Supercode—thank you for giving me those very inspirational ideas, because writing this fic for you was great fun. I combined elements of two of the prompts you have given me. I hope you will like how it turned out. As you had said—outside my usual wheelhouse, but that's what challenges like this one are for. :)

AU after fourth season of Arrow and second season of Flash—no Flashpoint.

Merry Christmas!

Many thanks to Perosha for beta.

To Another Earth

There were quite a number of memories that kept haunting Oliver. Each of them was an unwanted burden, pressing down on him—sometimes, when they flashed before his eyes, forcing their way into his mind, he thought he wouldn't be able to deal with them anymore. He felt shattered to pieces and sick at heart, and on such occasions it was very difficult to pull himself together.

Although until now he had always managed to find renewed motivation and focus on his mission, there was one particularly painful memory he was sure he would never be able to keep at bay—the night it had all started.

A small raft, lost on the vast emptiness of the unmerciful sea. And the last words of his father... back then he was not aware of their importance, how they would shape his path and determine every choice he will make.

"You can survive this, make it home, make it better, right my wrongs, but you got to live through this first. You hear me, Ollie? You hear me, son?"

Oliver is half-conscious, stiff from the cold. He tries to brush off what Dad has just told him, thinking that he is raving. He mutters to him to get some rest. The next moment he opens his eyes wide in shock. His father reaches for the gun he has hidden in the inside pocket of his waterproof jacket and shoots a crewmember who has made it to the raft with them.

"Survive," says Robert Queen, looking straight at his son and pointing the gun barrel to his own head.

Oliver is terrified. Too terrified to do something. Time seems to flow in slow motion and yet he has no chance to stop Dad when he pulls the trigger.

The loud thud of gunfire.

Robert Queen is dead before his body touches the bottom of the raft...

Oliver drew in sharp breath. He blinked, looking blankly at the cityscape. The sky was clean and lightened by the glow of innumerable lights from the busy downtown. Suddenly he was again aware of the muffled sounds of cars' engines and horns reaching up to the roof he was standing on, as if someone had turned the volume all the way up.

It took a while before he reminded himself where he was. Not Starling, but Central. This time it was Barry who needed his help, not the other way around. It seemed that someone was secretly producing a new version of Vertigo, thinking rather naively that their activity wouldn't be noticed by a vigilante who was focused on stopping dangerous metahumans. But what they failed to acknowledge was that it would certainly be of interest to his hooded friend wielding a bow. Oliver had done some detective work, but he wasn't sure about the exact location of the place where the drug was manufactured—he didn't know the city well enough. But fortunately it was not a problem for the Flash. Once he roughly knew where to look for those guys, he just combed the whole area. Before they realized it, they had been put behind the bars. This time Oliver hadn't had too much to do.

He noticed a familiar flash of golden lighting, moving between long torrents of cars, streaming on the alley down below. Moments later he felt a gust of wind and the Flash appeared at his side, with two steaming takeaway cups in his hands. Barry insisted that they should somehow celebrate the success, and before Oliver actually had a chance to voice his opinion, Barry had run away, shouting over his shoulder that coffee is on him.

If he had known that this coffee would contribute to spilling a certain secret he was determined to keep away from Oliver, he probably wouldn't have been so eager to drop in Jitters.

"I'm back!" said Barry. "Here. Brought The Flash for you too."

"You're kidding, right?" asked Oliver, glancing suspiciously at the cup Barry was offering him.

"Okay, it's double Americano. You won't be able to sleep tonight."

Oliver shifted his bow from right to left hand and took the cup from the Flash. He didn't share his concerns. There were things other than coffee that kept him awake at nights.

"Thanks." He took a sip. The coffee was black and as strong as he liked it. Well, maybe it wasn't that bad of an idea, especially since the night was quite chilly.

"Hey, Oliver, are you with me?" asked the Flash, when Oliver haven't spoken for a very long moment, still disturbed by the ghost of the memory from the night of Queen's Gambit catastrophe.

"Yeah. I was just...thinking," he muttered. "About my father."

"Any particular reason?"

"You know...sometimes that memory of him...killing himself. It slips into my mind, and I can't do anything about it," admitted Oliver, feeling as if a heavy weight bore down on him—the weight of the promise he had made to him. It was hard to believe that he had lived this kind of life for almost ten years now. All that time he tried to right his father's wrongs. And so far he'd failed.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. I can't get it out of my head about Zoom and my father..." The Flash broke off. He wasn't able to finish the sentence. It had been only a couple of months since Zoom killed Barry's father. Oliver knew he hadn't completely healed and he never would. Painful, tragic things like that stayed with you forever. Barry tried to carry on with living, to run without looking back. Similarly to Oliver's case, helping ordinary people became his way to deal with tragedies in his life. An anchorpoint, as the Green Arrow would say.

"So much has happened ever since I became the Flash. Sometimes I feel as if before, I hadn't even lived...You know what I mean?"

Oliver nodded. He knew all too well.

"Our lives became weird," he said. "And crazy. That's why you have to enjoy some calm moments. Like having a cup of coffee."

Barry smiled lightly and added: "Especially if it's shared with a friend."

"Yeah, especially."

Spontaneously they started to talk about what they had each been through during the crazy part of the year—somehow there was no time to fill in each other before, and it seemed as if their cities were not separated by three hundred miles, but located in entirely different universes. Barry was not the only one dealing with loss. Oliver still grieved over Laurel—it was such an unexpected and unnecessary death that he was sure that he never would be at peace with it. At some point Barry mentioned Earth-2. Maybe a year ago Oliver would have been really surprised. But up to this moment he had seen almost everything, and with the appearance of the Flash, everything became possible. He fully expected an alien attack to happen next. So he only mentioned casually:

"You've never told me about that one."

