(no subject)
Title: At First, Just A Little
Chapter: 3b/8(?)
Pairing: Oliver/Felicity,
Word count: 11,781
Rating: PG-13, rating higher in later chapters
Spoilers: Up to 2x14. But sort of an AUish 2x14.
Disclaimer: Arrow belongs to DC Comics. Birthday Letters belongs to Ted Hughes and whoever published that, I guess.
Summary: Felicity thinks that Oliver thinks she's in love with him. But she's totally not. Also starring Mirakuru.
A/N: Sara and Oliver are moving in together, Roy is getting worse, and Felicity decides to be a bit reckless. Character death, you guys. This shit is about to get real. LJ made me split this into two. Sorry for the inconvenience!
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3a
***
Chapter Three cont...
She woke to the sound of shattering glass in the distance. Her first thought was that Oliver had come to her rescue, but after a minute she wasn’t quite sure. There were men shouting at each other and screaming in what she assumed was pain, but she didn’t recognize any of the voices. Her head was pounding and there was blood in her mouth.
She tried to focus, but her glasses were gone and everything seemed soft around the edges. She heard Diggle's voice in her head demanding that she take note of her surroundings. Within the room she could make out some metal frames with lights rigged to them, a few IV stands, a refrigerator full of what had to be blood bags and a small grey metal box that had been left on a table nearby. There was a window to her right and a door just ahead of her that had been left open a crack. Every once in a while someone would run by with a shout, but no one made any attempt to enter. She was sitting at the end of a row of empty chairs, her wrists secured to the armrests by thick leather cuffs, while her legs were surprisingly unsecured. Her shoes were gone though, which she found a little weird. There were cameras hanging in two corners without any sort of indicator light on and she appeared to be alone.
She began tugging on the cuffs frantically, seeing if there was any slack, but they were tightly bound. She thought about the training she and Diggle had done after the Count had taken her, but most of it had been with zip ties and rope and in all of it he’d stressed how important it would be to her escape plan that she keep her body tense while she was being secured. Well, so much for that. She’d been unconscious the whole time and when she got back to the foundry they were going to have a very serious talk. She pulled and pulled, twisting her wrists, trying to slide her thumbs out, or fold her hands smaller, but all she was succeeding in doing was hurting herself.
The sounds of fighting outside grew more intense and she instinctively knew that if she were going to get out it would have to be now, while there was a distraction. She looked at the cuffs. The leather was brown and cracked, with light padding, but the most important thing was that the long strap that extended through the buckle securing her left wrist wasn’t 100% flush with the metal clasp. A small flutter of excitement came to life inside her. She leaned over with her mouth, her sides and neck straining as she bit down on that rise, desperately hoping she’d be able to slowly work it loose. She focused, the feel of the leather between her teeth unpleasant and the taste making her gag, but she pulled it centimeter by centimeter, until about two inches were finally pulled through. She repositioned her mouth on the strap and managed to pull it all the way free of the buckle. She leaned back down and bit at the leather closest to the prong, pushing herself to extend her neck away from her body and breathing hard as she felt the cuff give. The prong had slipped from the hole and she yanked her hand up, freed finally on the one side. She reached over and undid the other arm quickly and then ran over to the window. She slid it open and looked out, the hope of an easy escape fading instantly as she realized she was about four stories up with nothing to climb onto.
She looked around the room for her purse, knowing she could call for help if her phone was still in it, but the only thing she found were her glasses. They were resting alongside the small metal box on the table. The arm had broken off on one side, and the frame seemed cracked in places, but the lenses were whole. She slipped them on and the world snapped into focus. She turned her attention to the box, a sense of anticipation creeping up her spine as she lifted the lid. The inside had been divided into two rows of three and in each little square was a small vial of bright green liquid. She smiled. It had to be the cure.
In the distance she heard shouting again followed by the clang of metal on metal. A voice cried out, “Blood!” and she froze when she realized it belonged to the man she’d met earlier that night.
She needed to get out of there. She locked the lid back onto the box quickly and lifted it by its handle. It was heavier in her hand than she’d thought it would be and she thought about what it could be lined with as she made her way to the door. She slowly eased it open, taking a cautious step into the hallway and then pressing herself flush against the wall. She closed the door, hoping no one would realize she’d left until she was long gone. The sounds of fighting were coming from her right, so she made her way left. She had only gone about thirty feet when it sounded like something exploded beneath her. All the lights in the hallway went out and she ran, turning two corners before hitting a dead end. A door flew open to her right and a man came charging out. He froze when he saw her and she didn’t think, she just hauled her arm back and smashed him in the face with the metal box. He went down instantly but she had no time to process it. There was a window at the very end of the hall. She said a quick prayer as she approached it and smiled when it was answered. On the other side of the glass was a fire escape.
She pushed the window up, cringing as it scraped loudly against its frame in the dark hallway. She opened it just enough to slip under and then eased it shut behind her. She took a moment to scope out the area from the metal balcony. There were no guards she could make out, just an open alleyway four stories below.
She didn’t hesitate.
***
It was late and the walk back to the foundry was long and painful, her face throbbing from where she’d been hit and her feet in agony as they were cut up by the small rocks and bits of glass that littered the less than pristine sidewalks of the Glades. She stuck to side streets and darkened alleys when she could, afraid that someone would send a search party out looking for her. In just under an hour she pushed open the door to the basement and almost collapsed to her knees. She didn't know if she'd ever been so exhausted.
Sara was the first one to see her. “Oh my god, Felicity!” The woman called out as she ran up the stairs to her. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders and helped her down the final few steps. Oliver and Diggle came running after her.
“What happened? Was there an accident?” Diggle asked, scooping her up off her feet and carrying her over to a table. He sat her down carefully, Oliver standing silently to the side looking her over, with Sara just behind him.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, gripping the box tightly in her fingers as Diggle began examining her face.
“Was it Roy?” Sara asked nervously.
Felicity shook her head, “No.” That seemed like a strange assumption for Sara to have made, but she didn’t know if something had happened while she was gone.
Oliver took hold of her left wrist and began examining the bruises that had formed where she’d struggled against the restraints. His thumb ran over her skin lightly, as his eyes trailed over her body. His voice was tense. “Where are your shoes, Felicity?”
She shook her head, “I don’t know, he took them.” Diggle’s hands froze against her cheeks.
“Who took them?” Diggle asked.
“I’m not sure. A man in a mask, but not a skull one, a freaky goldish metal looking one with mismatched eyes. He had an accent.”
Oliver pushed his way closer. “What’s this?” He asked, looking at the box in her lap.
She lifted it towards him. There was a smattering of blood on the corner from where she’d hit the guy. “I stole it. For Roy.” Oliver slowly took the box from her hand and carried it over to a nearby desk.
“Felicity, I know you’re a little shaken up,” Diggle started, “but you need to tell us what happened.”
She nodded, but her eyes followed Oliver, watching closely as he lifted the lid. His entire body tensed when he took in its contents. He spun around to face her. “Where did you get this?”
“I was in this warehouse in the Glades. It’s not far. I have the address.” She went to grab for her purse before she remembered she’d never found it. Her hands lamely grabbed at the air for a second and then fell back to her lap.
Oliver stormed over to her. “How? How did you get it?” There was an underlying edge to his voice that made her nervous. Sara looked back and forth between them before making her way over to look in the box herself.
