Let It Go

Summary: Tommy was going to get himself killed if he didn't back down.
Warning(s): Belting. Also mentions of torture, violence, threats of death.

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He'd had several days worth of dead ends.

Tommy returned to his motel, feeling dejected. After seeing the email activation from Oliver's account, he'd jumped onto the first flight to Hong Kong...believing fully that his best friend, that Oliver Queen, was still alive. He didn't know how, or why, but the email account was the proof he clung to.

The trouble was, now that he was in Hong Kong, he was hitting dead end after dead end. It was like Oliver didn't want to be found. Or he really was dead, which...Tommy didn't want to think about that. At all.

Grabbing his pack, Tommy took a swig of alcohol to fortify him. He had a couple of leads left to follow: one an address, that was in a rough area. He'd left it until last on his list, because it was more dangerous. But if it was where he could find Oliver, Tommy would walk through fire for his best friend. He just hoped he would find Oliver on the other side of it.

Oliver hated that he had to hide from his best friend... his brother... but it had to be done. Tommy couldn't know he was alive, or Amanda Waller would kill him. (Or worse. She was fully capable of worse than killing someone.) He'd done everything he could to discourage Tommy, but his friend was tenacious. Oliver found himself following in frustration, trying to anticipate the next move so he could counteract.

Tommy couldn't exactly say that he was brave. That wasn't really an attribute he gave himself. But he was stubborn. And he knew that his money could open a lot of doors for him...in this case, literally, as the area he found himself in contained a warehouse that looked like it was the hangout for one of the dangerous gangs, if the enforcers outside were any indication. But all he had to do was flash his money, pay the bribe, let them know he was there for information...and he was able to enter.

Oliver watched as Tommy carelessly showed his wealth to the guards. While it was true that money talked, sometimes it told a different story than you meant it to. Sometimes showing you could buy people was more dangerous than it was worth. Sometimes money meant nothing. The island taught him that and what the island hadn't taught, Waller was quickly drilling into his head. Tommy had got into Waller's crosshairs and if Oliver didn't convince him to give up the hunt, she'd kill him.

Tommy had managed to get into the building by showing his money and paying the bribes. He faltered, a little, once he was inside the building and saw the weapons and the large goons with mean looks on their faces...but he forced himself to put on a show of bravado as he took out his picture of Oliver and showed it to the head honcho. "I'm looking for this man."

The head man didn't even look at the picture. Tommy wasn't someone he felt a need to cater to, bribes to enter the building or not. He wasn't going to get the reputation as someone who just gave away information. Tommy was going to have to offer a lot more, either in money to 'jog his memory', or by looking to hire him to locate and bring Oliver to him. The fact Tommy hadn't immediately done either of those options meant the kid was in over his head and had no idea what he was doing. It was frankly insulting that the rich brat just assumed that buying his way into the building entitled him to information. "Haven't seen him. Don't come here again," he said, in a steel voice that promised a world of pain if he was ignored.

Oliver had snuck in through a window at the top of the warehouse and had maneuvered to watch and listen. He couldn't hear what was said, but he could read lips and body language. He hoped Tommy's common sense won out and his friend left

Tommy faltered, a little...not because he was scared, although he was...but more of having to give up and go home without finding Oliver. His friend was alive. The email proved it. And if Tommy hadn't found him yet, that meant he was in trouble. "Please." It was dangerous...recklessly so...but he took out all of the remaining cash he had on him to offer. "I can get more."

The boss nodded at one of the henchmen, who took the money, counted it in front of the leader, then set it to the side. "That gets you a bit of advice and the ability to leave here breathing and in one piece," the boss said, in the same steely voice. "The advice? Give up your search. If this man is mixed up in circles such as mine to the point you can't find him? He either does not want to be found, or he is beyond finding. Don't throw your own life away."

"He's my best friend. My brother," Tommy said. "I can't leave without at least finding out what's happened to him." Even if Oliver was dead...although if he was, that knowledge would hurt so much more after the hope that had been ignited.

The boss shrugged. "Suit yourself. Someone doesn't stay hidden like that without the help or interference of very powerful people. You've been warned. The next person you ask will most likely kill you." He nodded to one of his henchmen, who took Tommy by the arm to lead him out.

Oliver tensed up, waiting to see what Tommy did.

"At least...tell me if you've seen him. If you know he's still alive." Tommy didn't pull away, but he didn't want to leave without getting something about his best friend.