"Man, it was so strange. I mean, seeing the world that look so much like our own, but so different at the same time. And meeting all of those doppelgangers was so weird. Especially that other Barry, and Iris, and Joe...And Cisco and Caitlin...that was totally insane, they were pure evil."

Oliver, struck by a sudden thought, stopped to drink his coffee.

"What about others? Did you come across my doppelganger? Or anyone from Star?"

He wondered if that other Earth had the Green Arrow as well. Or what counterparts of his friends were doing in that other world.

If Barry had simply said that he'd had no chance to encounter anyone from outside Central, Oliver would probably have just moved on to another topic. But Barry suddenly choked on his coffee.

"Uhm, well, actually..." he uttered.

"Barry, what is it?" asked Oliver, shooting him a very suspicious glance.

"Uhm, nothing, I've just choked, the coffee is very hot, and..."

"It's not hot any more. And Barry, you're a terrible liar. What are you hiding?"

The Flash took a deep breath. He hesitated for a long while, but eventually broke under that silent pressure.

"I should have told you about this a long time ago," he sighed.

"Told me what?"

"How could you keep this from me, Barry?" asked Oliver. His voice sounded completely calm, and that actually made the Flash much more tense than if he had openly shown anger.

Oliver stood before the computer console, his hood and mask down, arms folded on his chest. The expression of his face was completely unreadable. His eyes were riveted to the screen, showing the view from one of the cameras installed in the pipeline. A small holding cell could be clearly seen, as well as its only occupant—a dark-haired woman. She was sitting on a plain bed with her back against a wall. The long flaps of her black coat brought to mind broken wings. She looked rather downcast.

"I can see you've introduced some improvements to the cells in your prison," said Oliver, not even trying to hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"Look, Oliver, we've been over this topic before..." Barry started to speak but fell silent, after his friend shot him a very grim look. Some time ago Oliver had told him a few harsh words about their prison for metahumans and the conditions they had been kept in. The Flash tried to argue that Oliver also had a similar facility for his enemies, located on Lian Yu, but was quickly corrected on this. The prison in question was under A.R.G.U.S. jurisdiction. Oliver mentioned that he had seen the inside of small cells like those in the pipeline too many times to not pay attention to how inhuman it was to lock up the metas there, no matter what they had done. When Joe learned about that conversation, he commented sarcastically that the Arrow didn't have that problem since he often killed his enemies. But he admitted that the prison in S.T.A.R. Labs was also rubbing him the wrong way. All of that made Barry and his team rethink how the cells in the pipeline were arranged.

"I want to speak with her," announced Oliver dryly.

"Oliver, don't do this to yourself," said Cisco, who so far was silently listening to their conversation, sitting behind the computer's screens and pretending that he even wasn't here. "It's not Laurel. She only looks like her."

Now it was his turn to feel uneasy when the Green Arrow's gaze met his eyes.

"Okay, I get it," sighed Cisco. "But don't tell me that I didn't warn you..."

Black Siren turned her head sharply toward the opening doors. After rotting in that awful place for over three months—or maybe four, as she had lost the exact count of days a long time ago—she knew when they were coming to deliver the meals for the prisoners. And it was not one of those hours. For a moment she was genuinely surprised by the sight of the Green Arrow, but quickly hid behind a veneer of malignancy and contempt. Being kept here made her frustrated and angry. She would gladly lash out all the feelings bottled up in her at someone. And it seemed that a suitable target had just appeared in the vicinity. Maybe inside the cell her sonic scream was useless, but she still had a biting tongue at her disposal.

"Well, well, well, isn't it the green-hooded boyfriend of a certain dead birdie?" she asked sarcastically. "What are you doing here, archer? Did you come to have a look at someone who is confusingly similar to her and weep?"

The Green Arrow's expression hadn't changed , but she could bet that her greeting must have shaken him at least a tiny bit. That fool had probably thought, despite all reasoning, that she was like the Black Canary. Well, she was determined to prove otherwise.

"I didn't know you were here," he said finally.

"Yeah, sure," she scoffed. "As if I'm gonna believe you."

"The Flash told me you've been working with Zoom."

"I was," she admitted curtly. "So what?" she asked, getting to her feet and slowly approaching the glass wall that separated her from him. "Are you devastated because it clashes with your perfect image of your late miss goody-two-shoes? Reality check, Robin Hood. I'm not her. She's dead. Gone. Forever. And as I've heard, it's because of you. Not too great of a superhero, aren't you?" she needled him.

She noticed that she had hurt him. She thought that she would enjoy this moment, but deep down she felt less satisfaction than she had expected. Maybe because he wasn't that fun of a target to mock after all. She had to admit that his silent composure was unnerving. There was also something...disturbingly familiar in him. She had a feeling as if she had seen that chin before...

"How long do you plan to stare at me?" she asked, when he remained silent for a long while. "Can you just leave me alone?"

Oliver started to regret that he'd come down here. It was so strange to even look at her. As if it was Laurel mixed with Helena's dark nature and Carrie Cutter's tinge of craziness. But there was nothing in her that would bring to mind Cupid's seductive and playful behavior. Black Siren seemed to be a very vile woman. Or at least he would be sure of that, if he hadn't had a good look at the expression in her eyes. They had told her story the most vividly. There was some deep sadness in them, mixed with a sense of defeat. She attacked him furiously, but she knew how futile it was. And he could only wonder what she had been through that had turned her into apparently a very bitter and vindictive creature. The fact that she was surely also furious due to her imprisonment didn't help at all. She didn't want to talk with him. She wanted to hurt someone who was an ally of the people who locked her up in that prison.

