"Arrow": Forbidden Desiresbybarrymanilow©
Author's note: Incest one-shot involving characters from the CW TV show "Arrow," based on DC Comics. All characters involved belong to their respective owners. All characters are over 18 years of age. Continuity wise, I suppose this is set after episode 1.14, "The Odyssey" as it references events occurring in that episode. However, I have no choice but to completely ignore the fact that the vigilante confronted Moira and this story pretends that never happened, as that development would throw way too much of a monkey wrench into everything.
Feedback and comments greatly appreciated.
Oliver Queen woke up in the morning in his own bed at 8 AM. He stared at the ceiling, and sighed. He wished that he was alone.
But he wasn't alone. And as soon as he twitched and moved, Carrie Cutler's cold limbs surrounded him as a reminder of that fact.
"Mmm, Ollie, baby, you rocked my world last night."
He was suddenly filled with a bit of contempt. Only people special to him could call him "Ollie." Carrie Cutler was not one of those people. And he immediately regretted his decision last night.
He knew he had to keep up appearances. He knew that he had to be Oliver Queen, billionaire playboy without a care who would sleep with any pair of curves that had two legs. That irresponsible person couldn't possibly be the notorious vigilante who's been going around Starling City.
But that irresponsible playboy wasn't his true self. Not anymore. Not after the island changed him. Maybe the fiction he created was true of the selfish man who went on that boat trip five years ago, but not the man he was now. Not now. And he had to continue to pretend to be that man to avoid any suspicion. Right now, having dalliances with women was the best excuse he could come up with as to why he didn't return home several nights of the week. He had the "working on the nightclub" excuse, but that was relatively flimsy and he could only play that card so many times. For the most part, his best excuse for not coming home was that he was out on an excursion with a beautiful socialite.
But it wouldn't be believable if, for some reason, every single night ended up with him visiting the woman's home and never brought back any to his own. He realized this. Last night he was recuperating from a particularly difficult take-down a few nights earlier, so he decided to give in to Carrie Cutler's advances to help support his fiction.
And while it was true that he did indeed have sexual relations with Carrie last night, Oliver didn't feel anything. He went through the motions. And afterwards, he felt disgusted.
Carrie was the first woman he had slept with after the island experience since Helena. And Helena....well, he had deceived himself into thinking that she was right for him, that she understood him. He had felt something, if only temporarily. But Helena clearly proved herself later to not be the right one for him, to not be someone understood him as he had previously desired. He surmised that he was projecting. Still, at the time, he could justify the connection, could justify how he felt at the time. He could not justify any sort of connection with Carrie. A pointless dalliance to keep up appearances.
"Hey stud," she turned to him in bed and said, "how about I cook you some breakfast?"
"That sounds fantastic," he lied as he smiled at her.
Carrie grabbed her clothes from the floor and put them on. Then, she walked out the door and closed it behind her. She stopped in the hallway. Someone was there. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were out there."
Oliver knew exactly who was out there. The voice was a bit muffled through the door, but he knew who it belonged to. His mother was on a business trip for two weeks, and Walter was still missing, so there was only one other person sharing the house with him for the time being.
"Have fun last night?" the voice outside the door asked Carrie.
"Oh, listen, I'm so sorry...I didn't realize you were here...look, I don't want to cause any awkwardness....if you want me to leave, then I will..."
"No, it's okay. It's fine, really."
"Well...um...actually I just remembered, I have an appointment I need to go to. I'll be out of your hair," Carrie replied. She then walked back inside Oliver's bedroom, grabbed her purse and her other belongings, and then stood at the doorframe again. She looked back at Oliver briefly as he lay in bed. "Hey, listen, Ollie, sorry, I actually have to go...talk to you soon?"
"Yeah, for sure," Oliver lied, with a smile.
"Okay, great. Thanks again," Carrie smiled, as she closed the door. Oliver heard her walk down the stairs and leave. He sighed, and waited in bed for another five minutes. He slowly crawled out of bed, put on his clothes, and then stepped outside his room.
He was hoping the person who spoke to Carrie would have gone back to her room or downstairs by now. But, no. Thea was still standing in the hallway, arms folded.
