What's wrong with us when happy hurts

If you're gonna play the game, you gotta learn to play it right

Notes:

I'll never be able to convey just how much you guys support means to me and how much I appreciate it. Knowing people enjoy my story means the world to me and I can't thank you guys enough for your patience and support. Thank you so much!

I hope you'll like this chapter.

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If you're gonna play the game, you gotta learn to play it right the secret to survivin' is knowin' what to throw away and knowin' what to keep

Oliver

He had called Sara once they had reached the Bunker, just to check in and see how things with Quentin were going and to let her know about the SCPD's interruption while they had been going through Chase's house. Better she learnt it from him than the news, which he was sure was going to be a shitshow, given the fact that the Green Arrow had been found in the house of the city's beloved star D.A. Yes, having Sara learn about it through the press would be the stupidest choice of action he could take. Her reaction had been as expected and he couldn't fault her for pointing out it had been a stupid idea to begin with.

She wasn't wrong, but he still had to try. Having the SCPD show at had been the least expected outcome from this plan. And most definitely not how he had anticipated his undertaking would conclude. At least hers appeared to be turning out better than envisioned, and she and Quentin seemed to be having an enjoyable evening. That was good. It had been a while since Sara had last spent some quality time alone with her dad. He was glad they found the opportunity. It was important. He knew how much she was still struggling around him, and he really hoped this was helping with the issue and that she'd soon feel comfortable around her father again. Sara had always been a daddy's girl and knowing how difficult it was for her to be around Quentin was breaking his heart.

She was Dinah's daughter through and through, but she'd always been Quentin's little buddy, thanks to her tomboy nature as a child. The bond the two shared had been very powerful and Sara herself had told him on numerous occasions throughout the years that Quentin had been what had kept her going during her years in the League, what had made her keep on fighting and never give up. His braveness and strengths had been her guide- and lifeline. Never give up and never stop fighting had been advice both Laurel and Sara had been given by their father from a very young age on, as a detective he'd known how dangerous the world was and tried to equip his daughters with anything they would need should they ever find themselves in a dangerous situation.

And Sara had just done that. She had never given up or stopped fighting. She might have complied to some degree in order to stay alive, but she had never lost track of who she was and where she came from. The roots she had been provided with as a child had been a lot deeper and stronger than his, but then again, Sara had always known who she was, not like him who hadn't known who he was besides Moira and Robert Queen's son, heir to the Queen fortune. He hadn't known what type of person, what type of man he was. Hadn't known what he wanted to do with his life. Who he wanted to be, what he wanted his life to look like. He had been lost in that aspect regarding his life from a very young age on, while Sara had always known the type of person she was, what she wanted her life to look like, who she wanted to be. Because Quentin, and especially Dinah, had made sure their daughters got the chance to figure that out. They were never told who they were supposed to be, but instilled with a strong set of morals. They'd been taught right from wrong and good from bad. Sara might have ignored their teachings to some degree in her teens, but she had understood the difference. She had known what was right and what was wrong. It was why she had asked him to lie to her family, telling them she had died on the Gambit, why coming home after everything she's been through, everything she had done, even if reluctantly and under duress, she'd feared their reaction. Feared they would no longer accept her, love her because she had been forced to do unspeakable acts while understanding how wrong it was.