“You’re angry.” Felicity said to Oliver, her voice trembling softly.
“You’re damn right I’m angry,” Oliver said harshly, his hands clenching. “How did you get this?”
“Oh my god,” Sara gasped, pulling one of the vials out and holding the green liquid up to the light. Diggle turned and stared at it.
“I’ve been doing some research,” she said, swallowing nervously. “There was this guy, this hacker with information about Mirakuru. He told me that he had a cure.”
Oliver’s eyes went wide with incredulity, but his voice was softer. “And you believed him?”
Felicity reached for Oliver’s wrist. “He mentioned purgatory. He knew about Lian Yu.”
No one moved. The room went dead silent and she wished they could just take a break for a minute. Her face hurt, her wrists were sore, and she was pretty sure there were some deep cuts on her right foot. If they could just sit there in the quiet, Oliver would calm down enough for her to explain what had happened. It had all made sense a few hours ago.
He didn’t seem to want to do that though. He practically ripped his arm away from her. “So, what? You went to meet him? Alone?” His voice rattled her brain, the anger in it only matched by the hurt.
She nodded. “He was just supposed to be a hacker. I didn’t think he would-”
“No!” Oliver exploded. “No you didn’t think at all. How could you meet someone without taking me with you? You find someone who knows about Mirakuru, who knows about Lian Yu and you think what? That it won’t be of interest to us?”
Sara came over to Oliver’s side and pulled him away, running her hands over his back and arms. “Calm down, Ollie. Just calm down.”
“He said he had a cure.” Felicity said, anger rising within her as Oliver refused to let her explain. “He said I had to go alone. And it didn’t go perfectly, but I got out! I brought it back Oliver and I’m fine.”
“You are not fine!” He shouted, stalking back towards her. He lifted her wrist up in front of her so she could see the evidence of how not fine she was. “Your face, Felicity,” His other hand brushed her cheek and he shook his head angrily. “Nothing about this is fine. You could have been killed!” He dropped her hand abruptly and it fell limply to her lap. He took a shaky breath. “I didn't even know you were missing.”
She was starting to get irritated by how willfully obtuse he was being. “They’re just cuts and bruises. I’m not exactly thrilled that I got them, but that,” she said, pointing over at the metal box, “makes it worth it. We can fix Roy.”
“No.” Oliver said, his voice low and menacing. “No, we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not a cure,” Sara interrupted softly. “It’s Mirakuru.”
Felicity felt her eyes welling, felt a sob rising in her throat but swallowed it down.
Diggle exhaled loudly. “I thought we destroyed it all.”
Oliver shot him a look. “Clearly we were wrong.”
“Oliver,” Felicity began, “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “You should be, Felicity. This was a lead, the best lead we’ve had to find the people making this and now it’s worth nothing. You have an address, but by the time we get there, these guys will be gone. Who knows if we’ll be able to find them again?” He turned his back to her.
Sara ran a hand through her hair. “We should check the perimeter. Make sure she wasn’t followed.”
Felicity swallowed. “What?”
Diggle frowned. “They could have let you escape to see where you would go.”
Felicity shook her head, trying to focus on what had happened that night. There was something important she was supposed to be telling them. “No, no, I don’t think they meant to let me go. There was a fight. I woke up in this room strapped to a chair, but my restraints weren’t done right and I got out. I could hear shouting, so I just grabbed the box and ran in the other direction.” She thought for a moment and then her eyes rounded. “I think…I think Sebastian Blood was there. Oh God, Oliver, wait. They know who you are.”
“You were strapped to a chair?” Oliver asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Sebastian Blood, you’re sure?” Diggle asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, the accented masky guy was shouting his name. Well not Sebastian, just Blood. I mean that could be a coincidence, I guess. But he flat out told me he knew Oliver was the vigilante. He said he was an old friend.”
Diggle shook his head. “I don’t like any of this. He could have been talking about Blood and Oliver just to see what you’d say. People know that they’re friends. We should definitely check the perimeter.”
Sara nodded. “Why don’t you and I do it? Oliver, you stay here and help clean her up.” Oliver looked like he was going to protest, but Sara cut him off before he could speak. “If they were fishing for information about you, it won’t do any good to show them your face. If anyone is watching, she just came to a place she knows someone at. Stay here and just be her boss. No need to confirm you’re anything more.” Oliver nodded.
When Diggle and Sara were gone an uneasy tension settled between Oliver and Felicity. He took out a first aid kit to tend to her wounds and then worked on her in total silence. The only noise came from her small murmurs of discomfort, which echoed a little in the room whenever he applied anything more than the gentlest of touches to her cheek. “Sorry,” he finally murmured when she winced strongly under his hand. “I’m going to give you something for the pain.
“Okay.”
His eyes softened a little as he took in her increasingly swollen face. He walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a syringe of morphine. “What did he hit you with?”
“I don’t really remember,” she shrugged. “His fist, I think.” Oliver walked up to her, and wiped a patch of her upper arm with an alcohol wipe and then plunged the needle in. Felicity flinched a little.
“Well, it was quite a punch. Your eye socket is okay, but you still might have a fracture,” he sighed, tossing the needle. “We should go to the hospital.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Felicity.”
“I’ll just ice it, Oliver. If it gets worse tomorrow I’ll go.”
He dropped his hands from her face to the edge of the table, one just outside each of her knees. “Why are you fighting me on this. You’re hurt. You need medical attention.”
“And I’m getting it.”
“Felicity.”
“What? It’s not like you ever go.”
“Yeah but that’s…”
“Different because it’s you? Like you’re some special snowflake that the laws of modern medicine don’t apply to? Please.”
His head dropped and he shook it slowly. “Sometimes, I really don’t understand you. You’re the smartest person I know, but you’re acting like an idiot.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Don’t push me right now,” he said tersely, shoving lightly off from the table and then walking towards the back. He returned a few minutes later with a tub of warm soapy water and a washcloth. Without saying a word he knelt down in front of her, his hands lightly running over her feet so he could examine them. He dipped the cloth in the water and then ran it over her calves and feet, cleaning the dirt and grime away. It felt sort of amazing actually, and she hummed softly in appreciation.
“Your feet are a mess.” He said, cradling the right one in his hand as he wiped the top of it off.
She wasn’t surprised, that foot was possibly throbbing more than her face at the moment. “It was a long walk home.”
His hands stilled on her heel, his head falling forward so that his forehead brushed against her shin. He blew out an unsteady breath and she shivered. “I’m really mad at you right now,” he said softly.
“I know.”
He pulled his head back, reaching for the tweezers and packets of antiseptic wipes. “It looks like there’s some glass or gravel in there,” he said, tearing open a wipe and running it over the sole of her foot. She hissed loudly at the burn of it and then licked her lips. “Just try and remember," she said, her voice a little strained, "that I’m always nice to you when I patch you up after you do something stupid.”
He wiped the same spot again but this time he blew softly against the wound to ease the sting. Her mouth went dry.
He lifted her foot a little and used the tweezers to pull a shard of something from her skin. “I don’t understand why you would keep this from me.”
She took a deep breath, feeling the edges of the pain beginning to blur from the shot. It was like she was suddenly tipsy. “So, I guess you’re the only person allowed to keep secrets, now? I’m sorry Oliver, but you’re being a bit of a hypocrite. I don’t tell you one thing for like one hour and you’re going to lecture me about keeping you in the dark?”
