~ Five Years Later ~

I slid down a slope, stopping behind a boulder as I peered over it to see the boat in the distance.

I leapt over the rock with ease, my grip on my bow tightening as I raced down the shore towards the stacked logs and branches we had constructed to create a bonfire for signaling a boat for the day one finally showed in the distance...

And today was that day.

I looked up as Oliver appeared and lifted his bow with a flaming arrow nocked to the string, to shoot the arrow for the bonfire.

Through the tree line, I watched as the arrow hit its target, and the logs ignited with a bang against the gunpowder, lighting up the wood pile in a mighty inferno, releasing torrents of black smoke.

I skidded to a stop in the sand, regaining my balance and adjusted the twin swords sheathed across my back, bending to smear dirt across my face, trying to make myself look as disheveled as possible, knowing Oliver was doing the same. I watched as the boat began to turn towards the fire and I felt my heart begin to pound.

I ran my thumb over the cracked face of my father's watch and wondered how long it would take to get to him in person...

I squinted off towards the boat, and felt myself beginning to cry, tears cutting through the dirt I had just smeared on my cheeks.

It was actually happening this time... this wasn't a dream. We were being rescued. No tricks, no false promises, no threats, no more fear. No more... hell.

I turned to see Oliver making his way down the slope and I couldn't help it, a laugh escaping my lips.

"Oliver! They're coming!" I screamed. "They're actually coming!"

"I know!" His voice carried over the beach and he made it down to the shore. He then began to race towards me, a smile lighting up his face, arms stretching out.

He opened his arms and caught me and lifted me up and I wrapped my arms around his neck tightly, tears streaming down my face as he spun me around.

He set me down on the sand and lifted his hands to my face and kissed my forehead and I smiled, wrapping my fists into his green hood.

"We did it... we're going home..." I whispered.

"We're going home, Mi," Oliver replied and wrapped his arms around me again.

******

On the boat, the fishermen wrapped us in blankets and gave us plastic water bottles- real, genuine, green-wrapped water bottles- and their cellphone to call home.

I sat next to Oliver, holding his hand as he called his mother. She answered, and his hand squeezed mine tighter at the sound of her voice. I lifted his hand to press a kiss to his knuckles, smiling a little as I rested my head on his shoulder.

"Mom, mom it's me. It's Oliver," he said, a tear slipping down his cheek. "Please don't hang up."

I listened to him talk to his mom, feeling anxious all of a sudden to call my father. I found myself staring at the trunks with our few belongings on the floor of the boat in front of us, and startled when he handed me the cellphone. I accepted it, and with trembling fingers, dialed my father's cell phone number I had memorized from what felt like a lifetime ago.

I was surprised I even still remembered it.

I waited, my heart pounding as I pulled the blanket around my shoulders even tighter. Oliver's arm wrapped around me tighter, his other hand reaching to take mine again.

"Hello?" My father's voice asked on the other side of the phone. He sounded tired.

I swallowed hard. "Dad? Dad, it's me. It's Maria."

There was a sound like a thud on the other side of the phone, then he said softly, "No. It's not. My girl died on that boat. Stop this prank calling me-"

"Dad, please it's not a prank!" I interrupted, desperate to hear his voice as tears ran down my cheeks. It broke my heart that he would have been pranked like this... Oliver's arm tightened around my shoulders as he pulled me into his side, kissing the top of my head. "Dad, Oliver and I survived. We ended up stranded on an island- somewhere in the South China Sea. We got rescued by some fishermen. They're gonna take us to the mainland."

"Maria? Oh god..." he whispered under his breath, then choked on a sob. "Is that really you? Can this be true? My baby girl is alive."

I began to nod and said through my tears, "Yes, yes it really is me, dad. It's me."

"I can't wait to see you again. You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice," he said and sniffed. "Get here as fast as you can."

"I'm on my way."

