A/N: I meant for this to be a one shot for Halloween *sigh*, but it became a monster that is just too long for me to subject people to without some sort of breaks so it's now a multi chapter. I apologize for any mistakes. Hope you enjoy it anyway!

Warning: Graphic violence because, yeah, it's a Purge AU.

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1 Hour Until The Annual Purge

Felicity felt fear burst in her chest along with the tire of her Mini Cooper.

Screeching to a halt on the side of the road, she checked the clock on the dash. 6:03 p.m. Okay. She still had almost an hour. She could do this. She just needed to change the tire and get home. Easy.

Twenty-five minutes and a whole lot of expletives later, Felicity decided it wasn't that easy. She was a fracking genius, but she couldn't change a tire? She didn't care that her heart was pounding in her chest, the adrenaline pumping through her system causing her hands to shake. She was a capable person who could do this!

Only she couldn't. She only had half an hour to get home now and she couldn't waste anymore time on the damn tire. Getting caught in the Glades during the Purge was a death sentence. She needed to get home, lock up and hope that her makeshift defenses would be enough to keep her safe through the night.

She climbed back into the driver's seat, pulling the door closed and starting up the engine. The car lurched forward when she stepped on the gas, jarring her every time the flat tire made a complete rotation as she crawled along the curb. Every time she tried to pick up speed the wheel would wrench to the right, trying to pull her up onto the sidewalk.

"Goddammit!" she cried after a few minutes of fighting with the flat from hell. She punched her steering wheel twice, feeling the panic rise up into her throat. She was going to throw up. She was definitely going to throw up.

The clock read 6:37 p.m. now, the sun already dropping low behind the buildings. She had no choice. She needed to get off the street. Now. Before it got any darker.

Hopping out of the car, Felicity grabbed her purse and her keys, making sure to tuck the pointy edge of her car key between her fingers just in case. It wasn't much of a weapon, but she wouldn't hesitate to use it if someone approached her. She should have taken that gun her mother had tried to give her a few months ago for Hanukkah…

She'd made it a few blocks before she started seeing the people in masks; baseball bats, machetes and even a machine gun or two in hand as they wandered menacingly through the abandoned streets. Well, abandoned except for Felicity who was the only person in the city stupid enough to be out so close to curfew.

She'd just needed to stop at Tech Village after work for one part. Just one little processor that would hopefully help keep her security system locked down tightly. She should have done it yesterday! Except she'd stayed late at work to help make sure Queen Consolidated would be impenetrable. So now the Fortune 500 company she worked for was locked down to hackers and Purgers alike and she was going to be beaten to death by a baseball bat in the middle of the Glades. And that was if she was lucky! If Felicity survived this she desperately needed to get her priorities in order.

She was keeping her panic in check until one of the masked men whistled at her. Felicity hurried along, managing to make it another couple of blocks before she realized the man was following her. He weaved back and forth on the opposite sidewalk, dragging his machete along the concrete with a metallic hiss. He was wearing a clown mask and Felicity silently prayed to any god that would listen that she had enough time to make it back to her house before 7 p.m., but she knew she didn't. She had minutes left, at most, before someone—probably this man—came after her.

Silent tears dripped down her face as she started to run, the man in the clown mask laughing behind her.

"Run, sweetheart, run. I'll still catch you." His voice was muffled and indistinct behind his mask, but Felicity could hear the sick amusement in his tone. If he caught her she wouldn't die quickly. She knew that already.

As soon as she could, she ducked down a side street that would let out closer to her place. It was still a fifteen minute walk, but she could make it. It would be close, but she could do it. She could. The people in her neighborhood seemed nice enough, not like the kind of people who would purge. If she could just get close enough she was sure she'd be alright.

When the siren rang out several minutes later, announcing the commencement of the annual Purge, Felicity's tears began in earnest. She wiped at them, trying to get herself under control. She needed a level head if she had any hope of making it home tonight.

She'd managed to pull herself together by the time she got to her neighborhood. Thankfully she'd been able to lose the man in the mask and hadn't run into anyone else. She was still two blocks away, but she was there, she was right there—

The sound of gunfire erupted nearby and Felicity dove to the ground, scraping her palms when she tried to catch herself. Her purse spilled out onto the sidewalk and Felicity abandoned it, gripping her keys tightly as she pushed herself to her feet, ready to run the remaining distance.