“Felicity,” he warned.
She blew out a sharp breath as he began stitching the cut in her foot up. “Don’t ‘Felicity’ me. You keep things from me all the time and never apologize. You’ve told Digg way more about the island than you’ve told me.”
He examined her foot closely, pressing his fingers into her skin as he tried to force it back together. “So what, this is tit for tat?”
“No. I’m not a child. I wasn’t plotting out some grand scheme. I was just trying to do my part.”
He pulled some gauze from the kit and slowly wrapped it around her foot. “You do your part. You always do your part.”
“I haven’t exactly been the most useful member of the team, lately.”
Oliver taped down the gauze and switched to her other foot. “That’s not how we see it.”
She felt her eyes filling with tears, or maybe they were just no longer focusing fully. She yawned. “How can you not? You guys go out there every night, and I just sit here listening in on the comms.”
He shook his head and tore open a new wipe. “This is going to sting,” he said as he swept it over the bottom of the big toe on her left foot. She flinched and then watched slightly fascinated as he once again blew lightly on the skin to ease the pain. She closed her eyes and had a flash of him in another setting, sitting just as he was, drawing her toe into his mouth, his tongue running over the skin, his teeth scraping down on the digit. She’d never shown any signs of having a foot fetish before, but a pulse of desire licked into her belly. She gasped, her fingers curling over the edge of the table.
He looked up at her quickly, “You ok?”
She nodded, opening her eyes and willing herself to focus. "I may be practically useless in the field," she said lowly, her voice a little breathy, "but there are things I can do that I haven't even shown you yet. Things that would blow your mind, Oliver." His fingers sort of skidded over her skin and the tweezers dropped to the concrete floor with a small clatter. He stared up at her in shock, his cheeks flushed and his mouth hanging open.
She shook her head. “Things I can do with a computer," she muttered, a little embarrassed. "Mind blowing computer things.”
His jaw clenched as he let her foot slip from his hands. He looked away, snatching the tweezers back up and then toying with them for a moment. She had the distinct impression he was trying to steady his own breath.
She tried again, but her brain was beginning to feel fuzzy. “I’ve been gathering information on Mirakuru from all over, Oliver. But it hasn’t been enough, I’ve been too careful. That’s my whole problem in general, right? Always so careful. Well, I took a risk today because I thought it was worth it. Not that I really thought it was a risk at the time. I was expecting some freaky loner guy who spent too much time reading conspiracy websites and combing through WikiLeaks. I definitely would have told you if I’d suspected he was some sort of hacker ninja. Next time I won’t be as naïve, trust me.”
Oliver gently picked up her foot again. “I do trust you. I probably only trust you. And Digg. I put my life in your hands whenever I walk out that door. You tell me to go somewhere or do something and I do it, I don’t even think about it. So I count on you, of all people, to always be honest with me.” He put some ointment over a gash on the ball of her foot and then covered it with a bandage.
She watched him as he worked. “I wasn’t hiding this from you on purpose, Oliver. I was just getting more information. That’s what I do, you know? It's kind of the whole reason I'm here to begin with. I thought I’d be coming back with good news for you. Maybe I thought I could be a little bit of a hero for once. Even without having all the muscles.”
He released her left foot. “The thing about heroes is that they get hurt, Felicity.” He stood up, and lifted his hand to cradle the undamaged side of her face, his thumb lightly stroking her cheek. “I can’t stand the idea of something happening to you,” he whispered and then his eyes widened with surprise as if he hadn’t meant to say anything like that to her.
“Nothing happened.”
His hand fell away and his body seemed to go rigid. “All this is nothing?” He asked angrily. “These cuts on your feet, the damage to your face, those bruises on your wrists? You were tied to a chair in a room with Mirakuru, just like Roy was when I found him. You could have been injected.”
Her breath hitched as she realized how much worse her day could have been. “But I wasn’t.”
“Because you got lucky. I should have been there to protect you.”
“I protected myself.”
His hands clenched at his sides. “No, you didn’t. Protecting yourself would have been making sure you weren’t in that position to begin with.” He ran a hand over her shoulder. “You have to promise me you won’t take a risk like this again.”
She folded her hands into her lap, taking in the purple marks that were growing darker on her pale skin. He was wrong. What she’d done had been worth it. She hadn’t come back with a cure, but now they had something they could analyze. It might be possible to make a cure. She looked up at him. “I won't do that. Today didn’t exactly work out, I know, and I’ll make sure you’re always in the loop about stuff like this, but if I have a chance to save Roy, or any of you, I’m going to take it.”
He took a few steps back from her, his arms extending out at his sides a little. “Then I don’t know if I can have you here.”
She hopped off the table too fast, her feet screaming at her as they hit the floor. The room seemed to bend and she grabbed the table for balance. “Don't say that.”
“It's the truth.”
She dragged her hand over her head angrily, feeling the bumps in her hair and realizing how messy her ponytail must have been. “You don’t get to make that decision.”
“I think that I do.”
“Well I think that you don’t,” she snapped. “Digg will have a vote and I think he’ll side with me. You make decisions everyday. Sometimes they work out and sometimes they don’t and we support you every time. We stand by you. You need to do the same for us.”
“I can’t do that if you’re just going to run around trying to get yourself killed.”
She was done with this nonsense. She threw her hands up in the air, but was a little surprised when they fell back down against her sides in a somewhat uncontrolled and heavy slap. “No one’s trying to do that! I am 100% not trying to do that. I like being alive, being alive is good, death is bad and not on my agenda, but you can’t prevent me from doing what I think is right. You’re not my father or my boyfriend and I’m not some star struck girl that’s head over heels in love with you and willing to take whatever crumbs you’ll throw my way. You don’t get the deciding vote on what I do with my life.”
He shot her a look indicating he totally thought he had that kind of power and she was too exhausted to react to it maturely. Her face and her feet were hurting her so badly and the medicine was taking the edge off, but it hadn’t come close to numbing everything yet. She wanted to crawl into bed and not come out for days, so if he wanted her gone she was happy to go. “Fine, if you say I can’t be here, I’ll find someone else that wants my help.”
He smiled wryly. “Like who?”
“There’s always that bat guy in Gotham. I bet he could use a friend.”
Oliver’s jaw clenched. “You don’t even know who he is.”
“Well, with what I know about vigilantes, he’s most likely a billionaire and a jackass. The list of possibilities can’t be too long.” They stared at each other, neither willing to back down.
“Fine," he said coldly. “If that’s what you want to do then I can’t stop you.”
She shook her head angrily, which caused the room to sway a bit. She planted her hand on the table’s edge as she waited for everything to stop moving. “It’s not what I want to do, Oliver, and you know it.” Her tongue felt thick in her mouth and it was getting harder to form the words she needed, her brain seemed slower and faster all at the same time. “I want to be part of this team, but you don’t get to use me whenever it’s convenient for you and set me aside when it gets to be too much. If you want to play that game, talk to your girlfriend. Although, I don’t think that’ll fly with her either, at least not anymore.”
Oliver’s eyes flashed with anger. “That’s a low blow.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that.
“Sara and I are both aware of our past. We don’t need you throwing it in our faces.”
“I wasn’t trying to. Honestly, Oliver I didn’t mean that. It just came out wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so tired and everything really hurts.”
He nodded, but the anger was evident in the set of his shoulders. “I’ll get Digg to drive you home.”
