Felicity hated hospitals.
It wasn't for the reasons people normally hate them, either – the smell of antiseptic, the fact that those walls, no matter what colour they were painted, seemed inescapably cold and clinical, or the sound of machines beeping and lives ending. No, what bothered her was all the things she had experienced right there, in Starling General.
She had come here a couple of times to visit Lance when he was recovering from his collapse. (Of course, that was before, when he had been an ally to the Arrow, and not the person calling for his arrest.) The hospital had also been where she'd seen John become a father – it had been where Oliver had kissed her, for the first and last time. Being there only reminded her of the pain of tugging his hands away from where they had framed her face and walking away from him.
And now there was Ray – a man that should have been so good for her, so perfectly matched for her that she could not for the life of her get why his declaration that he loved her had left her so mortified.
Well. Maybe she was lying to herself just a little. Or she was avoiding the truth - that was, until her mother had spelled it out for her. That would be another memory that would come back to her the next time she was in a hospital: Donna Smoak, telling her she was in love with a man that Donna herself had barely met. That she had to make a choice.
Felicity didn't know what to do. After imparting that particular nugget of wisdom, Donna had got up, smoothed down her yellow dress and said something about going to the little blondes' room, and now, Felicity was sitting alone outside the room where Ray was, trying to figure out what the hell was going on in her head.
She had to make a choice. That was what her mother had said. The trouble was, considering one of them was wanted for murder right now, it was highly unlikely that her choice would actually mean anything.
Felicity got to her feet. Before even thinking about what she was doing, she was already at the door to Ray's room.
"Hey," she said as she shut the door behind her. She tried smiling, but it was futile. Ray opened his mouth as if to say something, but at that moment (and - secretly, to Felicity's relief), Felicity's phone rang from the bedside cabinet. "Sorry," she said, walking over and reaching for it, "one second."
It was Laurel. "Felicity, Oliver's turned himself in," she said.
"Wh-what?" said Felicity, her hand automatically clapping over her mouth. "What do you mean, he –?"
"He wants to cut a deal with the DA, make sure they can't touch you guys," Laurel said, clearly speaking as quickly as she could. "He literally just walked into the precinct and I just talked to him."
"Oh my God," she said, closing her eyes. "Okay. I'll try and talk him out of it."
There was silence on the other end of the phone for several seconds. "I'll see what I can do, Felicity, but – he seems to have made up his mind."
"Not this time," Felicity said firmly. "Talk soon, Laurel."
"Yeah."
She hung up and looked up at Ray.
"Oliver?" he guessed.
"He turned himself in," she said, only now realising how close to tears she was. "Lance basically told the whole city he's the Arrow, and he's giving himself up to protect all of us."
"I saw on the news," Ray said. He was silent, as if contemplating something.
"You don't still think he was behind these attacks, do you?" she said slowly.
Ray shook his head vigorously. "God, no. Whoever it was aimed at you. Even if Oliver hadn't proved his innocence to me before, I know for a fact that he would never hurt his partner."
Felicity reached out and squeezed his hand. "Good to know."
"You should go," he said.
"Are you sure?" she asked, surprised.
"Oliver needs you right now."
"Will you be okay, though?"
"Felicity," he said, meeting her eyes properly for the first time since she entered the room, "you've already saved my life. Go see if you can save his. His life as a free man, that is."
She smiled weakly. "Thank you," she said, and she kissed his cheek. For a moment, Felicity wondered if she should bring up what he said, but there was too much going on right now for her to even think about it.
"You've followed me this far. All of you have followed me this far. But I need you to follow me just a little further… until it's over."
Felicity could not believe what she was hearing. She found herself taking off her glasses, her nervousness making it difficult for her to fold them up and hold them in her hand.
"Guys, give us a minute, please," she said quietly. She looked up at John, then at Roy, and finally at Laurel waiting outside. Both men nodded, glancing again at Oliver – the man the team had considered their leader, even in his supposed death – before leaving the room.
"Felicity, I know what you're thinking," he said, the moment the door clicked shut.
"Do you?" she said, sitting down shakily. Her knees bumped against Oliver's under the table and before she even realised what she was doing, she was prying apart Oliver's hands and fitting one of hers between them. "Oliver, you can't do this."
"Is Ray okay?" he asked.
"Ray's fine," she said quickly, "and he's going to make a full recovery. Please don't change the subject."
"You should be with him."
"That is exactly what Ray told me," Felicity said, "about you. Seems like I have a type."
"Felicity…" he said softly, and she closed her eyes, wondering why, when he said her name, it sometimes sounded like a prayer. His hands were cold, rough, but she could feel his thumb gently rubbing circles on her palm. "Do you trust me?"
"I remember the last time you asked me that," she said, her eyes fixed on their hands. "You took me on your motorbike to your mansion."
"Right before I put you in the crosshairs of one of the most dangerous men I've ever known," he finished. "Something I promised myself I would never let happen again – but I did. With Hogue, with Brother Eye, Zytle, and now…"
"That is not true," she said firmly.
"It is. If I hadn't dragged you into all of this –"
"You didn't drag me –"
"– you wouldn't be sitting here right now. I let you down, Felicity, so many times, but I'm not going to this time. You'll get to live your life, be happy –"
"Hey!" she interrupted, and without thinking, her hand was on his cheek. "You have not let me down – not me, not John, not Roy. All you have done is try to save people."
"I couldn't save Sara," he said hopelessly. He looked up, into her eyes. "Or the mayor. Or the other people Maseo's killed. But I can save you."
"Oliver, I get it," Felicity told him, fingers still brushing against stubble. "You're a hero. You save people. It's what you do. But for once, just this once, Oliver, please, just… let me – let us – save you."
He chuckled weakly. "You already have, more than enough times."
"I trust you," she said, "of course I do, but there has to be another way."
His hands were in cuffs, but that didn't stop him reaching up and gently removing hers from his face. She could feel the cold metal scrape against her skin as he shook his head. "There isn't. I need you to promise me…"
Just then, however, Captain Lance came in. "Time's up, Miss Smoak," he said curtly.
Felicity ignored him. "Promise me what?"
"That you won't try busting me out. That you'll stand down."
"I said time's up," Lance said again, louder this time.
She shook her head. "I can't promise you that."
"Felicity," he pleaded. "Promise me."
Just as Lance looked like he was going to kick her out himself, Felicity got to her feet. She crossed her fingers behind her back as she nodded, saying, "I promise."