So, after watching the mid-season finale I was barraged with ideas that just wouldn't leave me alone so I thought I'd write them out. These ideas aren't based off of any sort of spoilers, they're just straight from my brain and what little I know about the comics and other DC characters. This is my first fic in the Arrow fandom, so I'm still grappling with writing the characters. Let me know if anyone seems glaringly off.
Obvious to say, I do not own Arrow or any of it's characters. I'm just using them to occupy myself until the series returns from it's winter hiatus. And the lyrics are from My Chemical Romance's "Famous Last Words"
Enjoy.
XoxoxoNelly
Now I know
That I can't make you stay
But where's your heart?
But where's your heart?
But where's your...
"I want you to train me."
Diggle's head shot up suddenly at the abrupt words, his eyes landing on Felicity briefly before flitting to the to-go coffee cup she had vehemently slammed down on his table. One edge of the lid had popped off the lip of the cup at the sudden force of impact. Diggle raised an eyebrow at the cup, and then directed the expression at Felicity who was biting her lip and fidgeting as she stared at the coffee cup, realizing the unintentional force she had used.
"You what?" Diggle asked, his voice level as he stared at his teammate unfaltering gaze.
Both of her hands wrapped tightly around her own coffee cup in front of her, and she sucked in a deep breath, opening her mouth to repeat her demand. Before she could utter the statement again Diggle held up his hand to stop her, "I heard you. I'm just..." he paused, "processing."
Felicity nodded mutely. She continued to remain silent for several moments, probably to give Diggle some time to process her request-slash-demand. Mostly because she wanted to prolong his rejection of her idea. How many times had she asked to be properly trained, only to have Oliver and Diggle shut down the idea before she could even argue the pros against the cons? They'd only ever settled on the most basic of self defense—solarplex, instep, nose, groin—or telling her to just wait for one of them. They basically had made her dependent on them and their help, which not only was a little chauvinistic and sexist but also just really stupid.
But now, now Oliver wasn't here for her to count on a dashing rescue. She was on her own.
Well, sort of, she had Diggle. But that was beside the point.
"Felicity," John began, saying her name slowly as he tried to produce the correct words to oppose whatever reasoning she had come up with to justify him training her.
"It's been forty-seven hours Digg. Something's gone wrong."
Diggle paused, his eyes falling to the coffee cup, which after a moment he took into his hand and took a long drink from. He stood, clearing his throat as he turned away from Felicity. He paced a few steps away from her, toward the salmon ladder and other gym equipment before he pivoted quickly to face Felicity again.
"We don't know," he started slowly.
"Diggle, if he had killed Ra's al Ghul, he'd be back by now. We'd be busting open a pinata that looked like Ra's al Ghul's face, throwing a 'congrats! You killed the demon! Party."
He couldn't argue with her claim and he pressed his mouth into a thin line in response. "I fail to see how that means you need me to start training you." Diggle held his arms out and raised his brows at Felicity.
"If Oliver is," she stopped short, her breath stuttering in her chest, she didn't need to finish the sentence, Diggle understood her perfectly, "then we have to honor his memory by continuing his mission."
"Which Roy and I can do." Diggle countered.
"But you'll need help."
"You're our tech, you watch our backs, Felicity, that is your talent."
"It's not my limit. I can do more, Diggle, I can be more. For Oliver, I-I can do this."
Her blue eyes were misty with unshed tears but they were determined. She had already decided this was the path she was taking. She was done sitting on the sidelines while the boys risked their lives nightly. She was done waiting for them to save her, depending on them to protect her when there was no way they could ever really guarantee her safety.
Diggle sighed, fingers squeezing the bridge of his nose. Part of him knew Oliver would hate him for agreeing to bring Felicity into this life, but another part of him knew how practical this was, that training Felicity to protect herself could only be a good thing.
Lifting his head he stared at the glass case that held the Arrow suit and he sighed.
"Five AM tomorrow, be here. Be ready."
~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~
The taste of blood was a sharp tang in his mouth as he opened his eyes to complete darkness. The pain was nearly unbearable, his sword wound was still seeping blood, leaching into the snow below him and dyeing it red. Shutting his eyes again, he wished for unconsciousness, he wished to die unaware of his death.