“Oliver, please. I’m so sorry.”
He ignored her, grabbing a set of keys off his desk as he pulled out his phone to text Digg to meet them at the car. “Let’s go," he said, as he headed up the stairs. She followed him slowly, her body seeming to have trouble processing that she was trying to climb. When she finally got to the door he gave her a long look before punching in the alarm code. As soon as it beeped its acceptance he leaned down and swept her up off her feet.
The world tilted. “Whoa. What are you doing?”
“I just bandaged your feet.”
“I can walk to the car. This is weird. You’re mad at me,” she said sleepily, settling her arm around the back of his neck.
He pushed the door open and walked them out into the mostly deserted parking lot. Diggle and Sara were nowhere to be seen. “Yeah, well mad or not, you don’t have any shoes on.”
“You lived on an island for five years without shoes. I think I can survive a fifty foot walk.”
He looked straight ahead. “I had shoes.”
She frowned. “No, you told me you didn’t.”
"I wasn't being serious."
She was silent for a moment and then gasped loudly. “What about a shirt?”
The corners of his lips tugged up. “I had a shirt too. A few of them.”
"So on a deserted island you manage to stay dressed, but back here you just can’t keep your clothes on. That makes no sense.” She rested her head on his shoulder. Angry at her or not, he was nice and warm up against her in the cool night air. She could feel the muscle of his forearm under her thighs and knew it would be something she’d probably think about later. He felt so solid and safe that for a moment she couldn’t remember why she hadn’t just promised him what he wanted. The idea of Oliver always being around to protect her was not exactly unappealing and this would have been a much nicer experience if they were on better terms. She yawned and realized he hadn't laughed at her joke. “Are you still mad at me?”
He tilted his head, his voice sharper than she really thought it needed to be. “A little.”
“Is that why,” she asked, her words slurring a bit, as they reached the car, “you’re trying to ruin my fantasy of you on the island?” He sat her down carefully on the side of the hood, leaving her legs to dangle over the tire.
“What did you imagine?” He asked as he clicked the remote to unlock the locks.
”I don’t know,” she smiled goofily. “You in a loin cloth,” she started, her hand rising into the air and making an exaggerated swoop, “swinging around on some vines.”
His eyebrows inched up his forehead. “A loin cloth?”
“Hey, what can you do? At least I let you wear something.”
He laughed softly and then leaned against the hood next to her. He let his head fall back as he looked up at the sky for a minute. It was cloudy and grey, with no stars peeking through. She watched the clouds moving across it for a moment and thought of the sea in her dream. She shuddered.
“Felicity,” he began, “I know I can be overprotective, but I’m not trying to control you. I just want to keep you safe.” He crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath, letting his head drop back down. “You’re worth more than the rest of us,” he said quietly. “Do you understand?”
Her heart fluttered to life in her chest, beating so rapidly she thought it might strain. That was a crazy thing for him to say and completely untrue. She shook her head no.
He pushed off of the car and stood in front of her. “You’re one of the few bright spots in my life. I need you to be the one that comes out of all of this okay when it's done. The idea of something bad happening to you...it makes me wish I’d never been given your name.”
“Don’t say that,” she whispered.
His eyes locked onto hers and he licked his lips. "You'd be safer."
"S'ridiculous. There's no way you can know. What if all the crazy things that happened still happened but I didn’t know you? I'd have had my head blown off by a necklace bomb.” She giggled. “So embarrassing."
He shook his head. "That's not even not funny."
She started to slide off the hood of the car.
"Your feet-" he said, reaching out and catching her at the waist, not letting her down off the hood.
She looked up him. "I don't care about my feet."
He smiled, pushing her back. "I care about your feet."
She rolled her eyes as she settled again on the car. "Fine. I was going to hug you so just imagine it happened, okay?”
He nodded. "Okay."
“And listen Oliver. We’re both gonna come out of this okay. And so will Diggle. And Sara. And, well, everyone. In the whole world. Except the bad guys, obviously. They’re going down.” She reached out and playfully punched at his shoulder. “You still mad at me?”
“No," he smiled ruefully, stepping towards her. "I’m not still mad at you.” His hand reached out and cradled her unbruised cheek while his other hand skimmed over her ponytail. “I never seem to stay mad at you.”
Deep inside she was starting to feel warm, as if she’d settled into a hot bath. Everything had a very pleasant haze around it and she felt nice and soft and squishy. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the bruised cheek.
“Did you make it better?” She asked as he pulled back, her eyes wide and unfocussed.
He nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”
She smiled the smile of someone high as a kite. “Thanks.”
They sat there, in the cool night air, waiting for Diggle. “I’m tired. How far out is this perimeter thing anyway?” she asked.
“What?”
“They said they were going to check the perimeter, but it’s like how long does it take to walk around the building? A crazy long time, apparently.”
“Well, it’s a couple of blocks. It’s beyond our cameras. They’ll be back soon.”
She was about to nod when a woman's scream pierced through the air. Oliver went from relaxed to fully alert instantly, his eyes darting around, his shoulders back as he waited for there to be more information. There were a few seconds of silence and then Oliver’s name curled through the air on Sara's voice. He turned and ran towards the cry, leaping over car hoods and boxes and anything else that stood in the way of getting to her.
Felicity slid from the car, every bone in her body protesting, her feet slapping against the pavement painfully as she chased unsteadily after him.
She finally rounded the corner heading towards the main entrance of Verdant and found herself running straight into Oliver’s back. He threw his arm out, trying to keep her from going any further. She grabbed it to balance herself and then attempted to step to the side. He turned around quickly and gathered her against him. “Don’t look,” he pleaded, holding her head to his chest.
Her head was swimming. Digg, she thought, and her heart sank. She was going to be sick.
She pushed her arms against Oliver’s chest, trying to get away, but he didn’t move at all. “Felicity, you don’t want to see.” She pushed again and his arms went slack. She stepped away from him until she saw Sara kneeling on the ground looking helplessly at a lifeless body.
It wasn’t Digg. That was the only thought she had and she smiled until her brain caught up with her eyes. The body belonged to a boy. A boy in jeans and a red hoodie. Her stomach dropped.
Roy.
His handsome face had been marred by the arrow that had been shot through his eye. She watched his blood seeping into the pavement for a moment, the air around his body seeming to shimmer as his life ran out of him. It didn't seem real. She had the distinct feeling that she was looking at the scene through a tube or a tunnel. He was right there, but everything seemed so far away.
“There was a note,” Sara began.
Oliver’s voice was sharp and commanding. “Tell me.”
Sara unfolded a piece of paper, and Felicity watched as her fingers printed it with blood. Sara's voice trembled a little as she read. “This time I made the choice for you, kid.”
Oliver and Sara stared at each other as Diggle ran up. Felicity turned and almost fell against him, her arms wrapping around his middle as she pressed her face into his chest. Tears began to fall from her eyes, a combination of her sadness and also the shame of her relief that the body had been Roy and not Digg. Her friend had gone still when she locked onto him, but as he processed the scene, his hand began running up and down her back comfortingly.
“What happened?” Diggle asked roughly.
Oliver shook his head. “It can’t be.”
“It can’t be what?” Felicity asked.
Sara’s voice was raw and her eyes never left Oliver’s. “Slade.”
***
Chapter: 3b/8(?)