"As I said..." The boss took a cursory glance at the photo, but barely paused. "I have not. I suggest you go now." It clearly wasn't a suggestion.

Tommy hesitated, briefly, but he'd never really known when to stop pushing...or tended to ignore it. "I will, but do you know who might know?" he asked, a note of desperation creeping into his voice.

"No!" the boss said curtly, obviously frustrated bordering on furious that his more 'gentle' approach had apparently encouraged disrespect, rather than the appropriate obedience. He motioned slightly with his hand and suddenly, Tommy was being dragged backwards to the exit.

Oliver quickly readied an arrow and followed silently, keeping his eyes on Tommy. If it looked like the goon was about to kill him, Oliver would attack... But he was trying to avoid that, because it would only encourage Waller to hurt those Oliver cared about more. She might even order Oliver to kill Tommy.

Tommy wanted to argue. He really did. He maybe would have done, or at least tried to, if he wasn't being dragged by one of the goons. And he didn't actually have a death wish, even though his behaviour was dangerous bordering on reckless.

If this avenue wasn't going to give him the answers he needed, he'd just have to find another one.

The goon wasn't gentle as he threw Tommy out the door, not even stopping to see if the other man caught his feet or fell before slamming the door shut between them.

Oliver watched Tommy in concern, hoping he went back to his hotel and arranged for his trip home, but afraid he'd keep looking.

Tommy carefully picked himself up off the ground, wincing at the throbbing in his ankle and the bruises he could already feel forming. "That's gonna suck tomorrow," he muttered to himself. But he didn't leave. Instead, he took out a piece of paper and drew a line through the address he'd just visited.

He had another place to try...and began heading in that direction. This one was the address of an exclusive nightclub, so he hoped that scene would be easier to get information from. First, though, he headed to the ATM...so that he could withdraw the money he needed.

Oliver cursed under his breath as he realized Tommy wasn't quitting. And he was running out of the time Waller had allowed for convincing Tommy to leave. If Tommy wasn't on his plane home by tomorrow night, Waller was calling in an assassination. Frustrated, Oliver made a few of his own calls. He knew people not on Waller's pay, who would willingly rough up and scare someone, but not kill them, for a favor owed. Or to repay a debt.

Either way, he needed their help getting Tommy off the street and to a secluded area where Oliver could talk some sense into him...without giving away his identity in the process. Tommy had to believe he was dead. It was the only way Tommy would remain alive.

Tommy quickly retrieved the funds from the ATM and put the cash away safely. He might not hesitate to flash his cash to those he thought could help him, but he wasn't entirely stupid. He would keep the cash hidden while he was on the streets.

Taking a deep breath, mentally preparing himself, Tommy began heading towards the next place on his list.

Oliver had realized as Tommy was standing at the ATM that his friend, his brother, wasn't going to give up, no matter what danger he was in because of it. He'd already arranged for some of his more trustworthy contacts to grab Tommy off the street. He deleted his plan just enough so that he would (hopefully) put fear into Tommy; if not for himself, then for those back home. And if he convinced Tommy that he was dead too? All the better. It would keep Waller from going after the other man, if Tommy thought he was dead.

Tommy had just turned from the ATM to begin walking to his next destination when Oliver's hired goons pulled up next to him in a black van and jumped out, grabbing him and throwing him onto the floor in the back and taking off again. It took all of three seconds.

Taking a deep breath, Oliver made his way to the safe house he'd arranged for them to take Tommy.

***

Tommy couldn't help the undignifed yelp that escaped him when he was thrown bodily onto the floor of the van. The bumpy ride did absolutely nothing for the bruises and aching ankle...and the hood over his head caused a spike of fear to go through him. Were they going to kill him? It was a bad sign to be taken to a second place. He at least knew that much.

Oliver's goons had tied Tommy to a post, arms raised uncomfortably over his head. They'd raised the bag up enough so that he could easily talk and breathe, but his eyes were still covered. And then they'd left the room to stand guard, leaving Tommy alone. At least until Oliver walked into the room.

Oliver had moved very softly, to the point that Tommy only heard every sixth or seventh step... and those steps were only heard because Oliver wanted Tommy to know he wasn't alone, even if it was very difficult to tell where in the room Oliver was. Oliver also wore a voice modulator. Convincing Tommy he was dead wouldn't work if he sounded like himself.

This was not going to be easy. He needed to pull on Tommy's feelings for him without encouraging further searching.

