This was originally going to be the third chapter of my other story 'Survive' but it is better suited as a one-shot. Hope you guys enjoy. R&R
It was red.
The length of the blade, which teetered on the examination table, was washed in the blood of Oliver Queen. Each clang of steel on the table was another nail in the coffin of their hero. Malcolm Merlyn was talking but his words were not reaching them. All they'd heard:
"Oliver Queen is dead."
Roy's hands clenched in rage. No, not rage but pain. Both. The pain of losing the closest thing he had to family and rage toward the man who'd taken that from him.
Diggle had felt all of this before. It was just happening in a different order this time. Before, with Andy, it was the rage that came first, then the disbelief, then the pain. But this time the disbelief was the first. He couldn't imagine it…that he'd lost another brother.
Felicity went cold. She felt numb. Empty. She felt as though that blade had been plunged into her heart and drawn out with no mercy. She wanted to believe Malcolm was wrong, that Oliver would never lose. That he'd come back like he said he would.
"I'm sor…"
"Get out." Her voice was steady. Firm. Her gaze fixed on Merlyn, the same.
"I truly am…" This time it was Roy.
"She told you to get out." He had more control than he expected. Fist unclenched and breath steady.
"Very well." Malcolm made his way to the staircase and looked back to meet Diggle's eye. Diggle raised his chin slightly and cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing. Malcolm conceded and headed up the stairs. When he was gone, the strength they'd mustered fell away, all at once.
They said nothing. All they could do was stare. They stared at one another. They stared at the Arrow suit and at his bow. They stared at nothing. They stared at the blade that took their hero away from his city and from them.
It was red.
He held it in his hands as though it was in danger of leaving him too. More than anything he'd been given - his suit, his bow, his arrows – it made him feel closest to Oliver. Roy looked up from his hands. The Foundry was dark, the only source of light coming from the cases that held their suits. Red and Green. The Arrow and Arsenal. Roy only ever thought of himself as a hero when he stood next to The Arrow. What good is an arsenal with no one to wield its weaponry? What was he now? Just some stupid kid with nothing left.
No, he was left only with a request. A mission.
"Take care of Thea."
He looked back down to his hands. Amidst the havoc of Slade's takeover, his mirakuru overdose, and breaking up with Thea, Oliver gave him something to hold onto. He gave him something to be proud of, something he'd never been proud of: himself.
He pulled it out from the wreckage of The Foundry; A small, light box that did not properly represent that which lay inside it. No, that which was inside was weighty and significant. It was a symbol of trust from a man who trusted few. It was recognition of his strength and skills.
"A friend once told me that if you survive a crucible, you grow the stronger for it. This is to remind you of that."
The gift, which he held in his hands, was a reminder that crucibles come, and that they are something to be survived. And now, it was a reminder that he would survive this. He would protect Thea and everything that Oliver needed him to protect. Roy vowed to protect everything until the day Oliver came back. He held up his mask up to the light.
It was red.
The checkered pattern of the table stared back at John Diggle. It was 1:30am and the crowd in Big Belly Burger was mostly unruly teenagers and drunks looking to sober up. An order of chili cheese fries with jalapenos slide in front of him, ending his staring contest with the table. He finished them faster than he thought he would, considering he wasn't all that hungry. He pushed the basket away, filled with both cheese fries and regret. He wondered if Oliver felt this bad when he ate a batch of these.
Oliver.
He remembered the first time he sat across the table from Oliver Queen in this very booth. And not the Oliver Queen that partied too hard or slept around too much. He met the real Oliver Queen that day. The Hood, a man who was hell-bent on crossing names off of a list. Diggle remembered it as the first time Oliver told him the truth, and it was as chilling as the look in his eyes.
"We both made it to a life raft but there wasn't enough food and water for both of us so he shot himself in the head."
Although Diggle had his suspicions about Oliver being more than met his eye, it wasn't until that moment that he really saw Oliver for who he was. From then on, they'd spend plenty of time in this place. It was here he'd made Oliver truly laugh for the first time, as he fished for a jalapeno at the bottom of a french fry basket. Team Arrow had its first moments sitting in this booth, teasing one another and laughing as they planned to take down the Dodger. He'd bring Oliver here for a bite to eat and some tough love. When Oliver didn't know what to do they'd come here and they'd work it out.
But there was no "they" anymore. There was nothing to work out. Death cannot be fixed.
"Chili cheese fries with jalapenos? That's a cry for help if I've ever seen one." Lyla slid into the booth, a smirk on her face.
"Ha. You have no idea." Diggle flicked the basket lightly.
"Come on, Johnny. Let's go home." The smirk on her face was gone, replaced now by worry. Diggle leaned over the table and took Lyla's hands in his.
"I'll come home soon. I just need a few minutes." She eyed him, skeptically. "I promise. I love you, sweetie."
"I love you too." Lyla left the booth, hands slipping out of John's. He watched as she walked away and returned his gaze to the checkered table.
"You're gonna be a father; my risks can't be your risks. Diggle you have a life, a new life. It's a life that I can't have."
Oliver was right that night; he was right about Sara changing his life. But he was wrong too. Oliver's risks would always be his risks. It wasn't like Sara and Lyla were the only family that he had.
Oliver was a brother to him. They fought for one another and occasionally with one another. They laughed and mourned together. Since the beginning of this whole thing, it was the two of them. And if he had one fear in the midst of it all, it was this.
"John, I don't want to die down here."