He looked down at the ground for a moment, then moved his eyes back upwards towards his little sister.
Thea stared at him for a moment, with a clear look of disapproval. She shrugged her shoulders, then mimicked their recent visitor's words in a high pitched tone. "Okay great, thanks again!" she said in a juvenile mocking voice.
"Speedy..." Oliver said with a sigh as she walked towards her. She backed away.
"I don't like her, Ollie," she said defiantly. "I know who that is. Carrie Cutler. Spoiled socialite...she loves the tabloids, sells out gossip about her friends to them..."
"Speedy, it was nothing. I agree with you in that I don't particularly care for her as a person. I'm not interested in dating her. It was just a drunken mistake. I regret it now," he replied, trying to console her.
"Do you?" she said, her mood starting to warm. "Well...that's good, then. I just thought you should know that I don't particularly care for your choice of friends in this instance."
Oliver was glad that the mood had lightened somewhat. He chuckled to himself for a moment, then looked back at Thea. "Speedy, from what I can recall, you have never approved of any of my choices in 'friends.'"
Thea stared back at her big brother for a moment, then started to laugh. "Well, I guess you have a point. Look...I'm sorry, but I always idolized you growing up. I just never thought any of them were good enough for you. I guess I still can't help but think that way."
"That's okay, Speedy. I understand," he said as he playfully knocked her on the chin.
"I do feel kinda bad about the waffles though. I'd offer to make you some myself in exchange for sending away your would-be cook, but I have to get to the office, like, right now."
Oliver couldn't help but laugh at this statement, given her attire. She had to do some internship work at CNRI because of her arrest, but she obviously was trying to make a statement with her attire.
"Sis, you're wearing a see-through shirt that shows your bra underneath. I'm not sure that's entirely appropriate work attire."
"That's kind of the point. Think of it as a form of 'silent protest,'" she grinned. She walked past his room towards the stairwell, giving big brother a playful bump on the shoulder along the way, before turning back towards him at the top of the stairs. "It's sooo boring there. I don't even have anything to do."
"I kind of gathered that, considering that whenever you have to go there you seem to be mostly preoccupied with e-mailing me funny pictures of cats."
"You love it. I'll find some good ones," she laughed, as she slowly started to walk down the stairwell. Oliver smiled, then walked back towards his bedroom and started to open the door.
Before he could open it, Thea turned back to him and addressed him.
"Ollie? Wait, one thing real quick," she said.
"In the wake of all of that...business...I have a question for you."
Oliver looked at the floor for a minute and chuckled. He had a feeling that he knew what was coming next. "Oh, really? Come on, Speedy. Don't tell me it's that same question again."
His tone was one of mock-annoyance. Despite that, he really hoped with all his heart that it was indeed "that same question" again.
"That question" was thinking about had started when Oliver was 13 years old. That was when he started to go on "dates" with girls. Altogether innocent dates, mostly going to the movies with parental supervision, hanging around the house and playing games, that sort of thing, before the girl's parents drove her home at the end of the day.
The first one was Michelle Grell. She had come over to their house when both Oliver and her were 13, and had spent a lot of the day together on a very tame middle school imitation of a "date." While their respective parents were in the next rooms, Oliver and Michelle had played cards, board games, and laughed together before her parents took her home for the night. It was totally innocent and playful, but it was still Oliver's first "date" with a girl.
4-year-old Speedy did not like this one bit.
After Michelle had gone home, Oliver had found his baby sister crying in her room. He had gone over to console her. She was upset, and she didn't understand the dynamic. She didn't realize that boys and girls went on "dates." She was just upset because she thought that this new intruder was coming in to take her place as Ollie's best buddy.
The young Oliver hugged her and consoled her, and tried to explain to her that it was a different dynamic. She only seemed to partially understand, so he tried to lay it out to her in terms she could comprehend.
"Don't worry, Speedy. She's only here for a little bit. But you? You're my baby sister. I'll always love you forever." After he said that, four-year-old Speedy asked him a question. One that had always stuck between them ever since then.