His limbs were completely numb, fingers most likely frostbitten. Each breath he took sent a searing, sharp stab of pain throughout his chest. Breathing out through his nose he squeezed his eyes shut, tensed his jaw and hoped for death to come.
But it didn't.
As he lay in the snow, thoughts of what would happen now flooded through his mind.
Thea would only have Merlyn left, she would lean on him, and he would continue to use her as a pawn to save his own skin. He would use her as a bargaining chip, a grunt to do his dirty work, and Oliver wouldn't be there to stop him or protect her.
Roy would have to rely on Digg and Felicity to help dissuade him from giving into his guilt and anger. Oliver had faith in them, but he knew that Roy identified with him on a level that Diggle and Felicity just did not reach.
Diggle would be torn between his obligation to Oliver's mission and his duty to Lyla and Sara. But he wouldn't let Roy and Felicity do anything stupid.
Felicity. Felicity.
He'd told her he loved her, and she was probably furious with him for how he'd presented such a relationship-altering confession, but he'd had to do it, because there was a chance he wouldn't return, that he'd never get to say it again. And that chance was quickly becoming a reality.
Oliver didn't know how long he'd been unconscious in the snow, but it had to have been hours since Ra's sent him over the cliff's edge. He was dying.
Suddenly, the darkness overtook him and he thought of nothing.
~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~
She was feeling leaner, and stronger and she hadn't touched the pint of mint chip in her freezer for the past thirteen days since Diggle had started training her (15 days since Oliver left to duel the Demon). She had been tempted multiple times, though. However, she fought off the urges to drown her sorrows with ice cream almost nightly, whenever thoughts of Oliver would invade her mind and drive her to tears and near hysteric panic attacks. And in the middle of the night when the nightmares of Oliver being through by swords, scythes, spears and arrows woke her up, she resisted the urge to gorge herself on ice cream once again. She fitfully laid in bed, never truly falling back asleep, fearing what the dark abyss of unconsciousness would bring.
So, even though she felt meaner and leaner, she was also feeling more hopeless with each passing day.
Normally, she was the hopeful member of Team Arrow, the eternal optimist, the light-bringer in their times of darkness. But this time, this instance, she was the pessimist, she was the Debbie Downer. She was thinking the worst, assuming disaster had struck and was enacting her contingency plan.
It was 5 AM, but Diggle was nowhere in sight. Instead, the foundry was eerily silent.
"Felicity Smoak."
Felicity spun on her taped feet—Diggle had been adamant about training her barefoot so she could feel the ground and her movements as she fought—to find Nyssa al Ghul standing just a few feet away, emerging from the shadows of the foundry and into the dim light cast by one of the ceiling lamps.
"Heir to the Demon." Felicity cocked her head to the side, looking and sounding way more intimidating than she truly felt as she faced the daughter of the man who had presumably killed the man she loved.
The connectedness of all the people in her life was so confusing.
Nyssa stalked forward, light on her feet like a cat, ever the assassin she was raised to be. She was flanked by two assassins, one who had the lower half of his face covered by a black cloth, the other kept his face unhidden, and Felicity could determine he was of Asian descent.
"I am here to give you the verdict of Oliver's trial." Nyssa said, stopping in her path, shoulders back, hands held still at her side, close to her daggers that hung like trophies from her belt.
Felicity lifted her chin, out of her periphery locating the closest weapon—a bo staff that Sara used to train with when she sparred with Oliver—how fitting. She wasn't expecting a fight from Nyssa, but you could never be sure when it came to the League—Ra's al Ghul's impatience had surfaced all too suddenly, there was no telling what Nyssa's next move could be.
"I have a feeling I already know what the verdict was." Felicity murmured, rolling her shoulders back, trying to keep up her confident countenance. She desperately wanted to fidget, chew her lip, tap her tablet, rotate her ankles, but she remained still instead. She didn't want to show any signs of weakness to Nyssa, or the other two League members present. Especially since she was alone.
"Oliver was found guilty of the murder of Ta-er al-Saher and punished accordingly by my father, the Head of the Demon, Ra's al Ghul."
"Spare me the prepared League of Assassins speeches. Just tell me he's dead." Felicity surprised herself with the brusqueness of her words, but decided to go with it. Not thinking about her words was keeping her from babbling as well as crumbling into a pile of brokenness.