It was as desperate, as honest, as he'd ever heard Oliver. Oliver wasn't the type to prioritize what he needed to be happy. It was the city, his family, and his friends that mattered. There wasn't time for Oliver Queen. His request strengthened Diggle's resolve to protect Oliver, to do what he'd always done: Save him.
"Not this time."
He slid out from the booth as his hand moved to his wallet. He placed a $10 bill on the table, his fingers lingering on the table. A tear fell from his face and fell onto the one of the squares on the checkered table.
It was red.
Felicity looked out the window from her office atop Palmer Technologies. The city was beautiful and teeming with life as couples headed to dinner, friends to the movies, and families to their homes. It seemed bizarre, such life in light of such a death. Felicity didn't want the sun to shine today. She wanted the clouds to blanket the sky, for rain to fall. She wanted the world to weep and recognize that she'd lost someone.
She let her head fall against the window, a small thud echoing through her office. This window was slightly different than the rest. It'd been replaced, not once but twice. The first when her and Oliver avoided gunfire from the Hood Copycats by jumping out of a building only to crash into it again 3 floors below. And then again when Oliver buried 3 arrows into the chest the Count, saving Felicity from a probably painful overdose on Vertigo.
"He had you and he was going to hurt you. There was no choice to make."
That was Oliver problem. He had no choices to make. He had to be the Arrow. He had to save her. He had to go and fight Ra's Al Ghul. He had to let go of Oliver Queen. There was no choice to make.
She hated that. She hated this. She hated that Roy was still suiting up. That Diggle was helping him. That Laurel was being so strong. That Thea didn't know. That Ray was so hopeful. That she wasn't.
She walked over to her desk and plopped down into her chair, clutching the edge of her desk to keep herself from rolling away. Her phone began to buzz and she hit the ignore button before she even read the name on the screen. It was Diggle. Or Roy. Or Laurel. Or her mother. And she didn't want to talk to any of them. She didn't want their comfort or their judgment. She didn't want their names popping up on her screen. She wanted it to be his. She wanted to hear his voice saying her name.
"You will always be my girl, Felicity."
She grabbed the only picture frame in her entire office, a family photo of sorts. When Felicity moved back into her office, Oliver had brought it by as an office-warming gift, which was nice considering the way in which she acquired said office. It was a picture of John, Roy, Felicity and Oliver. Felicity and Roy were in the middle sitting on the bar of Verdant with Oliver and Diggle sitting on stools to each side of them. Felicity had just said something terribly stupid and embarrassing, which was evident by her hand being plastered to her forehead and a blush that was creeping up her face. Roy was leaning forward over the bar laughing, eyes shut tight. Next to Roy, Diggle wore an unsurprised yet amused grin on his face. Oliver was leaning back in his chair laughing, one hand pressed firmly to his chest. This picture always made Felicity smile. But not today. Today it made her hurt.
"If you ever need to tell someone about your day, you can tell me."
"Fine!" Felicity put down the picture and grabbed the glass of wine sitting on her desk and took a drink, "Let me tell you about my day."
"Today, I found out that you're dead," she said matter-of-factly. "And I had to find out from the devil himself, Malcolm freaking Merlyn." Felicity pushed herself away from her desk and spun around in her chair, looking to the ceiling.
"I let myself believe that he was lying, like he always does. But then I tested the blood on the sword and it was your blood. You're dead, but I'm still here talking to you like you're not. Talking like we always do." Felicity paused, rolled back to her desk and placed the wine glass down before she continued.
"Today, I sent out an order for a new batch of arrow shafts. I spent 2 hours looking at broad-head sharpeners, not because I know what they are, but because you mentioned you needed a new one. I made Roy get the bar from the top of the salmon ladder because you hate it when he leaves it up there." Tears began to roll down her face and her voice became quieter, but she kept going.
"I watered the fern for the first time since you always do that. I don't want it to die while you're gone. You'd be upset if it died. So, I'll take care of it. She took off her glasses and wiped the tears from her face, her sniffles echoing in the large, empty office. After a moment, Felicity let out a steady breath that betrayed all her feelings.
"I'll come back."
Felicity stood up and grabbed the Hanukkah present Oliver had left on her desk. She was surprised, to say the least, that he'd remember such a trivial thing in the midst of everything that was happening with Thea and the League. She didn't imagine he'd get her a present.
She had walked into her office, barely holding it together, only to see a tall black box with a silver ribbon wrapped around it. A small note sat atop that box which read: I believe we had a deal. Felicity carefully unwrapped the present and couldn't do anything but laugh at it's content:
One bottle of Lafite Rothschild 1982.
He'd remembered their little deal and he'd come through on his promise. It wasn't the first time. Felicity hoped it would not be the last.
"If it's you who's asking, then I'll do it."
She grabbed her glass and headed back over to the window. She looked out over Starling City and thought of Oliver. She thought of all he'd done for the city, for his family, for his friends, and for her. She leaned her head against the window and felt the warmth of the sun as it began to sink behind buildings.
"And you know how I feel about her."
She couldn't help but smile at the thought. Felicity smiled. And she resolved that, if she'd do anything, it'd be smile in his memory. Because that's the thing she loved the most about him. His smile was so rare but so genuine. The last time she saw him, he was smiling.
"I love you."
Smiling, she put the glass of wine on the windowsill, the sun bringing its color to life.
It was red.
Thank you for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed this! It was super fun to write. :)