He should just leave. But he simply couldn't turn back on Laurel...on Laurel's doppelganger...without checking one more thing. It was as much stupid as tempting, and since he had nothing to lose he might as well take a risk. With that thought, he took down his mask and pulled off his hood.

Black Siren, who was observing his doings quite indifferently, opened her eyes wide in shock.

"No...It cannot be. Not of all people..." she muttered. She turned away from him, apparently not wanting him to see the expression of her face. But her mask had dropped. Just as he had thought, it seemed Oliver Queen of that other Earth wasn't a stranger to her.

"Based on your reaction, I would say that my doppelganger wasn't completely unknown to you. I would even say that he meant quite a lot to you," said Oliver sternly. "Maybe even as much as Laurel meant to me..." he added.

"Meant as much to me as to you?" she echoed and glanced at him over her shoulder. Her eyes were dry, but he was sure that holding up cost her a lot. "I haven't screwed his brother on a yacht, if that's what you have in mind. If Oliver had a brother...Oh, are you surprised that I know that? I did some research after I came here. Read all I could find about my doppelganger. And also about you. So damn disappointing that someone like you is a counterpart of my Oliver," she said with a bitter laugh. However, her voice shook a bit when he mentioned that name.

"What happened to him?"

Black Siren turned away her gaze.

"He died on that island," she answered finally. "I guess you didn't know that, did you?"

There was a very long moment of silence, before Black Siren spoke again.

"I bet there are many things your friends didn't tell you about my Earth," she said, coming closer to the glass wall again. Something changed in her behavior. Suddenly she seemed to be much more self-assured than before, as if she realized that she had an ace up her sleeve. "Did your fast-running pal mention a curious thing about my Earth's Arrow?" she asked casually.

"What about him? Since your Oliver, as you said, died, there was no one to..." Oliver started to say, but was interrupted by her.

"And here you're mistaken...Ollie. So very mistaken..." she said with a small smile dangling on her lips, and in that moment she reminded him Amanda Waller for a change. Half sneer, half deprecation—it could give anyone the creeps. Oliver sensed that she knew something that he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"On my Earth Robert Queen is the Arrow. Or rather was, as he was captured and unmasked. They locked him up. And, as it happens, I know where they're keeping him.."

Oliver felt a cold shiver run down his spine. His father...Well, his father's counterpart had become...the Arrow?

"Let's make a deal. Get me out of this prison, take me back to my Earth and I'll help you break him out. What do you say to that?"

It didn't take Oliver long to decide. Barry and Cisco tried to talk him out of it, trying to explain that in fact, just like Black Siren, that other Robert Queen had nothing to do with his father. Oliver saw sense in their words, but once he allowed the idea to get into his head, he couldn't bring himself to abandon it. Some version of his father was alive and in huge trouble. He couldn't leave him to spend the rest of his days in prison. Finally, when they realized that he was adamant about this venture, they gave up.

"Well, at least we'll get rid of the problem called Black Siren," sighed Cisco.

The jump to another Earth was not exactly a morning stroll by the seaside, but not as risky as it was the first time Cisco and Barry went there accompanied by a doppelganger of Harrison Wells. Since Cisco got a hold on his powers, he was able to vibe people from one Earth to another. He could open and close a portal at will, and even set a specific destination point for the exit side of it, thanks to tech he got from Harry—they still kept in touch. It came in handy now, as Oliver's and Black Siren's destination was Starling City—his companion mentioned that the name of the city had never changed.

She didn't cause any trouble when she was let out of her cell. She only shot cold glances at Cisco and Barry, but mostly kept to the side, waiting till Oliver was ready to go. When she saw him in normal clothes—blue jeans, gray sweater and a brown leather jacket—she said nothing, but the expression of her face softened a bit, as if that view had brought her some fond memories.

Only when she heard Cisco muttering something to himself about all of them being crazy to let her out, knowing what kind of destruction she could cause, she remarked sarcastically:

"It would be rather stupid to bring down a building I'm in, wouldn't it?"

Oliver needed no more than twenty minutes to pack. He put his costume into a backpack, as well as a laptop and a phone with GPS he borrowed from Cisco, and a few other necessary things. He had a separate case for his bow that also contained a small set of arrows. He put some more into a tube he attached to the backpack.

"Maybe I should go with you?" offered Barry.

"You have a city to watch over," answered Oliver. "Besides...I know it's a crazy escapade. I wouldn't dare ask you to accompany me."

"Here." Cisco gave him a device that looked like a old-fashioned compass, not much bigger than a locket. "It's an inter-dimensional extrapolator, Don't lose this, please, unless you want to get stranded. Just press here when you will want me to bring you back. It will send a vibe to our Earth and help me to pinpoint your location..."

"Got it," said Oliver, and hung it around his neck as if it was a locket. It was surprisingly light.

Black Siren stood a few feet away, her arms folded over her chest.

"Are you ready yet?" she asked impatiently. "I want to get back home."

"And we're more than eager to send you there," said Cisco sarcastically from behind the console. "Oliver?"

"I'm ready," confirmed Oliver, and shouldered the backpack.

"Okay. Just go straight through, it will take only a moment..." instructed Cisco. "And better keep close to each other. There shouldn't be any turbulence, but better safe than sorry."

"Good luck," Barry wished him. Oliver nodded and turned toward the opened portal. It looked very peculiar—a waving and shifting mass of something that looked partially like mist and partially like fluid, of violet, blue and silver, and other shades of colors he couldn't even describe.

