Dinah is in one of the interrogation rooms in the precinct, alone, writing some notes after having questioned a suspect for armed robbery. She sighs. It's been a long day, and even though she had personally apprehended him as the Canary his lawyer was insistent on playing "caught by masked vigilantes" card. Her frustrations are interrupted, however, when she hears a knock on the door. She recognises the tall, broad-shouldered silhouette instantly, and her heart sinks as she closes her eyes and tries to gain some composure before calling resignedly, "Come in."

The door opens, and in comes John Diggle.

"Hey," he says.

"What are you doing here?" she says, and she winces at how sharp her words sound, but she can't help it.

"I… wanted to see you."

And Dinah can't help but soften at that, even though she knows it's literally the oldest cliche in the book.

"You want to shut the door?" she says. John does so, taking the seat opposite her, and despite everything she can't help but chuckle. She's interrogated a fair few people in this room, but she never expected him to be sitting in that chair.

No, she never expected him, period.

Still, he doesn't seem comfortable, not seeming to know where to put his hands, finally settling with them in his lap. It's only then that he speaks.

"The cameras -"

"- are off. It's okay." She clears her throat, tries to sit up a little straighter, but try as she might, she can't meet his eyes. "What is it? Does Oliver need something, or -?"

John shakes his head. "No, this is - about the other thing."

"What happened to us agreeing not to talk about it?" Dinah says lightly. "Look, I don't know what you want me to say, John. I woke up in the bunker and you were gone. I wasn't exactly going to wait around for you to show, if you did. Some of us have day jobs, you know."

"I'm sorry," he says softly.

She attempts to swallow the lump that's formed in her throat. "Me too. We - we were drinking, and it was a long night, and we were stupid. I was stupid."

He closes his eyes and for a moment he puts his head in his hands. "No, I mean, I'm sorry I had to go. I, uh, got a text from Lyla."

"Well, you said it yourself. She's your wife." (She wonders, then, what that makes her.)

"It was about JJ."

"Oh," she says, taken aback and instantly concerned. "Is he okay?"

"He will be, I hope. He was just coming down with something and throwing up a lot, so she… asked me to come home."

There's silence as she waits for him to continue.

"But I wanted you to know," he says eventually, and there's a scraping sound as he moves his chair forward an inch, "that I didn't mean to - leave you in a lurch. I just - my son needed me."

"And your wife," she adds. Finally she's able to look him in the eyes, and John clearly doesn't have the heart to disagree.

"God, what did I do, Dinah? I'm supposed to be - Oliver always said I was the best man that he knew."

"You are," Dinah says firmly. "You're the best man that I know, by a long shot."

"How? When just last night I - cheated on the mother of my child and just last year I killed my brother -"

"Let's not compare sins here," she interrupts. "We'll be here all day."

"You don't understand," he says.

"No, you don't." Her hands are on the table, and they're shaking and she makes to put them on her lap, but John covers them with his own before she can move.

"What do you mean?"

"Before - before you guys found me. Before you sought me out, you and the team -"

"You told me you were lost," John says quietly. And he seems to realise what he's doing and snatches his hand away.

"In more ways than one," she says. "When I first got my powers, it took me a while to control them. And when I was trying to uncover what happened to Vinnie, there was… collateral damage. A lot of it. But I was an undercover cop. I was good at covering my tracks. I kept on the move. So I didn't get caught."

Still, John doesn't look convinced. "I still think what I've done is worse."

She shrugs. "I don't know, John. But what I'm saying is - I have absolutely no right to judge, because whatever you've done, I've probably done worse."

"So, what, does that make us - kindred spirits or something?"

"No, it makes us human."

"Technically, you're a metahuman," John says.

Dinah rolls her eyes. "You know what I mean. Humans… we make mistakes. We screw up. We lose our moral compass for a hot minute and then it's up to us to find it again."

There's silence for a moment, and John's gaze drops to the table. "Was… was last night a screw-up?"

And she hates herself, but she would do anything to get rid of the guilt in his eyes. "Maybe," she says eventually.

He sighs. "So it's decided, then?"

"Yeah," she says faintly. "Forget it ever happened it is."

"Okay."

"And you're not going to tell Lyla." It's meant to be a question, but it doesn't quite come out that way.

"What's one more secret between us?" he says bitterly. "And - it's not like I can go back. Even if time travel does exist."

That throws her off completely. "Okay, alternate universes took a while to get my head around but - time travel? Seriously?"

And then to her surprise he laughs. "Come on, Dinah. I told you about the aliens. And - you're a walking example of the impossible. Is it that hard to believe?"

"I - don't change the subject," Dinah says. "We were talking about -"

"Moving on," he says.

And it's surprising how much his words slice at her heart. But she gets to her feet, now, and turns her back on him, because she can't possibly look him in the eyes after he says that. "Yeah. That."

"Dinah, I -"

"I should go," she says in a brittle voice as she turns to face him. "Got to get back to my day job. See you in the bunker."

"Are you - are we going to be okay?"

Dinah shakes her head, walks to the door and opens it for him. "Yeah. 'Course. Go home, John. Go home to your wife and son. And just - I want you to remember something."

"What?" John says uncertainly as he gets to his feet, and as he takes a couple of steps towards her it occurs to Dinah that this is the closest they've been since the previous night. She can't help her sharp intake of breath.

"Whatever you've done - whatever we've done - you're still a good person. And you always will be. Don't ever forget that."