Pairing: Oliver/Felicity,
Word count: 11,781
Rating: PG-13, rating higher in later chapters
Spoilers: Up to 2x14. But sort of an AUish 2x14.
Disclaimer: Arrow belongs to DC Comics. Birthday Letters belongs to Ted Hughes and whoever published that, I guess.
Summary: Felicity thinks that Oliver thinks she's in love with him. But she's totally not. Also starring Mirakuru.
A/N: Sara and Oliver are moving in together, Roy is getting worse, and Felicity decides to be a bit reckless. Character death, you guys. This shit is about to get real. LJ made me split this into two. Sorry for the inconvenience!
Previous Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3a
***
Chapter Three cont...
She woke to the sound of shattering glass in the distance. Her first thought was that Oliver had come to her rescue, but after a minute she wasn’t quite sure. There were men shouting at each other and screaming in what she assumed was pain, but she didn’t recognize any of the voices. Her head was pounding and there was blood in her mouth.
She tried to focus, but her glasses were gone and everything seemed soft around the edges. She heard Diggle's voice in her head demanding that she take note of her surroundings. Within the room she could make out some metal frames with lights rigged to them, a few IV stands, a refrigerator full of what had to be blood bags and a small grey metal box that had been left on a table nearby. There was a window to her right and a door just ahead of her that had been left open a crack. Every once in a while someone would run by with a shout, but no one made any attempt to enter. She was sitting at the end of a row of empty chairs, her wrists secured to the armrests by thick leather cuffs, while her legs were surprisingly unsecured. Her shoes were gone though, which she found a little weird. There were cameras hanging in two corners without any sort of indicator light on and she appeared to be alone.
She began tugging on the cuffs frantically, seeing if there was any slack, but they were tightly bound. She thought about the training she and Diggle had done after the Count had taken her, but most of it had been with zip ties and rope and in all of it he’d stressed how important it would be to her escape plan that she keep her body tense while she was being secured. Well, so much for that. She’d been unconscious the whole time and when she got back to the foundry they were going to have a very serious talk. She pulled and pulled, twisting her wrists, trying to slide her thumbs out, or fold her hands smaller, but all she was succeeding in doing was hurting herself.
The sounds of fighting outside grew more intense and she instinctively knew that if she were going to get out it would have to be now, while there was a distraction. She looked at the cuffs. The leather was brown and cracked, with light padding, but the most important thing was that the long strap that extended through the buckle securing her left wrist wasn’t 100% flush with the metal clasp. A small flutter of excitement came to life inside her. She leaned over with her mouth, her sides and neck straining as she bit down on that rise, desperately hoping she’d be able to slowly work it loose. She focused, the feel of the leather between her teeth unpleasant and the taste making her gag, but she pulled it centimeter by centimeter, until about two inches were finally pulled through. She repositioned her mouth on the strap and managed to pull it all the way free of the buckle. She leaned back down and bit at the leather closest to the prong, pushing herself to extend her neck away from her body and breathing hard as she felt the cuff give. The prong had slipped from the hole and she yanked her hand up, freed finally on the one side. She reached over and undid the other arm quickly and then ran over to the window. She slid it open and looked out, the hope of an easy escape fading instantly as she realized she was about four stories up with nothing to climb onto.
She looked around the room for her purse, knowing she could call for help if her phone was still in it, but the only thing she found were her glasses. They were resting alongside the small metal box on the table. The arm had broken off on one side, and the frame seemed cracked in places, but the lenses were whole. She slipped them on and the world snapped into focus. She turned her attention to the box, a sense of anticipation creeping up her spine as she lifted the lid. The inside had been divided into two rows of three and in each little square was a small vial of bright green liquid. She smiled. It had to be the cure.
In the distance she heard shouting again followed by the clang of metal on metal. A voice cried out, “Blood!” and she froze when she realized it belonged to the man she’d met earlier that night.
She needed to get out of there. She locked the lid back onto the box quickly and lifted it by its handle. It was heavier in her hand than she’d thought it would be and she thought about what it could be lined with as she made her way to the door. She slowly eased it open, taking a cautious step into the hallway and then pressing herself flush against the wall. She closed the door, hoping no one would realize she’d left until she was long gone. The sounds of fighting were coming from her right, so she made her way left. She had only gone about thirty feet when it sounded like something exploded beneath her. All the lights in the hallway went out and she ran, turning two corners before hitting a dead end. A door flew open to her right and a man came charging out. He froze when he saw her and she didn’t think, she just hauled her arm back and smashed him in the face with the metal box. He went down instantly but she had no time to process it. There was a window at the very end of the hall. She said a quick prayer as she approached it and smiled when it was answered. On the other side of the glass was a fire escape.
She pushed the window up, cringing as it scraped loudly against its frame in the dark hallway. She opened it just enough to slip under and then eased it shut behind her. She took a moment to scope out the area from the metal balcony. There were no guards she could make out, just an open alleyway four stories below.
She didn’t hesitate.
***
It was late and the walk back to the foundry was long and painful, her face throbbing from where she’d been hit and her feet in agony as they were cut up by the small rocks and bits of glass that littered the less than pristine sidewalks of the Glades. She stuck to side streets and darkened alleys when she could, afraid that someone would send a search party out looking for her. In just under an hour she pushed open the door to the basement and almost collapsed to her knees. She didn't know if she'd ever been so exhausted.
Sara was the first one to see her. “Oh my god, Felicity!” The woman called out as she ran up the stairs to her. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders and helped her down the final few steps. Oliver and Diggle came running after her.
“What happened? Was there an accident?” Diggle asked, scooping her up off her feet and carrying her over to a table. He sat her down carefully, Oliver standing silently to the side looking her over, with Sara just behind him.
“I’m fine,” she whispered, gripping the box tightly in her fingers as Diggle began examining her face.
“Was it Roy?” Sara asked nervously.
Felicity shook her head, “No.” That seemed like a strange assumption for Sara to have made, but she didn’t know if something had happened while she was gone.
Oliver took hold of her left wrist and began examining the bruises that had formed where she’d struggled against the restraints. His thumb ran over her skin lightly, as his eyes trailed over her body. His voice was tense. “Where are your shoes, Felicity?”
She shook her head, “I don’t know, he took them.” Diggle’s hands froze against her cheeks.
“Who took them?” Diggle asked.
“I’m not sure. A man in a mask, but not a skull one, a freaky goldish metal looking one with mismatched eyes. He had an accent.”
Oliver pushed his way closer. “What’s this?” He asked, looking at the box in her lap.
She lifted it towards him. There was a smattering of blood on the corner from where she’d hit the guy. “I stole it. For Roy.” Oliver slowly took the box from her hand and carried it over to a nearby desk.
“Felicity, I know you’re a little shaken up,” Diggle started, “but you need to tell us what happened.”
She nodded, but her eyes followed Oliver, watching closely as he lifted the lid. His entire body tensed when he took in its contents. He spun around to face her. “Where did you get this?”
“I was in this warehouse in the Glades. It’s not far. I have the address.” She went to grab for her purse before she remembered she’d never found it. Her hands lamely grabbed at the air for a second and then fell back to her lap.
Oliver stormed over to her. “How? How did you get it?” There was an underlying edge to his voice that made her nervous. Sara looked back and forth between them before making her way over to look in the box herself.
“You’re angry.” Felicity said to Oliver, her voice trembling softly.