To his surprise, Black Siren approached him and took his free hand as if it were the most natural thing to do. They stepped into the portal together.

It turned out that there was some turbulence after all, because they landed rather hard. Or rather, to be precise Oliver, would have been able to keep his balance if Black Siren hadn't crashed onto him. It was an awkward moment, with him lying on his back and her on top of him. She shot him a somehow disturbed glance and quickly got back to her feet, moving away from him as if she had been burned. She pushed her hair more or less into place, looking a bit embarrassed. Oliver also raised himself up, picking up his bow case.

They had landed on the edge of some woodland, located on a small hill quite close to a neighborhood of the city. In the distance a cityscape was visible. At first look, Oliver wasn't able to tell how different that Starling was from his hometown, although from this vantage point he could see the whole panorama. For one thing, it seemed that there were many more skyscrapers in the business centre. And the port...it looked huge, and apparently was very busy, as he noticed many ships moored by the piers.

Suddenly Oliver had an impression that he was missing something. He turned away. And saw Black Siren, holding the extrapolator in her hand.

"Didn't you lose something?" she asked with a touch of irony. "You know, it's really tempting to destroy it and leave you stranded here..."

"Then you would be stuck with me forever," remarked Oliver calmly.

"Quite true. And this is a course of events we both would like to avoid." She threw the extrapolator back to him. "Watch out for your toy."

"What's next?" asked Oliver, making sure that the device representing his return ticket was safely back on his neck.

"Well, your friend granted us a two-mile walk before we get to my place. You can stay there until you put your little rescue plan into operation."

"I must admit I was hoping you might say something of the sort."

"Yeah, just don't get too accustomed to that idea. I've said that I'll help you and I intend to keep my word. Besides...Robert doesn't deserve what they've done to him. He had always been kind to me," she said. Oliver glanced at her thoughtfully—it was almost as if she dropped her mask a bit. He still didn't trust her, but he could bet that she was not as stone-cold as she pretended to be. He wondered what her relationship with the Queen family was like on this Earth. And what about the Lances? Laurel and Quentin had such a strong bond...Was Black Siren close with her father?

It didn't take them long to enter the edges of the inhabited area. He noticed that although Black Siren made no effort to stay away from view, she got a little tense and wary, and eyed suspiciously everyone they passed. Oliver could only wonder about the status metahumans had in this world. He learned from Barry that after the terror spread by Zoom and his supporters, ordinary people had a good reason to be afraid of them. Still, no one paid any attention to them, and eventually Black Siren seemed to relax a bit.

Oliver was focused on studying the unfamiliar environment, trying to memorize everything that might later be of some to use to him. The houses didn't look any different, but instead of plain lawns outside they usually had huge gardens, planted with different types of bushes and exotic-looking flowers. Most cars, however, seemed to be pulled straight from the 60s or 70s, and brought to mind pictures he had seen from Cuba—over there everything seemed to get frozen in time, and he got a similar impression right now. This Earth was a strange mix of advanced technology and vintage looks, for lack of better word.

"Funny that you haven't ask where they're keeping Robert," said Black Siren suddenly, cutting into his train of thought. Oliver glanced at her questioningly.

"Well, some prison I guess? Iron Heights most likely...If it's called Iron Heights on this Earth, of course..."

"Wrong again. Once they captured him, it didn't take them long to decide what to do with the Arrow problem," she said enigmatically.

"So, where is he?" he urged her. Her tendency to speak in riddles was getting annoying.

"St. Walker's mental hospital," she answered. "Oh, I see you know that place," she added with a mischievous smile, noticing his stunned expression.

"You can choose as your sleeping place whichever part of the floor suits you the best. I've got only one bed." It was almost the first thing Black Siren said when they arrived at her place. She didn't add that she had no intention of sharing it with him, but she didn't need to.

"Works fine for me," answered Oliver. Any dry place with a roof over his head was good enough for him, especially since it was much more that he'd had on the island. Not to mention that he planned to spend the next few days observing the hospital. The revelation about the place his father...the counterpart of his father...ended up was kind of a shock for him. The only good thing in all that was that the hospital didn't have as tight of security as a prison.

Black Siren's place was not as spacious as Laurel's flat. There were few personal belongings there, what suggested that she had been moving quite a lot during her life.

He heard her mutter to herself with disgruntlement that this place was a mess. Indeed, everything was covered by a layer of dust. Black Siren left him alone and went to her bedroom. She spent some time there and emerged wearing normal clothes—a T-shirt and jeans, and it was Oliver's turn to have a bizarre feeling, as if he had seen a mirror image of Laurel. Although she had dyed her hair blonde recently, she used to have that auburn color as well. Black Siren looked at him as if he was a piece of furniture though. She threw him a blanket without a word, and disappeared in the bathroom for long time. She left the door to her room ajar, and thanks to that Oliver caught a glimpse of framed photo standing on the cupboard next to her bed. It was some distance away, but he had no doubt whose face was on that picture.

He spend the next few hours sitting on the floor with the laptop on his lap, looking through every piece of information he could find about Robert Queen and his activities as the Arrow. It seemed that his father had been more successful than him in stopping the Undertaking. There was nothing that would indicate that the East Glades had been destroyed. The familiar names of people poisoning the city—people from the List—were coming up, and it seemed that the Hood here had never stopped to pursue them. There was also many monikers that rung a bell. The Dark Archer, Komodo, China White...There was no mention about Deadshot or the Deathstroke, and typing Slade Wilson into the search didn't turn up any results. He was surprised to discover that Count Vertigo here was not only a true count of some country from Eastern Europe called Vlatava, but also quite a powerful meta. He had no idea who the hell Shade, Salomon Grundy and Prometheus were, but apparently this Earth's Arrow had beef with them as well. He wished he could hack into the police's database, but wouldn't dare to try it without being able to cover his tracks. It was too great a risk.

