Oliver thought he got off easy when it came to Kara's family.

CONTINUITY NOTE: Because the events of Arrow 5x09 are so abrupt, so impactful, for this series of stories (which are AU already, of course), they never happened. This is the fourth on the "Of Two Worlds" series, and takes place after "Bridging the Worlds."

CHAPTER ONE

From where he crouched atop the old Grell warehouse, Oliver watched as four men loaded crates of weapons - Russian-made AK-12 assault rifles, to be exact - into a waiting pickup that looked almost as dark as the moonless night.

Weeks of investigation, questioning and threatening everyone on the street who might have a remote connection to the Triads, the Bratva, the Mafia, or any other gang in Star City, had finally paid off. Team Arrow might not have known when the weapons were coming into Star City, but they'd damned well prevent them from leaving.

"Eyes on target," he murmured into his comm as the men returned to the warehouse for another load. "Status?"

"In position," Wild Dog replied, and instinctively, Oliver scanned the area across the alley from the pickup for any sign of his teammate and was pleased when he saw none. Rene was still, as his name implied, a little wild, but he was finally learning to be patient and wait for the opportune moment. Or Oliver's order, whichever came first.

"Same," came Diggle's - Spartan's - agreement. Oliver nodded, though neither of them could see it from their positions.

Despite the months of working with them, and the knowledge that he couldn't protect or save his city alone, he still missed his original team - no, his family: Spartan, Black Canary, Arsenal, Speedy. Each member of the new team was good, but so far they hadn't meshed into the unit he'd gotten so used to working with. He could only hope that they would, someday.

Oliver shoved those thoughts aside when he saw two of the men emerge from the warehouse, lugging another crate between them. Then he rose and loosed two arrows in quick succession, each puncturing one of the pickup's rear tires.

That was all the signal the other two needed. Wild Dog barreled out from his hiding place, firing both his guns at the men.

Oliver made a mental note to work on tranquilizer rounds for the other man. He'd learned over the years that the justice system should be given a chance to work, but Wild Dog didn't seem to care about that. Yet.

Oliver leapt down from his perch, landing behind the two men to engage them in hand-to-hand. Over his comm, he heard Wild Dog swear.

"Dammit, Arrow! I can't shoot them when I might hit you."

"That's the point," Oliver bit back, using his bow to sweep one of the men off his feet.

Oliver heard another curse, but kept his focus on the other man, blocking a wild, wide punch aimed at his midsection.

A purplish blur streaked across his vision, and in the moment between heartbeats, the gun-runners were all lined up before him on the ground, their wrists secured by zip-ties.

"Might as well call it a night if she's here," Wild Dog grumbled. "See you back at the bunker."

He turned and stalked off, and Oliver frowned at the men before him. Something didn't feel quite right.

"Are we done?" Dig asked from behind him.

"Yeah," Oliver replied absently. "Head on back."

A rustle of fabric told him Dig, too, was gone.

Oliver studied the men a moment longer, and then realization hit. It wasn't Kara's style to subdue and run. Still, the blur had been more purple than red or even orange, which meant it wasn't Barry or Wally making an unplanned trip to Star City.

Another meta? Working on our side?

A whisper of sound, like silk on skin, had him nocking an arrow and whirling to face… a dark-haired man in a blue and red suit with Kara's family crest on the chest.

"Jimmy said you're good," the man observed, and Oliver lowered his bow.

"You're Kara's cousin," Oliver said. "Kal-El."

"Clark Kent," the man corrected, then glanced around. "On the assumption that the sirens I hear are your police arriving, maybe we should talk somewhere else. Roof?"

"Roof." Oliver switched arrows and launched himself to the roof, not at all surprised when Superman arrived before he did.

He took a moment to tell Felicity - Overwatch - that he'd be a while getting back to the bunker and that she could call it a night before sliding his hood and mask off to face Kara's cousin.

"Alex already gave me the talk," he said.

"She told me. I wanted to meet you myself."

"Why?"

"To see what kind of man could make my cousin leave a world behind again."

"Huh."

Superman raised an eyebrow. "You don't think that's a valid reason?"

Oliver smiled tightly, the decision to be honest made before he thought about it. "I'm just surprised you care."

"I beg your pardon?" There was a regal air, almost an arrogance, in the question, and Oliver matched it with a disdainful look of his own.

"You were the only family she had on your Earth, and you couldn't be bothered to help her. By what standard do you judge me?"

Superman stiffened, and for a moment, Oliver thought he'd gone too far. Then the other man blew out a breath.

"I probably deserved that." Superman looked away, briefly, before meeting Oliver's gaze steadily. "I have no memories of Krypton. I arrived on Earth as a baby and grew up thinking I was some experiment or something - we didn't know. But I was unique. Alone."

"That had to be rough," Oliver said, unwilling sympathy welling within him.

"I finally accepted that I'd never know where I came from, made the best life I could. Then a spaceship fell from the sky, and I opened it to find Kara - twelve years old and speaking a language I didn't understand."

Oliver tried to picture Kara as a twelve-year-old newly arrived on Earth. Her eyes would be the same blue, of course, but she would've been nervous at best, terrified at worst, not the confident young woman he'd fallen in love with. But Superman was continuing, so Oliver dragged his attention back to the other man.

"She learned English faster than I learned Kryptonian," the other man said, his expression rueful. "She told me a story of a dying world and two rebel brothers who defied their government to save their children. She was my cousin, sent to protect me. It was a lot to take in."

"Sounds like," Oliver acknowledged when the silence threatened to linger too long.

"I was young." Superman's voice took on a more reflective tone, and he turned to gaze out across Star City's skyline. "Just starting out as Superman. I had no idea what to do with a pre-teen girl, much less everything she brought with her."

Anger flared again, and Oliver let it color his tone. "So you abandoned her to strangers on a strange world."

"Eliza and Jeremiah Danvers are good people. I knew they'd do better for her than I could."

"That depends on your definition of better," Oliver shot back. Then he summoned a little compassion and added, "I understand not knowing what to do with the unexpected. Do you understand that you're a big part of the reason she was willing to leave your Earth behind?"

Superman met his gaze. "I understand that I can't change what I did back then, can't fix it. But I can demonstrate that I've learned better."

That, Oliver could understand. He nodded once, accepting Superman's words. Then, "Anyone else going to give me the talk?"

The other man smiled slowly. "Oh, yeah."

Oliver concealed a groan. "Who?"

"Eliza."

Oliver could only smile, however unwillingly. "My future adoptive mother-in-law."

Superman nodded, and Oliver couldn't tell whether his expression was amused or sympathetic.

Probably both. "Where and when?"

"We'll let you know."

With that, Superman took off from the roof, leaving Oliver to oversee the arrival of SCPD and the arrests of the gun-runners.