“You’re damn right I’m angry,” Oliver said harshly, his hands clenching. “How did you get this?”
“Oh my god,” Sara gasped, pulling one of the vials out and holding the green liquid up to the light. Diggle turned and stared at it.
“I’ve been doing some research,” she said, swallowing nervously. “There was this guy, this hacker with information about Mirakuru. He told me that he had a cure.”
Oliver’s eyes went wide with incredulity, but his voice was softer. “And you believed him?”
Felicity reached for Oliver’s wrist. “He mentioned purgatory. He knew about Lian Yu.”
No one moved. The room went dead silent and she wished they could just take a break for a minute. Her face hurt, her wrists were sore, and she was pretty sure there were some deep cuts on her right foot. If they could just sit there in the quiet, Oliver would calm down enough for her to explain what had happened. It had all made sense a few hours ago.
He didn’t seem to want to do that though. He practically ripped his arm away from her. “So, what? You went to meet him? Alone?” His voice rattled her brain, the anger in it only matched by the hurt.
She nodded. “He was just supposed to be a hacker. I didn’t think he would-”
“No!” Oliver exploded. “No you didn’t think at all. How could you meet someone without taking me with you? You find someone who knows about Mirakuru, who knows about Lian Yu and you think what? That it won’t be of interest to us?”
Sara came over to Oliver’s side and pulled him away, running her hands over his back and arms. “Calm down, Ollie. Just calm down.”
“He said he had a cure.” Felicity said, anger rising within her as Oliver refused to let her explain. “He said I had to go alone. And it didn’t go perfectly, but I got out! I brought it back Oliver and I’m fine.”
“You are not fine!” He shouted, stalking back towards her. He lifted her wrist up in front of her so she could see the evidence of how not fine she was. “Your face, Felicity,” His other hand brushed her cheek and he shook his head angrily. “Nothing about this is fine. You could have been killed!” He dropped her hand abruptly and it fell limply to her lap. He took a shaky breath. “I didn't even know you were missing.”
She was starting to get irritated by how willfully obtuse he was being. “They’re just cuts and bruises. I’m not exactly thrilled that I got them, but that,” she said, pointing over at the metal box, “makes it worth it. We can fix Roy.”
“No.” Oliver said, his voice low and menacing. “No, we can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s not a cure,” Sara interrupted softly. “It’s Mirakuru.”
Felicity felt her eyes welling, felt a sob rising in her throat but swallowed it down.
Diggle exhaled loudly. “I thought we destroyed it all.”
Oliver shot him a look. “Clearly we were wrong.”
“Oliver,” Felicity began, “I’m sorry.”
He nodded. “You should be, Felicity. This was a lead, the best lead we’ve had to find the people making this and now it’s worth nothing. You have an address, but by the time we get there, these guys will be gone. Who knows if we’ll be able to find them again?” He turned his back to her.
Sara ran a hand through her hair. “We should check the perimeter. Make sure she wasn’t followed.”
Felicity swallowed. “What?”
Diggle frowned. “They could have let you escape to see where you would go.”
Felicity shook her head, trying to focus on what had happened that night. There was something important she was supposed to be telling them. “No, no, I don’t think they meant to let me go. There was a fight. I woke up in this room strapped to a chair, but my restraints weren’t done right and I got out. I could hear shouting, so I just grabbed the box and ran in the other direction.” She thought for a moment and then her eyes rounded. “I think…I think Sebastian Blood was there. Oh God, Oliver, wait. They know who you are.”
“You were strapped to a chair?” Oliver asked, his eyes narrowing.
“Sebastian Blood, you’re sure?” Diggle asked.
She nodded. “Yeah, the accented masky guy was shouting his name. Well not Sebastian, just Blood. I mean that could be a coincidence, I guess. But he flat out told me he knew Oliver was the vigilante. He said he was an old friend.”
Diggle shook his head. “I don’t like any of this. He could have been talking about Blood and Oliver just to see what you’d say. People know that they’re friends. We should definitely check the perimeter.”
Sara nodded. “Why don’t you and I do it? Oliver, you stay here and help clean her up.” Oliver looked like he was going to protest, but Sara cut him off before he could speak. “If they were fishing for information about you, it won’t do any good to show them your face. If anyone is watching, she just came to a place she knows someone at. Stay here and just be her boss. No need to confirm you’re anything more.” Oliver nodded.
When Diggle and Sara were gone an uneasy tension settled between Oliver and Felicity. He took out a first aid kit to tend to her wounds and then worked on her in total silence. The only noise came from her small murmurs of discomfort, which echoed a little in the room whenever he applied anything more than the gentlest of touches to her cheek. “Sorry,” he finally murmured when she winced strongly under his hand. “I’m going to give you something for the pain.
“Okay.”
His eyes softened a little as he took in her increasingly swollen face. He walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a syringe of morphine. “What did he hit you with?”
“I don’t really remember,” she shrugged. “His fist, I think.” Oliver walked up to her, and wiped a patch of her upper arm with an alcohol wipe and then plunged the needle in. Felicity flinched a little.
“Well, it was quite a punch. Your eye socket is okay, but you still might have a fracture,” he sighed, tossing the needle. “We should go to the hospital.”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Felicity.”
“I’ll just ice it, Oliver. If it gets worse tomorrow I’ll go.”
He dropped his hands from her face to the edge of the table, one just outside each of her knees. “Why are you fighting me on this. You’re hurt. You need medical attention.”
“And I’m getting it.”
“Felicity.”
“What? It’s not like you ever go.”
“Yeah but that’s…”
“Different because it’s you? Like you’re some special snowflake that the laws of modern medicine don’t apply to? Please.”
His head dropped and he shook it slowly. “Sometimes, I really don’t understand you. You’re the smartest person I know, but you’re acting like an idiot.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Don’t push me right now,” he said tersely, shoving lightly off from the table and then walking towards the back. He returned a few minutes later with a tub of warm soapy water and a washcloth. Without saying a word he knelt down in front of her, his hands lightly running over her feet so he could examine them. He dipped the cloth in the water and then ran it over her calves and feet, cleaning the dirt and grime away. It felt sort of amazing actually, and she hummed softly in appreciation.
“Your feet are a mess.” He said, cradling the right one in his hand as he wiped the top of it off.
She wasn’t surprised, that foot was possibly throbbing more than her face at the moment. “It was a long walk home.”
His hands stilled on her heel, his head falling forward so that his forehead brushed against her shin. He blew out an unsteady breath and she shivered. “I’m really mad at you right now,” he said softly.
“I know.”
He pulled his head back, reaching for the tweezers and packets of antiseptic wipes. “It looks like there’s some glass or gravel in there,” he said, tearing open a wipe and running it over the sole of her foot. She hissed loudly at the burn of it and then licked her lips. “Just try and remember," she said, her voice a little strained, "that I’m always nice to you when I patch you up after you do something stupid.”
He wiped the same spot again but this time he blew softly against the wound to ease the sting. Her mouth went dry.
He lifted her foot a little and used the tweezers to pull a shard of something from her skin. “I don’t understand why you would keep this from me.”
She took a deep breath, feeling the edges of the pain beginning to blur from the shot. It was like she was suddenly tipsy. “So, I guess you’re the only person allowed to keep secrets, now? I’m sorry Oliver, but you’re being a bit of a hypocrite. I don’t tell you one thing for like one hour and you’re going to lecture me about keeping you in the dark?”