"Hello, sweetheart."

It was her only warning before she was pushed back to the ground.

She cried, rolling onto her back and kicking out at the clown, hoping to connect to his crotch. Instead her flat glanced off his thigh and fell from her foot. The man in the mask laughed, swiping her other foot out of his way. He leaned closer, pointing at her with his machete.

"You be a good girl, sweetheart, and I won't make it too painful. Just relax."

Blindly reaching back, she grabbed her purse and swung it desperately. Whatever he had planned, she'd be damned if she was going to go down without a fight. She managed to catch him in his mask, knocking it askew. Taking the opportunity, she scurried backwards while he tried to right it.

"You bitch!" he screamed, getting his mask back in place enough to see. Felicity heard gunshots in the distance, could already smell smoke in the air. She saw the man in the clown mask raise his machete, poised to strike her down.

BAM. BAM BAM.

The man in the mask flinched, his grip on the machete loosening until it slipped from his fingers. She watched him fall to his knees, blood beginning to bloom from three spots on his chest.

"Ma'am? Ma'am!"

Felicity quickly sat up, pulling her legs closer to her to keep the man's body from crushing them. He dropped to the ground barely a foot from her, a deep crimson puddle already pooling beneath him.

"Ma'am? Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

It wasn't until a tall black man stepped into her line of vision that she realized someone had been speaking to her. She flinched away and the man put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. That's when she noticed the gun still gripped between his palm and forefinger.

"You killed him," she said softly, but it was enough for him to hear her.

"He was about to kill you. I think I made the right choice."

The man's voice was quiet and calm, even in the middle of all of the madness going on around them. More gunshots sounded from close by and yelling. Lots of yelling. Screaming. The man's calm voice, in the middle of all the noise, made her want to latch on to him and never let go, even though she knew how terrible an idea that was tonight of all nights.

"I'm not going to hurt you, okay?" The man's eyes darted around to their surroundings. "But you can't stay out here. It isn't safe."

"I live right over there." Felicity gestured behind her, in the general direction of her apartment.

"Is it safe?" the man asked, glancing to where she'd pointed.

"Safer than out here," she said, crawling forward and scraping up the spilled contents of her purse before retrieving her flat. She stood, putting her back against the wall as she watched the man who'd killed someone for her.

Or maybe he'd just killed someone to kill someone and saving her was a happy coincidence. Maybe he would kill her too. Maybe he would hurt her in other ways. There were so many ways to hurt someone on Purge night, the least awful of which was death.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the man repeated. "Let me make sure you get home, okay? Or, better yet, let me take you with me."

The fear that blossomed in her gut at that must have shown on her face, because the man took a large step back, putting his hands back into the air.

"I didn't mean it like that. I just meant that I'm going to a safe house," he explained quickly. "A real one. No one can get in that isn't specifically invited. I can get you in. You'll be safe until morning."

Felicity swallowed roughly, trying not to calculate just how close the screams were that were echoing through the falling darkness. A real safe room sounded like a dream come true on Purge night, but she wasn't sure she could trust it. She didn't know this man and she wasn't naive. She knew about the human trafficking that happened during the Purge and a small blonde, alone and out on the street past 7 p.m., was the perfect target.

"My apartment has security," she said, though she knew it wasn't the same as a safe house. She could never afford the kind of defenses that would truly keep her safe during the night. The reason she'd gotten the apartment so cheap in the first place was because the man that'd lived there before her was kidnapped during last year's Purge, right out of the building. She'd heard the neighbors talking about it.

The man nodded, taking another step back, and Felicity finally noticed the black town car sitting beside the curb. The driver's door was hanging wide open, from when he must have jumped out to save her from being hacked into teeny tiny pieces. A shiver ran down Felicity's spine at the thought and she closed her eyes so she wouldn't look down at the dead man lying at her feet.

"Look, I get it. You don't know me and tonight isn't exactly the night to go around making new friends." She blinked up at him, her lips pulling up at the corners. It definitely was not the night to be making friends, but something in her gut told her this man could be a friend. On any other day she wouldn't hesitate to trust his kind eyes, steady tone and calm demeanor. "But it's not safe here and I have an in at one of the most secure places in Starling City," he continued. "If you want to go home, I'll make sure you get there and then I'll leave, but if you trust me, I'll trust you. And we can both make it through this night together."