Tommy's breathing hitched as he heard the footsteps...indicating that he wasn't alone. He couldn't tell where they were coming from, turning his head in every direction to try and tell if the footsteps were more likely to come from one direction or another. "Who's there?" A note of hope, although he knew it was unlikely, slipped into his voice as he asked, "Oliver?"

Oliver waited until he was directly behind Tommy to growl into his ear, voice distorted from the modulator, "I hope this Oliver realized what a loyal lapdog he had in you...ignoring every warning, common sense and self-preservation trying to prove the unprovable...." He stepped back and shifted to talk from the other direction. "I did some research. Oliver? I assume you mean Oliver Queen... He died... His boat was capsized in the ocean and they never found bodies. Why are you here, making waves for a dead man?"

Tommy flinched...not so much at feeling someone behind him and actually growling in his ear, although that was disconcerting and uncomfortable enough. No, the flinch was due to what the unknown person was saying. That Oliver was dead. "He's alive. Or...someone who knows what really happened to him is." His voice faltered, a little, but he clung to that knowledge. The email was the only clue he had...but he was clinging to it like a lifeline.

"And what brilliant evidence do you have of that? When every bit of legal evidence points to the exact opposite?" Oliver kept his voice at a soft whisper, almost conversational, although the tone would promote the idea that he thought Tommy was chasing ghosts, and a fool. He snorted. "Did it not occur to you that someone was playing you? Giving you that small scrap of 'evidence' so that you would do exactly as you've done? Come into a place where you know nothing, have no friends, and are stirring up hornets' nests you have no hope of surviving? Normally... I wouldn't care. I'd let you continue to throw your money around heedlessly. I'd let you continue to anger the various factions in this city, even if it caused your own death. But your actions have caused me difficulty and I don't appreciate it...." His voice was harsh again, if soft.

"Why...would it?" Tommy sounded honestly confused. "If Oliver's dead, like you claim, why would me looking for him cause you trouble? If you think all I'm doing is chasing ghosts...why would it make any difference to you?" Of course it was possible that his unseen assailant was right. That someone else had sent that email, had logged into Oliver's account. But why would they bother to do that?

"Tell me, Tommy Merlyn... how many business contacts does your father have here? How many rivals? And how many of those contacts or rivals also had dealings with Robert Queen? How many of these contacts or rivals would benefit from investigations into Queen Enterprises... or your own father's business? And do you think these investigations would only turn up information on Oliver? The fact he is missing and presumed dead? How many other secrets do you think stand the risk of being discovered? You wouldn't know, would you? But my boss... they know. And they're willing to kill to make certain their secrets remain buried. Even if the chance of such an investigation leading to them is miniscule..." Oliver leaned in close again. "...Give up this foolish notion that there is more to Oliver's death than you already know. Give it up and go home before I have to obey my boss...." Oliver hoped that common sense would break through to Tommy, after having been told repeatedly that someone wanted him dead for looking; that Tommy would agree to leave and stop looking for Oliver. If he didn't... well, Oliver had one more idea that he was loathe to use.  Torture wasn't palatable, but if the words alone didn't convince Tommy, maybe pain along with the words would? And maybe he didn't even need to torture. On the island, Oliver had learned to survive thanks to the tough love and tough training of those who'd taken him in. Yao Fei had broken down his stubbornness through the use of corporal punishment. (Slade had kept it up for much the same reason. Oliver always had been stubborn). If Tommy didn't listen to reason, maybe that would encourage him to?

It wasn't a surprise to hear that someone wanted him dead. After all, that had been pretty obvious from the moment he'd been grabbed at the ATM. "You don't understand," Tommy whispered. "If it was the other way round...if it was me who'd gone missing...he wouldn't give up. I can't give up on him."

Oliver stepped back. "You aren't giving up on him. You're accepting the truth..." He slowly removed his belt, making certain Tommy could hear.  "The truth that there was a horrible accident. The boat capsized. He, his father, Sara Lance... the crew of the boat... They all drowned. Only some of the bodies were recovered. But all evidence points to everyone drowning..." Doubling the belt, keeping the buckle safely in the palm of his hand, he lifted his arm and let the belt swing down, striking the crest of Tommy's buttocks with a harsh crack. "You say your friend would never give up on you... Do you honestly believe he'd want you wasting your life looking for him when you have no evidence beyond a sketchy email, which could have been sent by anyone wanting to cause problems? Do you honestly think he'd want you putting yourself in harm's way?" He let the belt fall a second time, then a third, each stripe one below the last. He didn't use his full strength, but he made certain each strike was fully felt and painful.