“Felicity,” he warned.
She blew out a sharp breath as he began stitching the cut in her foot up. “Don’t ‘Felicity’ me. You keep things from me all the time and never apologize. You’ve told Digg way more about the island than you’ve told me.”
He examined her foot closely, pressing his fingers into her skin as he tried to force it back together. “So what, this is tit for tat?”
“No. I’m not a child. I wasn’t plotting out some grand scheme. I was just trying to do my part.”
He pulled some gauze from the kit and slowly wrapped it around her foot. “You do your part. You always do your part.”
“I haven’t exactly been the most useful member of the team, lately.”
Oliver taped down the gauze and switched to her other foot. “That’s not how we see it.”
She felt her eyes filling with tears, or maybe they were just no longer focusing fully. She yawned. “How can you not? You guys go out there every night, and I just sit here listening in on the comms.”
He shook his head and tore open a new wipe. “This is going to sting,” he said as he swept it over the bottom of the big toe on her left foot. She flinched and then watched slightly fascinated as he once again blew lightly on the skin to ease the pain. She closed her eyes and had a flash of him in another setting, sitting just as he was, drawing her toe into his mouth, his tongue running over the skin, his teeth scraping down on the digit. She’d never shown any signs of having a foot fetish before, but a pulse of desire licked into her belly. She gasped, her fingers curling over the edge of the table.
He looked up at her quickly, “You ok?”
She nodded, opening her eyes and willing herself to focus. "I may be practically useless in the field," she said lowly, her voice a little breathy, "but there are things I can do that I haven't even shown you yet. Things that would blow your mind, Oliver." His fingers sort of skidded over her skin and the tweezers dropped to the concrete floor with a small clatter. He stared up at her in shock, his cheeks flushed and his mouth hanging open.
She shook her head. “Things I can do with a computer," she muttered, a little embarrassed. "Mind blowing computer things.”
His jaw clenched as he let her foot slip from his hands. He looked away, snatching the tweezers back up and then toying with them for a moment. She had the distinct impression he was trying to steady his own breath.
She tried again, but her brain was beginning to feel fuzzy. “I’ve been gathering information on Mirakuru from all over, Oliver. But it hasn’t been enough, I’ve been too careful. That’s my whole problem in general, right? Always so careful. Well, I took a risk today because I thought it was worth it. Not that I really thought it was a risk at the time. I was expecting some freaky loner guy who spent too much time reading conspiracy websites and combing through WikiLeaks. I definitely would have told you if I’d suspected he was some sort of hacker ninja. Next time I won’t be as naïve, trust me.”
Oliver gently picked up her foot again. “I do trust you. I probably only trust you. And Digg. I put my life in your hands whenever I walk out that door. You tell me to go somewhere or do something and I do it, I don’t even think about it. So I count on you, of all people, to always be honest with me.” He put some ointment over a gash on the ball of her foot and then covered it with a bandage.
She watched him as he worked. “I wasn’t hiding this from you on purpose, Oliver. I was just getting more information. That’s what I do, you know? It's kind of the whole reason I'm here to begin with. I thought I’d be coming back with good news for you. Maybe I thought I could be a little bit of a hero for once. Even without having all the muscles.”
He released her left foot. “The thing about heroes is that they get hurt, Felicity.” He stood up, and lifted his hand to cradle the undamaged side of her face, his thumb lightly stroking her cheek. “I can’t stand the idea of something happening to you,” he whispered and then his eyes widened with surprise as if he hadn’t meant to say anything like that to her.
“Nothing happened.”
His hand fell away and his body seemed to go rigid. “All this is nothing?” He asked angrily. “These cuts on your feet, the damage to your face, those bruises on your wrists? You were tied to a chair in a room with Mirakuru, just like Roy was when I found him. You could have been injected.”
Her breath hitched as she realized how much worse her day could have been. “But I wasn’t.”
“Because you got lucky. I should have been there to protect you.”
“I protected myself.”
His hands clenched at his sides. “No, you didn’t. Protecting yourself would have been making sure you weren’t in that position to begin with.” He ran a hand over her shoulder. “You have to promise me you won’t take a risk like this again.”
She folded her hands into her lap, taking in the purple marks that were growing darker on her pale skin. He was wrong. What she’d done had been worth it. She hadn’t come back with a cure, but now they had something they could analyze. It might be possible to make a cure. She looked up at him. “I won't do that. Today didn’t exactly work out, I know, and I’ll make sure you’re always in the loop about stuff like this, but if I have a chance to save Roy, or any of you, I’m going to take it.”
He took a few steps back from her, his arms extending out at his sides a little. “Then I don’t know if I can have you here.”
She hopped off the table too fast, her feet screaming at her as they hit the floor. The room seemed to bend and she grabbed the table for balance. “Don't say that.”
“It's the truth.”
She dragged her hand over her head angrily, feeling the bumps in her hair and realizing how messy her ponytail must have been. “You don’t get to make that decision.”
“I think that I do.”
“Well I think that you don’t,” she snapped. “Digg will have a vote and I think he’ll side with me. You make decisions everyday. Sometimes they work out and sometimes they don’t and we support you every time. We stand by you. You need to do the same for us.”
“I can’t do that if you’re just going to run around trying to get yourself killed.”
She was done with this nonsense. She threw her hands up in the air, but was a little surprised when they fell back down against her sides in a somewhat uncontrolled and heavy slap. “No one’s trying to do that! I am 100% not trying to do that. I like being alive, being alive is good, death is bad and not on my agenda, but you can’t prevent me from doing what I think is right. You’re not my father or my boyfriend and I’m not some star struck girl that’s head over heels in love with you and willing to take whatever crumbs you’ll throw my way. You don’t get the deciding vote on what I do with my life.”
He shot her a look indicating he totally thought he had that kind of power and she was too exhausted to react to it maturely. Her face and her feet were hurting her so badly and the medicine was taking the edge off, but it hadn’t come close to numbing everything yet. She wanted to crawl into bed and not come out for days, so if he wanted her gone she was happy to go. “Fine, if you say I can’t be here, I’ll find someone else that wants my help.”
He smiled wryly. “Like who?”
“There’s always that bat guy in Gotham. I bet he could use a friend.”
Oliver’s jaw clenched. “You don’t even know who he is.”
“Well, with what I know about vigilantes, he’s most likely a billionaire and a jackass. The list of possibilities can’t be too long.” They stared at each other, neither willing to back down.
“Fine," he said coldly. “If that’s what you want to do then I can’t stop you.”
She shook her head angrily, which caused the room to sway a bit. She planted her hand on the table’s edge as she waited for everything to stop moving. “It’s not what I want to do, Oliver, and you know it.” Her tongue felt thick in her mouth and it was getting harder to form the words she needed, her brain seemed slower and faster all at the same time. “I want to be part of this team, but you don’t get to use me whenever it’s convenient for you and set me aside when it gets to be too much. If you want to play that game, talk to your girlfriend. Although, I don’t think that’ll fly with her either, at least not anymore.”
Oliver’s eyes flashed with anger. “That’s a low blow.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say that.
“Sara and I are both aware of our past. We don’t need you throwing it in our faces.”
“I wasn’t trying to. Honestly, Oliver I didn’t mean that. It just came out wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so tired and everything really hurts.”
He nodded, but the anger was evident in the set of his shoulders. “I’ll get Digg to drive you home.”