Even after he turned 18 years old and the "dates" became much less innocent, little Speedy continued to ask him that same question after the girl in question left, even with Laurel. And Oliver had always responded the same way.
And now, after five years shipwrecked on an island, after what was seemingly an entire lifetime had transpired between them, Oliver Queen looked at his little sister and hoped she would ask the same question again. She wasn't a little girl anymore. Thea was a full grown and beautiful 18-year-old woman. Still, he hoped that she would now ask the same question she always had when she was a little girl, to remind him of the period of innocence he had lost with his beloved little sister.
The fully grown Thea Queen looked up from the stairwells into her brother's eyes. And finally, she asked the question of him.
"Ollie?" she said as she looked up at him. "Am I still...your favorite girl?"
After being away for so long and missing her growth and development, Oliver had a hard time reconciling the fact that this fully grown and beautiful adult woman who happened to be named Thea Queen was the same person as his beloved baby Speedy. But hearing this question again brought a warmth to his heart and helped him understand that despite it all, this really was the same little girl he remembered.
In response to her question, he walked up to her and hugged her. The same way he did 14 years ago. And then, he gave the same response he always had.
"Of course, Speedy. Always and forever."
The two adult siblings embraced for several moments.
This brief exchange of dialogue, as well as the warm embrace, were symbols of the collective innocence they had once shared together. An innocence and development that had been broken by their time away from each other, which they still felt within one another and were desperately clinging to.
Finally, they broke the embrace. Thea, with a feint trace of a tear in her eye, called back towards him as she descended the stairs.
"Good to know, Ollie. I'll see you in a few hours when I get home, big brother."
Thea made a "waving goodbye" motion with her hand, which Oliver reciprocated. He smiled, and then retreated back towards his room. He crawled on his bed and put his blanket back on him, leaving his shirt and shorts on. He leaned back on the pillow and began to think to himself.
Oh, my baby Speedy.
More than anything else since he returned since his five-year stint on the island, she confounded him. After returning back, their mother was pretty much the same person he remembered from before. Tommy was definitely the same person. Laurel, despite her newfound hostility and the complications in their relationship, was definitely the same person.
But Thea? She had changed. To a large degree.
It was hard for him to reconcile the fully grown adult woman he saw before him now with the little baby Speedy he had remembered from five years ago. They seemed like completely separate entities entirely.
The Speedy he remembered was a little girl that used to playfully chase him around. He used to give piggy-back rides to her around the house whenever she would ask. They would play each other in "Go Fish," and he would simultaneously lose to her on purpose while she also cheated at the game.
But that little girl, his little Speedy, was not the same person he saw before him today after so many years away on the island. She had grown from a 13 year old into a fully grown 18 year woman. She was completely different. She had grown. She had changed. And Oliver had missed all of it.
He knew that his time away on the island ended up doing good for the city. It turned him into an unstoppable force that hunted the corrupt and evil men that were on his father's list.
But was it worth it? Speedy made him question that fact more than anything. He had missed her first dance recital. Her first play. Her first day of high school. He missed all of the change and development. When he left, she was one thing. And when he came back, she was something else entirely.
He couldn't reconcile the two beings in his head. They seemed like separate entities. His baby Speedy would never go to nightclubs, get drunk, get into drugs, or anything like that.
And she definitely would never wear provocative clothing.
That last note to himself made Oliver shudder a bit. Because it forced him to confront a very uncomfortable reality.
He could see traces of little Speedy in her, sure. But for the most part, this was a new person he didn't recognize. A new, fully grown, beautiful young woman that he hadn't seen before.
And to his personal horror, his reaction when he was looking at her was very much the same as any red-blooded heterosexual male's reaction would be to looking at a beautiful grown woman for the first time.
One of the first things Tommy had asked him when he returned from the island was "Hey, have you noticed how hot your sister has gotten?"
Oh, how he wished he hadn't. To Oliver's horror, that was one of the first things he noticed.
Oliver slapped his head, as if to force the thought out. "That's your little sister," he said to himself silently. "That's your Speedy. She may not look like it, but it's the same person. You can't think that way."
