Felicity watched the bus pull up to the front gate; the large, black doors swung open, each one being guarded by uniformed men. The bus continued its journey until it reached the check-in area. A flood of men, all different ages and nationalities, emerged from the bus. Their hands were locked in front of them via handcuffs, and they were being led inside by guards. Felicity exhaled. The blue Star City sky looked bright against the fluffy white clouds dancing inside it. The lush green grass from the yard contrasted well with the old, decaying brick of the exterior foundation of the building.
Felicity Smoak worked in a prison as a doctor, something that to most, quote-un-quote regular doctors, would be defined as "unconventional." She, however, loved it. The rush. The mystery. The thrill. This whole atmosphere, to her, was intriguing. She believed the intrigue stemmed from her need to help people, to try to fix their deep seated emotional issues. Her mother did not, in any way, shape or form, condone her daughter working in a penitentiary, especially one that was maximum security. It had been five years since Felicity had even uttered a word to her mother. Her father, on the other hand, left when Felicity was only eight. He never called, or sent money during her birthday or any holidays. It was like he completely vanished off the face of the earth. That only made her work harder at her job in the end.
"Did you see the new guys?" Her colleague, Sara Lance, entered the infirmary. Sara was the nurse, the one the inmates would go to if Felicity was unavailable, or just needed quick attention. Both ladies were good at what they did, and loved where they did it.
Felicity smiled. "Yes, but I didn't get a good look. Anyone interesting?"
Sara laughed. "I didn't get a good look either. Wait until we get their files." She wiggled her eyebrows, causing Felicity to laugh.
Both women heard the jingling of keys as Captain Quentin Lance, Sara's sometimes over-protective but wise father, emerged from the elevator, a large bin in hand. He smiled at the ladies as he entered the infirmary. Quentin and Sara's relationship was different, to say the least. Her father, who started his career at Iron Heights as just an average, run-of-the-mill correctional officer, started after Sara had already had her job at Iron Heights for over a year. She had gathered suspicions that her father just wanted to check up on his daughter.
"Special delivery for Ms. Smoak. Here are all the files of the new inmates. Good luck." He nodded towards his daughter before leaving, the other guards frozen in loyalty as he passed.
"Thanks, daddy dearest," Sara muttered under her breath.
Felicity smirked. "He just wants the best for you. It's hard for him, watching you deal with violent men everyday. Just like it's hard for you, seeing him do what he does."
Sara nodded. "I know, I know. Sometimes I just think the only reason he took this job was to keep an eye on me."
"He's a good captain, Sara. He's fair. Iron Heights hasn't had a captain like that in a long time."
They started sifting through the files; this new batch of inmates had some murderers, thieves, and crazy psychopaths. Sara started rummaging through the files. "Typical stuff," she uttered, briefly skimming over the inmate's life stories.
"What's this guy about?" Felicity reached into the bin, revealing a file. She opened the top flap. "Roy Harper. 20. Convicted of grand larceny. Sentence is five years. He has no medical conditions." She helped Felicity place the file in her filing cabinet.
Felicity and Sara went through the large, abundant box of files. Some of the inmates in particular caught their eyes:
"Slade Wilson. 35. Convicted for two counts of murder in the first degree. Sentenced to two life sentences without the possibility for parole. Wears an eyepatch over his right eye."
"Ray Palmer. 28. Convicted for money laundering. Sentenced to five years. Looks like someone you've dated before." Felicity flashed Sara a look.
"Listen to this one." Sara plastered a smirk on her delicate features. "Oliver Queen. 30. Convicted for armed robbery. Sentence is five years. It says he's a type one diabetic." Felicity penciled his name in her schedule, then added it onto her calendar in her computer. Sara removed the mug shot from his file, showing the photo to Felicity.
"Wait a minute. It says here his brother is Thomas Merlyn."
"Brother?" She grabbed the file from Sara, and read the contents. "Mr. Queen's parents died when he was young, so Thomas and his family took Oliver in. They adopted him into the family."
Felicity furrowed her brow and looked at the photo. He was an attractive man. His light brown hair was short and cropped, and he had a hint of stubble on his face.