It was some kind of relief to discover that Moira Queen was alive and well on this Earth. She was still married to Walter Steele. There was no mention of Thea and that made him a bit puzzled. Then again, it wasn't the main focus of his search. However, he stumbled upon information that two daughters of Walter lived in the Queen mansion with him and their stepmom. He hoped that the surrogate family filled the gap left by her lost son. And her first husband.

He wondered how things were between her and Robert. It must have been so awkward to see her late husband returned from the grave, especially if she had moved on with her life. He wasn't surprised that they hadn't gotten back together. If Robert's mindset was similar to his own after the return, there wouldn't really be a chance for that.

Out of curiosity, he tried looking up the names of his friends. There was a mention of heroic marine John Diggle, and of Felicity Smoak, an innovative programmer who won some prize for young talents and was developing some small company. He found information about Roy Harper, who made himself visible as an activist. He was brought up in Glades and aware of its problems, wanted to make the city's authorities acknowledge them and actually do something. However, they had no connection to the Arrow. He found also that Tommy had become a doctor, and was working in a hospital in Chicago. It was hard to believe, but there was no mistake here—that article was definitely about the heir of the Merlyn family. But not all information about the counterparts of people close to him was good. His blood ran cold when he found Quentin Lance's obituary. He'd died a couple years ago. A former police detective...then a private eye...a sudden and tragic death. He couldn't bring himself to read how exactly it had happened.

Instead he moved on to reading about the vigilante's arrest. A name of Detective William Malone and his partner, Detective McKenna Hall, came up very often. They were in charge of the investigation, pursuing the Arrow persistently and finally, after over three years, the vigilante's luck ran out. Oliver scanned the text. It seemed that over time the noose started to tighten around Robert. The Anti-Vigilante Task Force was never dissolved, and a team lead by the sergeant Carrie Cutter took part in a round-up...

And then he came across surprising information that made him feel uneasy. There was a hacker guy who had been working with the Hood. His name told him nothing, but there was also a woman who actively helped the vigilante, Isabel Rochev...It was heavily implied that Robert and Isabel were not only partners in crime. The hacker guy got arrested, but agreed to cooperate with SCPD and gave up Robert in exchange for a mild sentence. Isabel managed to narrowly escape the capture and her whereabouts were unknown. Some sources said that she was hiding in Russia, others that she was in Poland.

He closed the lid of the laptop. It seemed he had learned enough, and that enough could make his head hurt.

He also did some research about St. Walker's. The street name the hospital was located on was different, but the building looked identical in the photos. He'd been inside the hospital on his Earth and didn't had fond memories of it. The memory of the abandoned room in the dark basement of the facility and the psych bed still gave him the creeps. He wondered about the layout and the procedures—he needed to have a closer look at St. Walker's. So he left Black Siren's house (she didn't even pay attention, busy going about her business) and took the bus towards Chalk Farm. He got off too early, but quickly found his way around, although it was a little tricky. This Starling was similar to his hometown, but at this same time he felt lost in it. Like he was visiting a twin city that was built in similar surroundings but under slightly different influences.

He observed the hospital from various vantage points. He localized the wing the high-risk patients were kept in, and over the next two hours focused on studying everything he could learn about that part of St. Walker's. Entrances, emergency exits, how tight the security was, how many medical staff they had, if he could access the building from the roof...The wall around the hospital's grounds and small park didn't seem to be any obstacle. He needed to have a closer look at the alarm and surveillance system. It wouldn't hurt to know on which floor and in which room Robert was held, but for that he needed to get access to the registry. But he decided that he wouldn't rush into the night unprepared—he needed to get some knowledge about the city first. So he decided to return on foot to Black Siren's house. It wasn't exactly in walking distance, but he had a lot of time at his disposal, and the longer he stayed out of her hair the better. On his way he noticed a familiar logo of Big Belly Burger. He smiled lightly. It seemed that no matter what Earth it was, some things remained unchanged. Under the spur of the moment, he went inside.

"I was wondering if you'd gotten lost in the city," Black Siren greeted him. "You were gone quite a long time," she added.

"Have you been worried?" asked Oliver, somewhat surprised by his own good mood. Today's discoveries made him cautiously optimistic, and "optimistic" was a word he had rarely used. He would never dare to call any mission easy. The ones that seemed to be like that were usually the ones that went south the most unexpectedly. But he knew his objective, he could clearly see his target, and he couldn't help thinking that getting Robert out of the mental hospital would be much easier than from a high-security prison.

"Was too busy," remarked Black Siren.

Oliver could only guess that she was doing what any person would do after a longer absence—meaning cleaning up the flat.

"What's in the bag?" she asked, noticing the takeaway he'd grabbed from Big Belly Burger.

"Peace offering," answered Oliver. "Have you eaten dinner?"

She raised her eyebrows, apparently slightly amused by how he put it.

"No. And since it's on you, I won't complain that you brought fast food."