If Nyssa was shocked by Felicity's abrasive speech she did not show it. She blinked slowly, before nodding once, "Oliver Queen is dead."
Felicity couldn't monitor her reaction this time, her hand lifted to her chest automatically, her hand falling over her heart, her brows furrowing, teeth clenching so tightly her jaw ached. A tortured sob escaped her throat as she forced the tears to stay behind her closed lids. She closed her eyes for several heartbeats, but was aware even without looking that Nyssa and the other two League members had not departed.
"Where is his body?" She asked. He deserved a proper burial, where those who loved him could mourn him and put him to rest.
Really, Felicity needed to see him one last time, to share the words she should've said before he left.
"His body could not be recovered."
Felicity opened her eyes at the new voice, it wasn't Nyssa who spoke, but the Asian man to her left. Felicity's blue eyes fell on him as a tear trailed down her cheek. Absently, she wiped away the tear with the side of her hand.
A pregnant pause fell between the four individuals for several moments. Felicity was trying not to imagine all the ways in which Oliver could've died where recovering his body would be impossible. It was proving a hard feat because her imagination was very, very imaginative. And vivid.
"Was it quick?" She asked, her voice just above a whisper but seemingly a booming declaration in the silent foundry with its cavernous ceilings.
"It was honorable."
Felicity's head turned to the side, knowing that Nyssa's avoidance of answering the true question meant Oliver had suffered. Probably a great deal. Her mind ran away with all the possibilities of his death again. Gruesome. Every image her mind conjured was worse than the one that preceded it.
"My father has no ill-will for your team or for Starling City now that Sara's murder has been dealt with justly. So long as you stay out of the League's matters, there shall be no reason for further interference from my father or any of his disciples." Nyssa's hands disappeared into the folds of her robe, before reappearing with a piece of parchment held between her fingers, "but if you are ever in need of speaking, use this to contact me."
Felicity's brows furrowed, that was such a strange offering from the woman. She opened her eyes to see Nyssa's back now facing her as the woman approached the shadows of the building once more. Her fellow League members were already turning to follow her, the Asian man's eyes leaving Felicity last, his gaze lingering in a way that didn't feel hostile, or friendly.
"You know he didn't kill Sara right? You know he would never kill her. He loved her." Felicity's jaw was set as she spoke the words, hoping that Nyssa didn't truly believe Oliver was the guilty party. Surely, Nyssa must know Oliver better than that, she must be aware that Oliver sacrificed himself for a good reason, but not because he killed Sara.
Nyssa paused, turning her head just enough to glance low over her shoulder, "As I said, if you ever need to contact me, you have the means."
Felicity understood now—if she ever discovered Sara's true murderer, she was to contact Nyssa so she could enact her revenge, to get her justice, outside the League's rules, or her Father's laws. Felicity swallowed, she would never be contacting the Demon's heir. She would never betray Oliver's memory by handing over his sister to the League. It was her job now to protect Thea, like Oliver would have.
But, she couldn't tell Nyssa all of that, so she just nodded.
"Goodbye, Felicity Smoak."
Before Felicity could utter her own goodbye there was a swishing of fabric and the foundry was empty.
Not a moment later, the the beeping of the door panel tore Felicity out of her stunned state and she turned around as the door was swung open, revealing Diggle jogging down the steps toward her.
"Sorry, Lyla got called in this morning so I had to stay with Sara until the sitter could get to our house." His brows furrowed as he sensed something off with Felicity, "are you alright?" He asked reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder.
"Oliver's dead."
~ x ~ o ~ x ~ o ~ x ~
He awakes gasping for breath, only to find water pouring into his mouth and down into his lungs. His eyes burn against the liquid as he attempts to turn his head. The liquid is different than water, thicker, and not clear but a tie-dyed mix of green and blue.
He looks up, there is light above him. He tries to move his arms to propel him upward, for a moment they comply, pinwheeling and moving him slightly. But soon exhaustion takes over his limbs, and his need for oxygen is a pressing necessity.
His line of sight is beginning to tinge with black at the edges and he knows he's about to lose consciousness.
The last thing he sees is Felicity, like always, she is there to greet him when he returns home.
And I know
There's nothing I can say
To change that part
To change that part
To change...
I'm thinking there will be three more parts to this, if it sounds like you guys want more. Review please xo