Set after the season finale of season one. Please take a chance on me and read this story. Hopefully, I do not disappoint anyone and if I do I am sorry. Enjoy! (:
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Felicity sat in the basement of Verdant hugging her knees tightly to her chest as her world literally fell to pieces around her. Tears streamed down her face as she sat alone while cement and light fixtures crashed from the ceiling. She felt the earthquake cease and took a deep breath before opening her previously tightly shut eyes. Her eyes surveyed the damage and she was heartbroken to find her computers were in pieces and most of the floor covered in debris. Help, she needed help, that was the first thought in her head which was soon followed by worrying about what the rest of The Glades looked like. Worriedly, she tried to contact Oliver with her earpiece but found him not responding. Next she tried Diggle and felt her worries temporarily subside when he said that Malcolm Merlyn, the Dark Archer, and all around psycho douche bag, was dead.
"Diggle, are you alright? Have you heard from Oliver?" Felicity asked trying to sound less worried than she was.
"The last I saw of him, he was on his way to go save Laurel and I'm fine a few bumps and bruises and possible a bullet wound." Diggle explained as he tried to stop the blood coming from his wounds by tying a tunicate.
"Oh", Felicity replied trying to cover her disappointment, "Well, be safe and get back here as soon as possible so that I can help fix you up." She answered.
Diggle could sense that something was extremely wrong with Felicity as her normally endearing babbling was nonexistent and the fear in her voice could be heard clearly no matter how hard she tried to hide it. He walked over to Malcolm's body and checked the pulse just to be absolutely positive that he was dead before he began his journey back to Verdant.
Felicity's hands shook and as she looked down at them she saw that they were covered in cuts from falling cement and glass. Laurel. It always came back to Laurel. No matter how flirtatious she was or how beautiful she dressed she would never compare to the legend that is Laurel Lance. She attempted again and again to contact Oliver but to no avail found a response. Where was he and why wasn't he responding? Her mind raced at the possibilities of where Oliver could be alternating between dead and alive. She wanted to scream except her mind told her it would be easier to cry and without a second thought she decided that she would not. She walked over to the bathroom and surveyed herself in the mirror finding cuts along her hands and arms as she had used those to protect her head. A heavy layer of dust covered her clothes and her glasses. She stripped out of her clothes and took a shower wiping away all of the blood and dirt as it swirled down the drain of the shower. She shut her eyes tightly as she poured hydrogen peroxide over her wounds to keep them from getting infections and then placed band aids and gauze on the ones it was required. As Felicity put on her clothes from her training sessions with Diggle, she heard footsteps coming down the stairs and voices begin to speak.
"Hey Diggle, have you heard from Oli-" She began to speak before being silenced by the somber look on Diggle's face and Oliver's tear streaked one.
"Who?" She asked Diggle not being able to finish the question as she watched Oliver remove his hood and place his bow and arrow into the crates.
"Tommy." Diggle responded feeling useless as he watched Oliver emotionlessly go into the bathroom to presumably shower and witnessed Felicity begin to tear up before gaining control over herself.
Taking a deep breathe she grabbed Diggle's hand and led him over to the couch. She had to be productive, no, she needed to be productive because if she stopped she would begin to think about Tommy who she had met on a few occasions and thought was nice. Or worse, she would try to figure out what was going through Oliver Queen's, aka the most complicated man alive, head. Oliver had lost his best friend and nothing anyone could do or say would make anything better. She grabbed the first aid kit and began to clean all of Diggle's wounds and then dressing them. Unlike before she had not become squeamish at the sight of blood but instead addressed it as a problem that needed to be fixed as she would with a virus in a computer. The bullet wound Diggle had suffered from luckily was a through and through and she was able to dress the wound. With twenty minutes she had dealt with all of Diggle's wounds and was helping him walk back up the stairs as he decided that he would go check on Thea and Carly, leaving her alone with a broken Oliver. Although it must have only been a few more minutes after Diggle left it felt like hours as she waited for Oliver to emerge from the bathroom. Moving silently he walked to the couch and sat down. Her palms began to sweat as her heart raced at the thought that she now had to deal with a side of Oliver she had never seen before. She had witnessed rage, disappointment, and bewilderment from him but never sadness. Not knowing what to do she walked over to the couch and sat patiently waiting for some idea of what he needed from her.
"Please just say something, anything really, I just need you to distract me." Oliver whispered as he looked at Felicity.
Felicity breathed a small sigh of relief before taking a deep breath. If he wanted her to babble, she would do it. She was exhausted and part of her hoped that he was too so once he fell asleep she could too.
"My full name is Felicity Megan Smoak. I am a Pisces. I never go to the gym because I pretty sure that my favorite meal of ice cream and wine is a healthy and well balanced meal. I know you think that I am naturally a blonde but I am not. I pierced my own ears on a dare when I was fifteen and I have one tattoo placed above my- ah nevermind. I don't talk to my family as much as they would like since I am usually otherwise occupied but they know that I love them. My parents are divorced thankfully seeing as they were a nightmare together and my older sister is a district attorney in another city I think is called Gotham or something like that. I love when we first met all of the elaborate lies you would come up with as it usually led to me doing something challenging. I use to lie awake at night thinking about you, that's not what I mean, I mean I used to lie awake thinking about why you had such strange requests whenever you came to my office. Most of the time I think without speaking which you obviously know as you have witnessed me put my foot into my mouth time and time again. Since childhood I have always been extremely talkative to the point where it is a defense mechanism like when I tried talking this guy who was convinced he was in love with me out of love with me by listing all of my negative qualities in order or bad to worse. I can't remember the last time I was in a relationship with someone let alone the last time I had good sex. It's not for a lack of trying but the type of guys that are usually attracted to me aren't necessarily the type that scream good in bed. I only have a few close friends outside of Diggle and you of course because I consider you a friend- more than a friend really, well actually not more than a friend really since our relationship is strictly platonic like the occasional thoughts I mentioned I had about you. I mean I guess if I am being completely honest you are like craazy observant so I know that you know that I have a crush on you but who wouldn't really since you have are the definition of sexy like in a dictionary next to the word sexy is a picture of your face. Ohmygosh I didn't mean to say any of that I swear." Felicity blushed bright red as she realized what she had said.
Exhaustion at this point had over taken her and her occasional mental filter had disappeared but she was pleased to find his eyes closed and his breathing rhythmic as he slept somewhat soundly except for the occasional twitching. She walked over to the cabinet located near the couch and grabbed two blankets. She placed one over Oliver and wrapped herself comfortably in one hoping that tomorrow would be better. It had to be better. Looking at Oliver, she thought about how he needed to be better because Sterling City no longer needed the Hood now that its number one resident evil villain, Malcolm Merlyn was dead, but it need Oliver Queen, a wealthy and emotionally damaged playboy.
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Thoughts? Please review and tell me if I should continue or not with the story. Thank you so much for reading! (: