension, Draw, Release

Summary: A series of inter-connected one shots that deal with Oliver and Malcolm. It also deals with Oliver's return from the island, and some issues he might have had with acclimating. Not slash (currently)

Focus

Oliver found himself hesitating, a new trait he had developed since returning to Starling City. In a fight, he never faltered, and he hadn't against those thugs that had taken him and Tommy. Social outings, on the other hand, he couldn't make it through without wondering if it would have been better if he had stayed home. However, he knew he had to at least make an effort. People expected it of him.

After the welcome home bash Tommy threw, Oliver had figured he had done a good enough job for a few days. So in that time, he had set up more of the foundry and got to work deciding who on the list would be next. He hadn't paid much attention to his phone; it was still odd to think of cell phones as a reliable means of communication after the island. When he got back to it, he had missed multiple calls from both Thea, Moira, and Tommy. He had easily explained his absence to his family as adaptation, but he had to think of a good excuse for Tommy.

The younger Merlyn figured Oliver would fall right back into routine, and he hadn't exactly challenged that. He had tried to pretend nothing had changed, at least at face value, but the first few days had been difficult. The island made sense to him in the end; all the people that crowded him now wondering why he was different didn't.

Since Oliver had to keep up the illusion that he was nothing more than a party boy, he had decided to just visit Tommy directly today. Perhaps the two could go bar-hopping even though Ollie didn't want to drink. Alcohol dulled the senses, and he had too much to focus on. He could fake a night of it for his best friend though.

That in mind, he knocked and waited patiently as possible. Nonetheless, he couldn't help as he took in everything around him. He watched gardeners at work, he checked the cars in the driveway; if there was something to note, he did. No matter how long he was back, he doubted the need to be sure of his surroundings would ever go away. He had faced too much on the island; he wasn't paranoid, just ready for anything.

The door opening snapped Ollie back to the present, and he quickly relaxed his muscles. He turned expecting to see Tommy, not his father. Since returning, he hadn't actually seen Malcolm, and he wasn't sure what to think of that. The elder Merlyn had been his father's best friend, and to Ollie's knowledge, he hadn't even called the house.

If Oliver didn't know any better, he would have thought Malcolm was avoiding his family for the moment. The shock on Malcolm's face was quick, but Oliver saw it anyway. He watched as the elder Merlyn seemingly relaxed his posture similarly.

"Oliver," Malcolm stated friendly enough. "It's good to see you." He gestured to allow Oliver to enter the house. "How's re-adjusting to the city life going?"

"Traffic sucks," he shrugged not wanting to talk about the changes. If he was going to put a show on for Tommy that the island hadn't changed him, then he didn't want the reminder that it had. "Otherwise, well enough I suppose." He gave Malcolm a smile, albeit forced.

"That's good," he said clapping Oliver on the shoulder. The response was hard to suppress; he couldn't help but tense. However, he didn't hesitate in forcing himself to relax; he didn't believe that Malcolm noticed. And if the elder Merlyn had, it wouldn't have mattered much. Oliver was sure the other man would brush it off to acclimation and not the urge to defend himself.

When Oliver met Malcolm's gaze though, he could see the calculating look. Hastily Ollie continued, "It's also louder here. Off balancing." Malcolm nodded and dropped his hand away.

"I'm sure the island wasn't very loud."

"All alone," Ollie lied, "No it was dead silent."

That was the moment Tommy chose to show up in the foyer, and he immediately gave Oliver a hug. "I didn't know you were planning on stopping by today. I thought after our welcome home party, you would be out of commission for at least a few more days."

"I still know how to hold my alcohol," Oliver joked. "Or did you forget in the time I was gone?"

"I wasn't talking about the alcohol," Tommy implied.

"You two boys try to stay out of trouble," Malcolm said as he retreated away. Oliver watched him carefully noting that Merlyn glanced over his shoulder slightly. Their eyes met for the briefest of seconds before Oliver was back to joking with Tommy.

"I know of an excellent club," Tommy was explaining, and Oliver just went along with it. "Lots of drinks, lots of girls."

Later that night, Oliver found himself forcefully pushing his way out of the club. He took to an alley and leaned back against the wall taking deep breaths. He hadn't been lying to Malcolm when he had said it was too loud. There were too many people in the city, and all the sounds were disorienting at best. The club had probably not been the best of ideas this soon, but he knew it would only take him a minute to re-focus and head back in. Tommy probably didn't even realize he had disappeared.

"Hey pretty boy, why don't you hand over your very nice watch and wallet?" some guy growled coming up next to Oliver. In his hand was a knife, and he had two more thugs standing nearby. "Don't make me have to cut up that nice face of yours…"

Oliver pursed his lips and didn't even bother to respond verbally. Instead he jabbed out catching the would-be mugger in the throat. The knife clattered to the pavement, out of reach and use of the criminals. He quickly continued by throwing the mugger into the concrete and kicking out catching another one in their side. With a right hook, he flattened the last mugger. The three stared up at Oliver in a mix of shock and fear.

"Hey man, we didn't mean it," the crook said against the wall, his hands up defenseively. "We'll just get…" He stopped, but Oliver could see why. The one mugger on the ground had retrieved the knife and attacked.

Oliver stepped back, the knife barely knicking his suit and probably skin; he had seen the attack coming but he hadn't wanted to warn the mugger that he knew that. So he had let the idiot get in close, too close that the mugger wouldn't be able to have a counter-attack. Oliver snatched the knife arm and threw the man into the other mugger. They both slammed hard into the wall. The one still standing seemingly finally got the idea that this wasn't working and bolted.

The Hood would have followed, but Oliver felt that the persona wasn't needed in this case. The muggers would be unreliable, and Ollie hadn't shown enough of his ability to be labeled the vigilante. Instead, he straightened his suit and went to leave the alley.

Tommy was on the sidewalk, looking around, and Oliver barely hesitated in the alley. The fight, while not much of one, had helped him to concentrate and pull his act back into one piece. He was half-tempted to go suit up, but as he stared at Tommy, he realized he couldn't exactly ditch his friend. He didn't want to deal with the questions tomorrow, so he walked into his friend's eye line.

Tommy grinned stupidly and wrapped an arm around Oliver. "Where'd you go?" he asked, obviously drunk.

"Thought I saw that brunette head out here," he easily said even there was no brunette to start. "Come on, we should probably get you home."

"No, no, no," Tommy countered. "We need to get back in there. You have so much still to catch up on."

"Another night," Oliver sighed guiding Tommy to the car they had taken together. He unceremoniously dumped Tommy in the passenger seat. Diggle appeared from the alley, but Oliver had already climbed into the driver's seat and sped away without his bodyguard. Diggle had become increasingly harder to ditch for long periods, and Ollie wasn't sure how much longer it would take before Diggle just handcuffed them together. That would make his nights just a tad bit more difficult to manage.

Back at the Merlyn residence, Oliver helped Tommy to the door and then to the couch. Tommy collapsed against it with a groan, one hand clasped over his face. The hangover tomorrow would be wicked and unrelenting if Oliver didn't at least set out a glass of water. His memory of the residence was intact as he quickly located the kitchen.

He was just finishing filling a glass when a voice broke out, "I figured you two would be out longer."

Oliver relaxed and shrugged in response to Malcolm's unspoken question. He watched as the elder Merlyn invaded his personal space, and he found that he gripped the glass tighter. He had to be careful or risk it breaking.

"You didn't drive did you?" he continued.

"I didn't drink that much," Ollie lied. He hadn't drank at all. "And I figured better me than Tommy." He went to push past Malcolm. "I'm just going to take this to Tommy, and I'll be gone."

The elder Merlyn narrowed his gaze and snatched part of Oliver's suit. "What happened?" he asked referring to the minor cut.

"Huh," Oliver frowned. "Club was packed. I got nicked probably doing some scuffle." He wanted to get out of there.

"You should clean that."

"I will when I get home." Oliver could tell Malcolm wanted to say something more.

"Come," Malcolm said. "Better to just do it now. Then you can head home."

Oliver wanted to argue, but he couldn't think of a reason the elder Merlyn would accept without suspicion. So with a smile, he nodded and followed Malcolm to a dining room. He was told to sit, remove his jacket, and wait. He followed the first and last order well enough, but he wasn't sure how comfortable he was with stripping any of his clothes off. He worried that if he took his jacket off, Malcolm would push to get the shirt off to better look at the cut… and Oliver didn't want anyone else seeing his scars; they brought up too many questions. Thus, he hesitated.

"I can do this myself," Oliver tried to argue when Malcolm returned, but apparently, that wasn't good enough.

"Come on Oliver," he sighed, and there wasn't anything for the young Queen to do besides listen. He couldn't continue to argue and risk the questions that might arise, so he pulled his jacket off and hoped that it would be enough. "How do you not know how you got this?" Malcolm asked pulling the shirt away at the sight of the cut to see that it wasn't deep, simply long.

Oliver decided a bit of truth might dissolve suspicion, so he answered, "There was a lot going on in the club. I couldn't exactly focus on anything specifically, so no I'm not entirely sure how I got it."

"Disorienting?" Malcolm asked.

"Everything is," he sighed and nodded. "People want me to be the person they remember, and it's hard to fall back into old habits."

"Perhaps you should stop trying to be who you were," he suggested as he wrapped a bit of gauze around the cut and taped it down. Oliver had been right that he could have probably taken care of it himself. The unanswered question hung in the air: who was Oliver now? The Hood could have answered that, but that wouldn't be the answer Malcolm would want Oliver thought.

"Perhaps." Oliver shrugged his jacket back on. "Thank you Mr. Merlyn. You and Tommy should come over for dinner sometime. It will be good to have everyone back." Oliver changing the subject worked well enough that Malcolm nodded.

Nonetheless as Malcolm watched Oliver walk away, he couldn't shake the feeling that Oliver was walling something away… he had seen how Robert's son reacted to stimuli, and he could tell that the boy had been through enough. It made him wonder how different this new Queen truly was.