Tommy had been expecting some form of pain...had braced himself for it...but he hadn't expected this kind of pain. He couldn't help the twin yelps that escaped his lips; nor could he stop the tears that sprang to his eyes. And the tears were as much to do with what the man was saying as they were to do with the pain of the belt striking him. How could he give up on Oliver? How could he accept that his best friend, his brother in all but blood, was dead?

Oliver continued to belt Tommy, covering every inch of the other man's buttocks down to mid-thigh. While he belted, he continued to talk. "Seems to me, if he cared as much about you as you say, he would be the first one to tell you not to chase ghosts. To honor him by living, not by angering people, getting onto their kill lists, hurting those who still live by throwing your life away in an attempt to prove the unprovable."

It didn't take long for the tears to start flowing freely, Tommy's breath hitching in a sob. He might have tried to prepare himself for pain, but he'd never experienced it before; at least not on this level. "Why would you even care about that?" He fought the words out through a throat closing with tears.

Oliver paused in the belting long enough to answer, leaning forward so that he could be heard even though his voice was barely above a whisper. "Because I don't want to kill you. I don't like my boss. The only reason I do what they say is because they have my life in their hands. They don't have your life in their hands, though, and if you stop stirring up the hornets' nest, you could live your life the way you should. The way I think this Oliver would want you to live your life, if he were able to tell you. Go home, Tommy Merlyn. Keep Oliver alive by living your life well and keeping his memory alive with others."

Tommy wasn't sure he really believed the man's words. His whole body was aching...and his backside felt like one giant bruise now. He was breahing harshly, trying not to break down sobbing...but it was hard. That tiny splinter of hope he'd been keeping alive was dying; fading out like a snuffed candle. He was feeling Oliver's loss all over again and it was somehow even worse than the first time.

"I want to hear you say it..." Oliver forced himself to continue, beginning to belt Tommy again; though with considerably less force and at a slower pace, since he wanted Tommy to be able to talk. "Admit the email isn't proof of anything and say goodbye to your friend."  It hurt so bad to break Tommy's belief. But if he didn't, Waller would kill Tommy and do it in a way there would be no question he was dead. Oliver couldn't bear that thought.

The tears flowed faster and harder down Tommy's cheeks, causing the hood that covered his eyes to grow wet and sticky. The belting hurt, a lot...but it did nothing for the pain in his heart. He'd come to Hong Kong clinging to a belief...to a fairytale. "It didn't prove anything. Oliver is...dead." Despite the hitch in his breathing, his voice was flat. Hollow. He was finally broken.

Oliver's own eyes were streaming by this point. He could tell Tommy had given up. He'd destroyed his brother's hope. But... Tommy would live. And hopefully find peace, happiness and fulfillment. Oliver only hoped he never found the truth out about this day, because at least he still had fond memories of Oliver. If he ever learned the truth, not only would Oliver have broken him, he would have destroyed what good there was between them. Even if Oliver didn't have a choice. Not if he wanted Tommy to live. Stepping back, he weaved his belt through his pants again. He then moved forward, reaching up from behind Tommy and untying his hands. "Leave the hood on until you hear the door close. It's unlocked. Your money and phone are in your jacket by the door. Use it to get a cab back to your plane. Go home. Stop searching. Otherwise, next time they'll send someone who won't care about killing you," he said gruffly. Solemnly. As soon as Tommy was freed, he quickly backed into the shadows and made his way to the exit. He sent all his help home, then shifted up onto the roof again to watch Tommy, making sure that he not only called a cab to return to his plane, but that Waller hadn't sent anyone else after him. Protecting him.

It took longer than he would have liked to be able to regain his composure. The pain in his heart and his head hurt far worse than the pain in his backside...although that was painful enough. Removing the hood and wiping the tears from his eyes, Tommy went to retrieve his belongings.

It took him a few tries, because the tears blurred his vision and made it hard to see, but he was able to bring up the app for the cab company. He didn't need to figure out where he was. His location was enabled on his phone, so all he needed to do was wait for it to turn up. And try not to feel the jagged pain in his heart every time he breathed.

Oliver had observed from a distance as the cab picked Tommy up. He'd then followed behind on his motorcycle, making certain Tommy went to the airfield and got onto the plane. He didn't leave until the plane was safely in the air. Feeling dejected and alone, he went back to his own tiny, rented room and waited for Waller to call. It felt like he'd ripped his own heart out... but at least Tommy would live.

The End