Felicity was scared. She couldn't help it, she'd be an idiot not to be sacred. But she didn't feel that spark of adrenaline beating through her veins when this man spoke to her. She didn't know why that was, but her instinct had never steered her wrong before.

"Where is this place?" she asked, gripping her purse tightly in her hands.

"The Merlyn Mansion," he said causing Felicity to blink in surprise. "My name is John Diggle and I work for the Queens. They're spending the night at the Merlyn residence with about twenty other people, plus security and staff. They have for as many years as I've worked for them and it's always been safe."

The Merlyn Mansion. It would be heavily secured and completely locked down the way John said it would. And the Queen family was pretty anti-Purge, from what Felicity knew. Moira Queen was currently running for mayor, one of her campaign promises being community safe houses for anyone who didn't want to participate in the Purge. She was getting a lot of flack for it, but Felicity was thinking of voting for her just on that issue alone.

The man, John Diggle, threw her a smirk and added, "They always have great food at these things if that's a selling point."

"Can we go to my place first?" she asked. "I'd rather stay there unless…"

John nodded, knowing what she meant. She'd rather stay there unless she couldn't stay there. "Of course," he replied.

Felicity wasn't sure if she'd live to regret the decision, but she nodded, following after him as he gestured for her to hop into the passenger seat of his car.

"It's just two blocks up on Ventura," she said, motioning for him to drive straight.

"Here," he said gently as he pulled away from the curb. Felicity glanced down to see him holding out a handkerchief. At her look he smiled kindly. "You have some blood—" he gestured to his face "—from when I shot him. There's a bottle of water in the glovebox if you want to use that."

Felicity nodded, taking the handkerchief and tugging open the glove box to find a brand new bottle of spring water.

"Thank you," she said softly, tipping some out onto the cloth and then flipping down the visor to see the blood splattered across the right side of her face. "I'm Felicity, by the way. Felicity Smoak."

"John Diggle," he said again, this time holding out a hand for her to shake. She only hesitated a small second before she did. "But my friends call me Dig."

"Thank you, Dig," she said, leaning back in the soft leather seat.

It only took three minutes to get to her place. It took her less than three seconds to see that getting into her place was going to be a problem.

There were about fifteen people gathered in a loose circle at the end of the block. In the middle, two men stood facing each other, waving swords around like they were play fighting. Only the swords were real and the damage they caused was too.

One of the men drew back his sword, the blade slicing through the air and into his competitor's throat like it was butter. Blood splattered the face and chest of the winner and he lifted his sword again, this time in victory as the crowed cheered. Felicity glanced away and found Dig with a hard look in his eyes as he looked past her towards the gruesome scene.

"You're not staying there," he said, turning back to the road ahead and driving right past her block. "No way."

Felicity couldn't bring herself to disagree. Not after what she'd just seen. It felt surreal, even with all the horrors she'd seen during past Purges. Men and women she'd spoken to before, cutting each other down in the street as if it were a game. How was she supposed to go home knowing that was happening outside? How was she supposed to distract herself from the fear that she could be next?

This would be the first Purge night she spent completely alone. She'd spent past Purges with her mom or her ex in college, but this year she had no one to trust in this new city of unfamiliar faces. And then this man, who'd been nothing but kind to her, comes out of nowhere, saves her life and offers her sanctuary… All she had at her place were two steel bars on the door and a panel covering the windows. She had cameras set up, a few technological deterrents and a hidey hole she'd created in her closet just in case, but no real security. And definitely no one to help her should the Fight Club decide they wanted more of a challenge.

"Okay," she whispered, trying not to stare out the window as they drove. Men and women, in and out of masks, firing weapons at each other. Bloody corpses littering the streets. She'd seen it all at one point or another. She wished she could stop seeing it.

"Don't worry," Dig said, tapping on the windshield as they drove past a group of men firing machine guns at parked cars. "Bullet proof glass. We're safe in here. We'll be even safer soon enough, I promise."

She nodded again, leaning back and closing her eyes. Sometimes, on Purge night, decisions had to be made. She just hoped she'd made the right one tonight.