The better part of the meal passed by in rather awkward silence. They sat at the same table, but it was difficult to say that they enjoyed each other's company, and Oliver started to wonder why he had thought that it would be a good way to make amends between them. Still, he made an attempt to have a conversation of some sort, and once he had finished his burger, he asked her about her allegiance with Zoom. Maybe it was not too diplomatic to approach that topic straight away, but it simply bothered him too much to not touch that subject. If she had been as twisted and vindictive as she had pretended to be, she would destroyed the extrapolator once she had got her hands on the device. Stranding a friend of the Flash on her Earth would be a perfect way to get even with him. He half-expected that she would dismiss his question, but to his surprise she made quite an honest confession:

"I had little choice. Metas who refused him...ended up badly. You've seen Speedsters in action, haven't you?" she asked rhetorically. "And Zoom was the fastest of all of them. And the most cruel. Once he targeted you, it was either side with him or die. If I said no, he would just snap my neck in a blink of an eye. So sorry to say, it wasn't hard to decide what to do."

"I don't blame you," remarked Oliver. "Still...you wanted to bring down a whole office building full of people."

"I was ordered to get the Flash's attention. And it was the best way to do so," she answered enigmatically. "It wouldn't be the worst thing I've done. And before you say anything—I don't need either your contempt, or your pity."

Oliver had had at the tip of his tongue that he wasn't going to offer her that. But he stopped himself and said instead:

"I was wondering...And you don't need to answer if you didn't feel up to. But...How was he? My doppelganger?"

Suddenly Black Siren shot him a very cold glance.

"To me you're his doppelganger, not the other way around," she hissed. She looked down at her plate. Her long hair partially hid the expression of her face, but he noticed it became very grim. He thought that she would just ignore him, but to his surprise she said quietly:

"Ollie...He didn't turn away from me after I became a meta. He stayed by my side and told me that it doesn't matter to him that he's some ordinary, powerless dude. He even seemed to be proud that he has ass-kicking girlfriend." She smiled fondly at that memory.

"He sounds like a nice guy," observed Oliver, not without sympathy.

"He was," she said, not even trying to hide the sadness in her voice. She nibbled on her salad, but apparently lost her appetite and put the fork down. "You know...I was also meant to go on that voyage...But I had to cancel at the last minute, because my mother fell sick and I had to take care of her. Sometimes I wonder if I had gone with him whether it would have ended differently. If I would have been able to protect him. Robert...he was with him when he died, but he didn't want to tell me how it happened exactly."

For a long moment none of them spoke. Finally Black Siren asked and her tone was surprisingly gentle. "What about Laurel? How was she?" Oliver couldn't guess if she asked out of polite curiosity, or if she really wanted to know something about her counterpart from Earth-1.

"She was...a fighter. She always wanted to save the world. She was doing good things long before she became the Black Canary. She was a lawyer and...if she was fighting for a cause she believed in, there was nothing that could possibly stop her."

"She was not meta, was she?"

"No, she was using a sonic device Cisco made for her."

Black Siren restrained herself from making any remark about that. She had just listened attentively, so he went on:

"We had known each other for half for our lives. She was...Well, she was a person that seemed to always be there...We...we used to be a pair, but..."

"Until you broke her heart, betraying her," said Black Siren. "With her sister. Now, that was cruel..." It was a simple statement of fact, not a mockery, and he couldn't even get angry with her, as she'd told the truth.

"I didn't deserve her love," he said grimly.

They finished dinner in silence.

"There is one mystery to be solved," said Oliver, before they parted. "How should I address you? Do you also go by Laurel...?" he asked, a bit awkwardly.

"No," she answered curtly. "My name is Dinah."

Dinah tried vainly to sleep. It was nice to lie in one's own bed again in a familiar and safe place, but although she felt quite tired, her mind was too aroused and full of thoughts to grant her the blissful obliviousness of dreams. She tossed from side to side as the night hours dragged by. She couldn't help thinking about him. That other Oliver that was currently sleeping on the floor in her living room under the blanket she had generously offered him.

There was much more civility between them than she had expected. This situation was so damn weird. She was certain she would have been much happier if she had known nothing about that other Earth. And the other version of the person she loved so dearly. Looking at him was like rubbing salt in old wounds. And what was worse, she realized that she wasn't entirely indifferent to him. It was a physical desire, nothing else. She wondered if he felt the same toward her. Well, she doubted that, especially since she knew enough about how he had treated her counterpart. How he could be such a huge dick to her and betray her with her own sister? She wondered if they'd gotten back together after they had both become costumed heroes. If so, then that Laurel had to be either completely stupid and naive to give him another chance, or simply had a heart of gold. Dinah doubted that she would ever be able to forgive something like that. And certainly she wouldn't be able to forget.

Then again...She wondered how he would react if she went to him right now and woke him up with a kiss? Would he freak out, or would he mistake her for his Laurel, pulling her into his embrace and kissing her back? Would they delude themselves that they were the next best thing to the beloved people they had lost and make a pact without a word spoken? It would be easier under the cover of the night to pretend that she was his Laurel and he was her Oliver. She desired the closeness of his body and wondered how it would be to be with him. If making love with him would bring a ghost of the passionate nights she had spend with her lover. She was almost tempted to check that. Almost. Because she was too proud to threw herself at some guy. Even if it was physically painful. She bit her lip, feeling that she was on the brink of bursting into tears. Ollie's doppelganger opened a way for all of those emotions she had blocked since his death. Her heart was yearning for him. But he was lost to her. Forever.

She had been alone for so long...Ever since Zoom made her work for him. She was focused on staying alive. Surviving. And it didn't leave too much time for pursuing relationships. But now she was free and not entirely sure if she wanted to live the rest of her life alone. But she was also not sure if trying to get together with him wouldn't do more harm than good. The chaotic thought kept echoing in her mind.