“Oliver, please. I’m so sorry.”
He ignored her, grabbing a set of keys off his desk as he pulled out his phone to text Digg to meet them at the car. “Let’s go," he said, as he headed up the stairs. She followed him slowly, her body seeming to have trouble processing that she was trying to climb. When she finally got to the door he gave her a long look before punching in the alarm code. As soon as it beeped its acceptance he leaned down and swept her up off her feet.
The world tilted. “Whoa. What are you doing?”
“I just bandaged your feet.”
“I can walk to the car. This is weird. You’re mad at me,” she said sleepily, settling her arm around the back of his neck.
He pushed the door open and walked them out into the mostly deserted parking lot. Diggle and Sara were nowhere to be seen. “Yeah, well mad or not, you don’t have any shoes on.”
“You lived on an island for five years without shoes. I think I can survive a fifty foot walk.”
He looked straight ahead. “I had shoes.”
She frowned. “No, you told me you didn’t.”
"I wasn't being serious."
She was silent for a moment and then gasped loudly. “What about a shirt?”
The corners of his lips tugged up. “I had a shirt too. A few of them.”
"So on a deserted island you manage to stay dressed, but back here you just can’t keep your clothes on. That makes no sense.” She rested her head on his shoulder. Angry at her or not, he was nice and warm up against her in the cool night air. She could feel the muscle of his forearm under her thighs and knew it would be something she’d probably think about later. He felt so solid and safe that for a moment she couldn’t remember why she hadn’t just promised him what he wanted. The idea of Oliver always being around to protect her was not exactly unappealing and this would have been a much nicer experience if they were on better terms. She yawned and realized he hadn't laughed at her joke. “Are you still mad at me?”
He tilted his head, his voice sharper than she really thought it needed to be. “A little.”
“Is that why,” she asked, her words slurring a bit, as they reached the car, “you’re trying to ruin my fantasy of you on the island?” He sat her down carefully on the side of the hood, leaving her legs to dangle over the tire.
“What did you imagine?” He asked as he clicked the remote to unlock the locks.
”I don’t know,” she smiled goofily. “You in a loin cloth,” she started, her hand rising into the air and making an exaggerated swoop, “swinging around on some vines.”
His eyebrows inched up his forehead. “A loin cloth?”
“Hey, what can you do? At least I let you wear something.”
He laughed softly and then leaned against the hood next to her. He let his head fall back as he looked up at the sky for a minute. It was cloudy and grey, with no stars peeking through. She watched the clouds moving across it for a moment and thought of the sea in her dream. She shuddered.
“Felicity,” he began, “I know I can be overprotective, but I’m not trying to control you. I just want to keep you safe.” He crossed his arms over his chest and took a deep breath, letting his head drop back down. “You’re worth more than the rest of us,” he said quietly. “Do you understand?”
Her heart fluttered to life in her chest, beating so rapidly she thought it might strain. That was a crazy thing for him to say and completely untrue. She shook her head no.
He pushed off of the car and stood in front of her. “You’re one of the few bright spots in my life. I need you to be the one that comes out of all of this okay when it's done. The idea of something bad happening to you...it makes me wish I’d never been given your name.”
“Don’t say that,” she whispered.
His eyes locked onto hers and he licked his lips. "You'd be safer."
"S'ridiculous. There's no way you can know. What if all the crazy things that happened still happened but I didn’t know you? I'd have had my head blown off by a necklace bomb.” She giggled. “So embarrassing."
He shook his head. "That's not even not funny."
She started to slide off the hood of the car.
"Your feet-" he said, reaching out and catching her at the waist, not letting her down off the hood.
She looked up him. "I don't care about my feet."
He smiled, pushing her back. "I care about your feet."
She rolled her eyes as she settled again on the car. "Fine. I was going to hug you so just imagine it happened, okay?”
He nodded. "Okay."
“And listen Oliver. We’re both gonna come out of this okay. And so will Diggle. And Sara. And, well, everyone. In the whole world. Except the bad guys, obviously. They’re going down.” She reached out and playfully punched at his shoulder. “You still mad at me?”
“No," he smiled ruefully, stepping towards her. "I’m not still mad at you.” His hand reached out and cradled her unbruised cheek while his other hand skimmed over her ponytail. “I never seem to stay mad at you.”
Deep inside she was starting to feel warm, as if she’d settled into a hot bath. Everything had a very pleasant haze around it and she felt nice and soft and squishy. He leaned forward and kissed her lightly on the bruised cheek.
“Did you make it better?” She asked as he pulled back, her eyes wide and unfocussed.
He nodded. “Yeah. I think so.”
She smiled the smile of someone high as a kite. “Thanks.”
They sat there, in the cool night air, waiting for Diggle. “I’m tired. How far out is this perimeter thing anyway?” she asked.
“What?”
“They said they were going to check the perimeter, but it’s like how long does it take to walk around the building? A crazy long time, apparently.”
“Well, it’s a couple of blocks. It’s beyond our cameras. They’ll be back soon.”
She was about to nod when a woman's scream pierced through the air. Oliver went from relaxed to fully alert instantly, his eyes darting around, his shoulders back as he waited for there to be more information. There were a few seconds of silence and then Oliver’s name curled through the air on Sara's voice. He turned and ran towards the cry, leaping over car hoods and boxes and anything else that stood in the way of getting to her.
Felicity slid from the car, every bone in her body protesting, her feet slapping against the pavement painfully as she chased unsteadily after him.
She finally rounded the corner heading towards the main entrance of Verdant and found herself running straight into Oliver’s back. He threw his arm out, trying to keep her from going any further. She grabbed it to balance herself and then attempted to step to the side. He turned around quickly and gathered her against him. “Don’t look,” he pleaded, holding her head to his chest.
Her head was swimming. Digg, she thought, and her heart sank. She was going to be sick.
She pushed her arms against Oliver’s chest, trying to get away, but he didn’t move at all. “Felicity, you don’t want to see.” She pushed again and his arms went slack. She stepped away from him until she saw Sara kneeling on the ground looking helplessly at a lifeless body.
It wasn’t Digg. That was the only thought she had and she smiled until her brain caught up with her eyes. The body belonged to a boy. A boy in jeans and a red hoodie. Her stomach dropped.
Roy.
His handsome face had been marred by the arrow that had been shot through his eye. She watched his blood seeping into the pavement for a moment, the air around his body seeming to shimmer as his life ran out of him. It didn't seem real. She had the distinct feeling that she was looking at the scene through a tube or a tunnel. He was right there, but everything seemed so far away.
“There was a note,” Sara began.
Oliver’s voice was sharp and commanding. “Tell me.”
Sara unfolded a piece of paper, and Felicity watched as her fingers printed it with blood. Sara's voice trembled a little as she read. “This time I made the choice for you, kid.”
Oliver and Sara stared at each other as Diggle ran up. Felicity turned and almost fell against him, her arms wrapping around his middle as she pressed her face into his chest. Tears began to fall from her eyes, a combination of her sadness and also the shame of her relief that the body had been Roy and not Digg. Her friend had gone still when she locked onto him, but as he processed the scene, his hand began running up and down her back comfortingly.
“What happened?” Diggle asked roughly.
Oliver shook his head. “It can’t be.”
“It can’t be what?” Felicity asked.
Sara’s voice was raw and her eyes never left Oliver’s. “Slade.”
***