Oliver sighed to himself. When he was rescued from the island and reintegrated into society, he knew he would have to deal with a lot of troubles and issues coming back. Being attracted his own flesh and blood was not one of the issues he had anticipated.
To try to make sense of his physical attraction, he had searched on the internet for some psychological analysis to help justify it, to help make sure he wasn't a crazy pervert. He had looked up something called the "Westermarck effect" -- the idea growing up together in a household turns people's sexual attraction off towards each other. He also discovered something called "genetic sexual attraction --" people related to each other who are suddenly introduced to each other later in life tended to have a very potent sexual attraction. These theories helped him feel better to some extent -- he hadn't been there to see the adorable innocent little girl he once knew grow into the beautiful and sexy young woman she was today, so his attraction to her made some degree of psychological sense. He was there to see her grow from birth until she was a 13 year old, but missed out on her transforming from a 13 year old into a grown woman. So surely, he could justify that part to some degree.
But it wasn't just a physical attraction. That wasn't the fully story. Oliver was no longer a horny playboy lusting after every beautiful woman he saw. He came into contact with beautiful women that would be instantly willing to go to bed with him almost daily, and was mostly adept at shutting them down, and while many of them had model-esque looks, none of them drove him wild with desire.
At yet, for some reason, his own sister did. Thea was of course a beautiful woman now, but the women he was shutting down and rolling his eyes at were on an objective level at least on the same level if not even more physically attractive. So he knew there was something else to it. It wasn't just Thea's unfamiliar new physical beauty that he was drawn to. It was also something else.
He wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the old "the forbidden fruit tastes the sweetest" adage, and some weird kinky side of it was turned on by the taboo nature of it all, and the fact that she was the only beautiful young woman in the world he could never have while most others would jump through brick walls to be with him.
But he suspected it was more than that. It had something to do with the look of adoration that she had in her eyes when she was talking to him. It had something to do with the fact that he knew she was someone who would love him forever unconditionally, and vice versa. It wasn't just a physical attraction. It was an emotional attraction...and not just a familial one.
Still, he couldn't help but feeling a great degree of shame. The psychological effects he researched helped him justify the physical aspect of the attraction to some degree, but he still absolutely hated himself for it. The city had raised the question as to whether the hooded vigilante was a hero. Oliver was steadfast in telling Diggle and others that he was certainly not a hero. He knew that he couldn't be, deep down. To others, most of the meat of that question revolved around the fact that the vigilante had killed people. But honestly, Oliver mentally dismissed that -- the only people he's ever killed were armed bad guys who were in turn trying to kill him. He only killed when absolutely necessary. And he knew that everything he was doing was for the greater good, and he had saved people's lives. The reason he knew he was not a hero had nothing to do with his mission.
No, the reason he knew he could never be a hero was because no hero would ever have incestuous thoughts about his own little sister. He hated himself for it. He was scum. Scum with a job to do that would eventually help save the city, but he was still scum underneath.
Oliver sighed as he ruminated his predicament. But he knew his thought pattern had to change. He couldn't be thinking about Thea right now. He had to focus his attention towards the next person on the list.
"Enough about Thea," he silently reminded himself. "Enough thinking about Thea. The list. Think about the list."
He shook his head, then opened up his laptop to do some more research. He had been doing some searching on the internet as to who his next target would be: he wanted to find someone who was actively hurting people at this very moment, so he could stop them and cause as much good as possible as soon as he could. He found had just the person.
His next target from the list was a former millionaire, who presumably conducted some less than legal activities on the side during his time in power. But that paled in comparison to his side hobby -- namely, serial killing. This man would find innocent people in his spare time (usually women) and kill them to satisfy his bloodlust. He used his connections and influence to make sure the killings weren't linked to him, so he was untouchable by the police. In the time Oliver had been gone, the man had lost all of his money, which would normally mean he would be less dangerous. Instead, it was the opposite. After losing his money, this man turned to serial killing full time, paying the bills by soliciting the services of the mob by becoming a lethal enforcer. The man had killed three people in the last two months alone, and needed to be stopped immediately, but was still far too elusive for the police to find him. But not too elusive for the vigilante to find, Oliver hoped.