******

I stood at the window of my hospital room, wearing a fresh set of clothes brought for me by my father, and they were just too small for me now after the years of muscle I had built up. The doctors had taken the clothes from him and brought them to the room I recuperated in, explaining visitors would be allowed soon.

It had been a week in the hospital back in Starling City, and I was itching to get out, every nerve in my body hardwired and focused on every tick of the clock, beep of a machine, and the stale antiseptic smell that all hospitals had. The reporters had been gathering at the doors of the hospital every day, waiting for Oliver and I to emerge. I didn't sleep much, and what little I did was because of the various sedatives and medications they had pumped into my IV.

I had my first taste of real food in weeks, and it nearly made me puke. It was nothing more than some orange jello and chicken broth, but it was still too rich compared to what I had scrounged up on the Island.

During the week of recovery, they kept Oliver and I apart so we could heal and they could assess our scars and various, badly healed injuries. I tried my best to ignore the horror on the doctor's faces as they examined me.

I hadn't been away from Oliver for this long in a while, and it made me feel anxious and jittery. I wondered if he was alright... I wondered if the doctors looked at him and his scars and tattoos the way they looked at me and mine.

I was standing at the window, my black hair clean for the first time in a long time, tied back from my face in a braid.

There was a knock at the door and I turned to see who it was and froze when I saw a nurse opening the door wide and my father stepped into the room.

He still looked the same, but so much more tired. He had dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was graying more than before I left. His face was scruffy, and it was unlike him to not remain clean-shaven. I stared at him, waiting for how he'd respond to me now, as his eyes took in my appearance.

His gray eyes that matched mine filled with tears as he smiled sadly. "My girl... there you are."

He held his arms out to me and despite everything, I ran into them. His hold on me was tight, and I clung to him just as tightly as I rested my head on his shoulder.

Flashes went through my mind of the past few years, and I wondered briefly if he knew of his brother's true occupation... I shook the thought from my mind, knowing it would be best if he didn't know I was trained under the League of Assassins.

I lifted my head and his hands lifted to my face as he took in the two long scars- one across my left cheek, and the other a straight line down my forehead, over my right eye, and curving down to my jaw.

I flinched away from him as his fingers grazed over one of the raised scars, taking a step back and wrapping my arms around myself instinctively. I looked away from him.

"Maria, the doctors said you had scars... but I never could have imagined..." He swallowed hard, folding and unfolding his hands. "What... what happened to you? Who did this to you?"

I smiled weakly, putting on the act and the rehearsed dialogue I had already prepared. "It's ok, dad. I look pretty badass now, don't I?" I joked half-heartedly, but he didn't seem to find it funny. The old me would have joked her way out of it, endured the scolding and gaslighting, and sulked away.

The old me was gone.

I rubbed at my arms, then said, "Look, dad... I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about the Island or anything that happened on it, alright? So just... please don't ask me."

He lifted a hand to his dark curls and said, "Maria, that is an unfair ask, you understand that? That it's selfish. You can't expect me to not have questions! It was five years that you were gone- that you were dead- and now you're here and I can't know what happened? You have no idea what it was like for-"

"It was five years of my life!" I interrupted angrily, clenching my fists and he froze. "I missed giving my senior thesis. I missed graduation. I missed the opportunity to get into my field of marine biology. I missed dating and parties and the opportunity to truly experiencing my twenties. The boat went down when I was twenty-two, dad. I missed it all. And all you can say to me that my desire not to relive that hell is unfair to you?"

He looked startled for a moment, staring at me with wide eyes filled with hurt. I never lashed out before. I would have taken his guilt tripping and bent to what he wanted five years ago. Five years ago, I would have mumbled an apology and accepted the long-winded verbal smack downs from him, slinking back away from him. I would have accepted the shame he threw at me, and I would have accepted his victim mentality.

But that wasn't who I'd ever be again.