You're stupid...So stupid. He's not Ollie. He's not him. He's a fraud. A poor replacement. You've just met that guy and you're thinking how to get into his pants. It's pathetic...You shouldn't even think about that...Screwing him would be disgracing Ollie's memory.

Only as still-early dusk began to descend did she manage to fall into an uneasy doze. Not aware that Oliver also didn't slept a wink that night, troubled by a very similar thoughts of his own...

The next morning a strong smell of brewed coffee was the first thing that welcomed her. Well, maybe it was little closer to afternoon, as neither her nor her guest woke up early.

When she emerged from her bedroom, the sight of him in her kitchen brought such a vivid memory of times when Oliver got up early to turn on the coffee machine and make those amazing pancakes of his that it was as if something sharp pierced her heart. There was no sign of the pancakes though, although that other Oliver took the liberty of foraging in her fridge, apparently with an intention to prepare some sort of a meal. She put on a civil attitude, because who would have anything against a free breakfast?

"A man who cooks," she commented as good-humouredly as she could. "It's a rare thing now, and I almost feel tempted to keep you around."

"It depends if you like your dishes plain. My skill level and the menu I can offer is limited. Do you prefer scrambled eggs or a omelet?"

"I'll go with omelet," answered Dinah and poured herself a cup of coffee. "There is raspberry jam in the cupboard over the sink, in case you haven't discovered that."

"I hope that you're not angry to see a stranger cooking in your kitchen."

"After four months' absence, my own kitchen seems to be strange to me. And if I were angry you would fall out the window," she said and added, noticing that he was looking for something, "Salt is in that Cadbury tin."

The breakfast was slightly less awkward than the dinner, but they didn't talk too much. He told her about his plan of gathering more information about the hospital before putting the next part of his plan into operation, which she summed up with only one word: "Good." Then Oliver left for the whole day only to return in the evening, and that scenario repeated over the next couple of days. He hardly caught a glimpse of his host over that time. They usually saw each other at mornings and evenings. Sometimes they ate together, but it was more out of a coincidence than a habit they had established.

Finally Oliver decided he was ready to go out as the Green Arrow. On that day he came back from the city earlier than usual. When night fell he put on his outfit and strapped a quiver full of arrows to his back. He checked if all the cables and the string in his bow were properly stretched and working correctly.

"It's only recon," he informed Black Siren, who for some reason looked at him a bit skeptically. He pulled down his hood and left the house, silent as a ghost. Alert for his daring venture, he felt as if it was his first night out.

After a long absence, the green-hooded archer was going to appear again in this city.

The branches waved outside the window, casting long shadows through the room. Against a background of street lamp's yellowish light, they looked like outstretched claws of some monster. Shapes kept changing and dancing on the floor and the opposite wall. The regular thick lines of shadows cast by the rods in the barred window seemed to be the only stable part of this abstract composition.

Robert had been awake for some time, the third or fourth time this night. He observed the shadows, lying motionless in his bed. Sometimes he was glad that the bars keep the monsters from entering. On other occasions he wondered how long it was since he had shot a bow, as sometimes he had seen arrowheads in those shapes. Still, it was not one of his bad nights. On bad nights he wasn't able to sleep a wink and the ghosts of his past—both his enemies and the people he had lost—kept haunting him. His shrink was telling him that he was getting better. Because he abandoned the hood and realized that this obsession must end. And because he didn't react to the ghosts. He sighed and closed his eyes. Just because he didn't react to them it didn't mean they were gone.

He tried to sleep, but he had never felt farther from rest. The branches tapping on the glass were unnerving him; it was hard to ignore them. Then suddenly the malicious trees, laughing at him outside, fell silent. A bizarre feeling that he wasn't alone in the room anymore come over him.

Robert opened his eyes and raised himself up slightly. And gasped when he saw a dark silhouette of a hooded man, holding a bow in his right hand, standing in a shadowy corner on the opposite side of his room. Robert swallowed hard. He had never had a vision of the Arrow. He often dreamed about being free and carrying on with his mission, but never actually saw his alter ego in such a...solid form.

For a moment the ghost was just looking at him intently. Robert had no idea how he could be so sure of that; he wasn't able to see his eyes. He couldn't even see his face, as it was entirely hidden under the shadow of the hood. He sensed that his heart started to beat faster, and sweat started to form on his brow. He knew it was a hallucination. It must have been a hallucination. But at the same time it looked so real...That was the problem. One couldn't argue with what one's mind was telling him.

Suddenly the ghost took a few steps toward him. It brought Robert on the edge of a panic attack. For some reason the ghost seemed startled by that reaction.

"Leave... Leave me alone!" cried Robert. He moved back away from the hooded man, terrified. But he had nowhere to escape, so he could only lean against the wall.

Now he realized what was happening. The Arrow had come for him, to reclaim his soul. And to remind him about his legacy. To torment him by showing how utterly hopeless his situation was. Didn't he realize that Robert was a lost cause?

"I know I've failed this city," he muttered. "I've failed Oliver," he added in a grief-stricken voice.

The ominous ghost hesitated and didn't come any closer to him.

"Why do you keep haunting me?" Robert asked agonizingly. He lowered his gaze because it was simply too hard to look at him—a symbol of his failure. He didn't want to be reminded how futile and sentenced to failure his mission was from the very beginning. How he was outed and eventually captured, marked as an insane man and locked up in St. Walker's without any possibility to ever leave these walls.

He sensed that the shadow of his past shifted. When he looked up he was again alone in his room. The hooded man was gone.