"Thomas is a murderer. He's getting executed in a week…. Then his brother just miraculously shows up at the same penitentiary?"
Sara gave Felicity an inquisitive look. "I don't think there's any sort of conspiracy here, Fel. Queen just messed up, which is how he got here."
Felicity felt there was a veil of mystery surrounding Oliver Queen. "Don't go there," she thought. She always told herself to stop trying to fix these men and focus on her own issues, but that wish unfortunately never came to pass.
"He's cute. A lot of these guys are."
"So, basically, you're screwed." Sara leaned against her desk and crossed her arms, her white lab coat creasing.
The two exchanged laughs. "Hey, unlike someone, I'm not in a relationship. Regardless. I'm not going to start anything with these guys. Thinking some of them are cute is completely harmless."
Sara chuckled. "I'll tell Nyssa that. She won't be happy about not being able to hook you up with someone."
The infirmary was cascaded in light. White walls decorated the room. The cabinets, a brushed silver, sat against those walls, various medical supplies littering their insides. There were two medical beds, one slightly larger than the other, but both large enough to fit a rather large inmate. Two dark mahogany desks sat against one of the glass windows; Felicity's desk, which was only really ever cluttered with paperwork, sat against the wall closest to the door, while Sara's desk, which was much more decorated and lively (a picture of her longtime girlfriend Nyssa sat on her desk, as well as a photo of her and her father, with her older sister Laurel), sat on the wall adjacent. Both ladies worked countless hours a day making sure these men didn't kill each other, or themselves.
The familiar sound of jingling keys emerged from the hallway. John Diggle, Quentin's right hand man and one of Felicity's closest and oldest friends, stepped off the elevator, an inmate attached to his left hand. Felicity recognized the inmate as Oliver Queen, the one with the veil of mystery.
"Here's your first victim. Don't be too hard on him." Diggle flashed a smile Felicity's way.
"Sara, your father wants you. You're needed down in A wing. Some inmates have roughed each other up pretty bad."
"On it, Digg. Thanks." The two smiled towards each other, before setting foot in the hallway.
Felicity ushered for Oliver to make his way towards the medical bed. She retrieved his file, along with medical supplies, including an insulin known as Humalog, a glucose meter, and a syringe. "Mr. Queen. Welcome to Iron Heights." She rolled her chair back towards him.
"I read in your file that you're a type one diabetic. How long has it been?"
Oliver rolled up his sleeve, revealing a set of tattoos. "Since I was a kid," he nonchalantly eased out, without any form of effort. Felicity, for a split second, found herself getting lost in his light blue eyes.
"Finger." Oliver outstretched his pointer finger; she found the tip to be calloused, and rough. Felicity continued speaking. "I take it getting a tattoo was no issue, considering you have no problem with needles?"
He let out a low chuckle. "You say that like you know me, Doctor…." He glanced quickly at her name tag. "Smoak…"
"Pardon me for asking this, Oliver, but it says in your file your brother is Thomas Merlyn. Does that have anything to do with why you're sitting here, right now?"
A long stretch of silence formed between them. It felt hours long, while it only last a couple seconds. Oliver felt slightly taken aback by the question, but he played it off with ease.
"I'm here because I screwed up. I'm determined to right my wrongs. That's why I'm here." They shared a glance before Oliver continued. "The jury felt that since my brother is scheduled to die in a week, they would allow me to be incarcerated where he is, until his time comes."
Felicity finished administering the insulin. "You're all set."
Oliver slowly rose from his seat, rolling up his sleeve at an almost snail's pace. He stopped in the doorway. "How come you were wondering about my brother?"
She was almost expecting this. She wheeled back to her desk before speaking. "I just try to get to know my patients as best I can. That way it's easier to form a professional, and respectful relationship. Nothing more."
Oliver flashed a thoughtful smile before being escorted back to general population by a black-suited guard.
Felicity, her heart, for some reason, pounding fast, opened up Oliver's file yet again. "Something's off here," she thought to herself.
Felicity came to the realization that Oliver Queen was just yet another mystery not wanting to be solved (at least for now).