"Maria... I'm sorry. I..." He looked away from me and clenched and unclenched his fists. "Maria, we buried three empty caskets, the Queens and Lances and I, you know. Three families have suffered. All we want to know is the truth, so that we can help you. Be there for you."

"The truth will hurt you so much more than not knowing," I replied blankly, staring past him at the wall. No emotion. No feeling. No weakness. "You won't be able to handle it if I told you the real and honest truth, dad."

He took a step back, and I met his eyes to see a look of deep hurt and... fear? The realization hurt more than anything he had said so far and I clenched my fists. "Dad, I-"

"Maria... is this really you? My daughter was never this... cold," he said as he stared at me with a shake of his head. "My daughter didn't used to keep things from me. She never pulled away from me or spoke back. She never would have spoken to me in this way, either."

My eyes met his, despite the pain blossoming in my chest at his words, and I replied stiffly, "Your Maria died five years ago, remember? You buried her in that empty casket."

"Maria... I..." he cleared his throat. "I guess we'll talk later. I can't talk to you like this, clearly. Perhaps we just need some space. To clear our heads. We'll discuss this again some other time."

He hesitated for only a moment longer before turning and leaving the room, closing the door behind him. I stiffened as it closed harshly.

It's how it always was. My whole life since my mother left us. He grew cold, using guilt-tripping to keep me from leaving him. But I already had, and the realization for him was too much.

Too much for the both of us, it seemed.

I felt my hands beginning to shake as I turned from the door, wrapping my arms around myself. I hated myself, but I still was different, and I didn't believe I deserved to be questioned and accused for being different.

There was another knock at the door and I stiffened all over. "Go away!" I said to the person opening the door. "L-Leave me alone."

"Mia...?" A familiar voice asked and I slowly turned around to see a small cluster of people standing in the doorway. I wrapped my arms around myself tighter.

Tommy Merlyn stood in the doorway, and behind him, Oliver and Moira Queen.

I felt my lip beginning to quiver, but clenched my jaw and straightened my shoulders as I met Oliver's eyes and said resolutely, "So can we leave this hospital now, or what, Olly?"

"We can leave," Oliver said with a nod, stepping around his friend.

I nodded, rubbing at my arms and sniffled, lifting a hand to my face and wiped at a tear, my fingers running over the raised bump of my scar.

I looked up to see Oliver in front of me, closer now, his blue eyes meeting mine. He held a hand out to me, and I took it. Our grips on one another were tight, and I knew if there was no one behind us, he'd be crushing me in an embrace right now.

"C'mon, Mia, let's go," he said softly and I held his hand tightly as he gently led me out of the room.

I pulled the sweatshirt around me tighter and his arm moved up around my shoulders, pulling me protectively into his side as I pulled up my hood to cover my face. The cameras were out there, and with them, nosy reporters trying to get the inside scoop on the billionaire and his friend.

I lifted my other arm around his waist, my hand gripping his jacket, and let him lead me out of the hospital, push past the paparazzi, and guide me into a car.

I sat still in the limo, and Oliver got in next to me.

I reached over and took his hand again and he held it in both of his as Tommy sat next to his friend.

Moira sat across from us and I did my best to focus on my dirty converse and not the flashing lights of the cameras outside.

And most certainly not the fact that my father left me at the hospital.

******

We arrived at the Queen residence a little while later. Oliver did most of the talking to his mother and Tommy, and I refused to speak.

Tommy was talking about new movies and tv shows we had missed, and filling in Oliver on all the girl drama we had had the fortune to miss.

Oliver listened intently to his friend, nodding along, and holding my hand in both of his as his thumb stroked against my knuckles. He had taken to doing this as a way to soothe his anxieties, contact with me being grounding as we both took comfort in the other being there.

I looked up to see that Moira was looking at me, and her eyes were on Oliver's hands holding onto mine. There was a small, sad smile on her face as she looked at me, and it made me uncomfortable, so I looked out the window.

The doors opened to the limo on either side and I slid out of the car, looking around at the familiar landscaping and a small smile touched my lips.

"Mia?" Moira asked and I turned to look at her. "Mia, you can stay here. With us. If that is something you'd like to do. I just want you to know you are welcome here, and that you are our family. You'll always have that room upstairs. We-"

I stepped forward and hugged her tightly, my arms coming up around her neck and she moved hers around me after a moment of surprise.

I carefully pulled away and wiped at my eyes and said, "Thank you, Mrs. Queen."

"You're most welcome, Mia. Oliver, let's get you all inside," she said and turned towards the door.

I followed him over to the trunk where a chauffeur was moving to take our trunks out of the back and Oliver moved a hand over to rest on them and met the man's eyes.

"It's alright. I can take these," he said calmly. The man merely nodded and stepped back from them, eyes widening.

Oliver looked at me and I nodded as he lifted his and mine out of the trunk and passed mine to me.

The others watched me take the massive trunk with ease- the clumsy girl who before the island could barely carry a large box without trouble or keep a suitcase steady on its wheels- and take it up the stairs and into the mansion.

I stepped across the threshold behind Oliver and set the case down on the floor and looked up to see another familiar face- but so much more grown.

"Olly? Mia?" Thea Queen asked as she descended the stairs.

Oliver set his trunk down next to mine and smiled up the stairs. "Hey, Speedy."

She made it down the last step and threw her arms around her brother's neck, hugging him tightly. She then turned to me and hugged me just as tightly.

She pulled away first, a big smile lighting up her face, and her eyes shining with tears.

"Oliver, Mia, how about you two get settled. Would you like to take showers? We will have dinner at six o'clock," Moira said as she walked over to stand with a tall man I didn't recognize.

"Walter," Oliver said and held a hand out to shake the man's hand. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"Oliver, Walter and I are married," Moira said gently.

Oliver's jaw set, but only for a moment, then he smiled leisurely and nodded. He then looked towards me and said, "C'mon, Mia. Let's get settled back in."

He bent and picked up our trunks and turned and made his way past his family and up the stairs. I smiled apologetically to them, then followed him.

We walked down the hallway in silence until he stopped at the door to his room. He set his trunk outside his door, then turned to the left and opened the door.

He stepped inside with my trunk and set it down on a stool at the foot of a king-sized bed. There was a large window with a cushioned seat, and across from the bed a vanity desk with large, full bookcases on either side.

There were end tables on either side of the bed, and a closet bigger than I could think of. But what intrigued me was the thin door between the window and one of the bookcases.

"That," Oliver said, moving behind me to wrap his arms around my stomach, "is a door that connects our rooms."

I turned my head to look at him, resting my hands over his. "Is that so?"

He nodded, and almost looked a bit shy. I twisted in his arms to face him, lifting my hands up to his cheeks. He pressed his face into my hands, closing his eyes as I ran my thumbs over his cheekbones.

"We're home now, so you know what time it is. What we have to do now," I said gently and he took in a deep breath. "It can start next week?"

He rested his forehead against mine, arms tightening around my waist. "Not now- we need some things to happen first. I'm Oliver Queen- I need to be a semblance of what they remembered."

"And if you aren't? They'll be disappointed. Like... like my dad was with me."

"Hey," he said and tilted my chin up. "There is nothing wrong with you. You got that? Absolutely nothing."

He then pulled me into his arms and I moved my arms around him in return. His fingers slowly combed through my hair, and I wondered what our life would be like now... and what it would mean for our friends.

******

Hello! Welcome to the rewrite of Twinge. I sincerely hope you are enjoying it, and are already starting to note the differences. I'm so excited for you to read on!

I plan to update as I finish writing the chapters, and I hope you all enjoy the story, even with its chaotic update schedule.

The other version will be unpublished so you all won't be able to see it, but I'll be able to refer to it. Thank you all so much for accompanying me on this journey, and I hope you all love this story as much as I do.

Thank you,
Cora Knight