Doctor Avery Pressnall didn't know what to make out of her patient's mood. She had been working with Robert Queen for over a year now, and although they had a very rocky start, eventually they had established quite a firm bond. Very restrained at first, Robert treated her like the worst kind of enemy. He didn't react aggressively. He just refused to talk with her. It took her long weeks before she managed to break through the walls of indifference he had build around himself. Then the relationship progressed quite naturally to a place where they could be honest with each other. Avery was patient, empathetic and observant, and that made her a good psychotherapist.

"How are you feeling today, Robert?" she asked. The question was on her clipboard checklist, but unlike some of her colleagues working at St. Walker's she cared about the answer.

"More awful than usual," he said. He didn't even raise his eyes to meet the concerned gaze of his shrink.

"Is there anything you would want to tell me?" she asked gently.

It took some time before he finally decided to tell her about the vision he had the previous night. She listened to the story with amazement.

"Robert, you know it's impossible," she said. "The Arrow couldn't come to you. He exists only in your head."

"I know...But he looked so...real." He shot her a disturbed glance. He seemed as lost as if he again had been stranded on some desolate island.

"You made an important step in your therapy when you abandoned the hood," said Avery, trying to give him some sense of stability. "You need to focus on your recovery."

"My recovery," he echoed. "Yes. I should focus on that, right," he muttered almost to himself. "It's just that I...I don't feel like talking today. I'm sorry, Doctor."

She didn't want to force him to undergo a therapy session, seeing how drained he was. She thought briefly that she should reexamine the list of meds he was taking. Almost all of them came paired with side effects—hallucination was one of the possibilities. It seemed that new pills she'd prescribed him didn't serve him well. She should reduce the dose.

"Of course, Robert. We'll continue whenever you're ready."

"How did you think he would react?" asked Dinah, when Oliver finally told her how his visit at St. Walker's ended in a catastrophe. "You appeared out of sudden. No surprise that he freaked out."

"I start to wonder if it was even a good idea," remarked Oliver grimly. It was really disturbing to see Robert in such a state. He seemed to be a...broken man. And that terrified him. He wondered if he had shared similar fate he would also just...give up.

"I could tell you that it was a very bad idea from the very start." She paused. "Well.. Maybe you should go there as Oliver, not the Arrow. And use the door instead of the window."

"It won't be that easy to get there from the corridor..."

Black Siren only smiled.

"No locks will stop me. Sonic scream, remember? And I can operate it on various frequencies."

"Suddenly you seem very eager to help," said Oliver dryly. He spirit was down after the failure he had the previous night.

"The sooner you break him out, the sooner I get rid of you," she explained matter-of-factly.

"It does hurt, doesn't it?" asked Oliver suddenly. "Seeing someone so similar, and not being the person who you loved."

She opened her mouth as if to snap back some biting remark, but didn't say anything. Based on her reaction, he had hit a bullseye. It wasn't that hard to guess, as he had felt exactly the same way. They shared a short moment of quiet, mutual understanding.

"Tonight," she said curtly.

Oliver thought of nothing but the prospect of the following night. When darkness fell over the city they departed. They arrived at the place in the dead of the night and got over the fence out back easily. The hospital building loomed ahead of them. Nothing seemed to stir. They approached it with caution and silence.

Black Siren used ultrasounds to destroy every obstacle in their way, no matter if they were door's locks or the cameras. All Oliver had to do was just follow her. However, he took care of the staff and the security they came across, using tranquilizer darts. He didn't want Dinah to hurt them.

Everything went smoothly, but he felt a little tense when he stopped before the door to Robert's room. He took in a deep breath and came inside. The memory of his previous visit was still a fresh one. Black Siren stayed in the corridor to keep watch, so it was up to him to convince Robert to come with them.

He woke up almost immediately and trembled upon seeing the Green Arrow again. But this time Oliver didn't hesitate. He stopped in a place well lit by a light of the street lamp falling through the window, pulled down his hood and took off his mask.

"Hi, Dad," he said simply. He felt a bit guilty about that particular lie, but there was no time for explaining right now.

Robert Queen drew in a sharp breath and sat up on his bed.

"Oliver? Is this...is this really you?" He outstretched his hand. Oliver came closer and kneeled by his bed. His "Dad" clutched his forearm rapidly, as if it allowed him to grab a hold of reality. "You're really here. But how is this possible? You died on Lian Yu. You bleed out in my arms." Even in the room's darkness Oliver could notice his quizzical look. "You're wearing the hood...But it's not my hood."

"I'm the Arrow now. I carry on your legacy," said Oliver, trying to make it as convincing as he could. "You saved many lives. Now I've came to save yours." He sighed silently. He would have a lot of explaining to do later on.

Robert let go of his forearm and didn't say anything. He glanced at him a bit suspiciously, and Oliver realized that he must have seen through his game. He had no idea what was happening, but recognized that the man before him, although sharing looks with his son, wasn't him.

"I want to help you," said Oliver quietly. "If you only allow me to do so. Please," he added almost pleadingly.

"All the time I've been stuck here I dreamed about escaping this damned place," muttered Robert. "And now...I'm almost afraid to go."

"You're not alone," said Oliver, feeling as if something was choking him. There was a sense of defeat in "Dad's" voice and an overall sadness. It was hard to not get emotional. He raised to his feet and outstretched his hand to him.

Robert glanced up to him. He hesitated for a moment and then grabbed his hand. When he got up, there was renewed determination in his movements, and that gave Oliver some hope. He had his doubts earlier, but now he didn't regret coming here. He refused to give up on anyone from his family.

Even if that family was from another Earth.

I know I'm leaving it rather open ended, but don't worry. I will certainly write one more scene with a "family" bonding, because it just demands a proper closure.