Title: No One Else
Author: some1lostme
Rating: K
Summary: Felicity and Oliver share an experience that no one else can understand. He is the only one who knows what she's been through and she now has a much more intimate understanding of what exactly he survived on the island.
Spoilers: 2x09 "Three Ghosts"
Disclaimer: Of course, I don't own Arrow or any of these characters. I'm just borrowing them and promise to return them unharmed.
Chapter One
It takes longer than he's comfortable with for them to find her. In fact, it takes twelve hours, seventeen minutes and forty-one seconds. He knows because he was counting. He was counting and dying a little at each minute that passed.
It was his fault she was taken. It was always his fault. He never should've brought her into this. He should've let her leave. But he was selfish. He had needed her help. He'd needed her brain. Felicity was his friend, his partner in this whole vigilante charade that he'd started and, not for the first time, his crusade had put her in danger.
His heart had stopped beating in the hours that it had taken for them to track her down. Actually, it had been Diggle who'd finally located her. He'd been rendered useless by his fear and hadn't been able to do much in the way of finding his friend.
When they do finally find her, his heart breaks even further. She is chained up in an abandoned warehouse near the docks. Her lithe body is stretched, her hands cuffed above her head, her toes barely touching the floor. She is exposed, her body bare except for her lingerie, and she looks so small hanging there, limp and bleeding.
It's obvious what torture has been inflicted on her. He can see the lash lines that have broken her porcelain skin. His stomach revolts when he hears her voice, weak and cracking, as she pleads with her attacker to leave her alone. And then he hears his name tumble from her lips. Rage seizes him, bringing him back to himself.
The man standing beside Felicity, the man administering this torture, raises his arm as if he is going to strike her again and Oliver lets loose his first arrow. It cuts through the air and pierces its target before another blow can touch her. The man drops to the ground, his life taken from him before he even knows what's happening.
Felicity gasps in surprise, lifting her head slowly to look for him. When their eyes meet, it takes everything in him not to go to her. He needs to keep his head on straight. He has to find Slade and end this. He confirms with Diggle that the room is secure, waiting until the other man is there, helping Felicity free of her bonds and pulling her into his arms before he goes in search of his one-time friend.
He doesn't see her again until he arrives at the hospital. His search for Slade had been pointless because no matter how much he wanted to find him, he could only think of her. She would be damaged now. Damaged like him. He hated himself for that, for putting her in harm's way yet again. He hated himself because he knew that what she had experienced would change her. He didn't want Felicity to change, not at all.
"Diggle."
He finds his friend pacing in the waiting room at Starling City Memorial Hospital, worry etched in his features.
"She was unconscious by the time I got her here," he explains without further prompting, "Passed out from the pain would be my guess. Oliver, they beat her pretty damn close to death. Please tell me that you put an arrow in that son of a bitch."
He shakes his head, turning as a doctor comes into the room and calls Felicity's name. He and Digg approach the man, anxious for an update.
"Mr. Queen," the doctor's voice holds a hint of surprise, "You're here for Miss Smoak?"
"I am. How is she?"
The doctor glances down at the chart briefly and explains the extent of Felicity's injuries. Her back, from shoulder to hip, is covered in lacerations, some of them more severe than others. According to the doctor there are too many to count but Oliver knows that, when she's able, Felicity will be able to tell them exactly how many cuts there are. She will know exactly how many times she was struck. She will be able to recount the details of every blow just as he can. She will remember it all with terrifying clarity.
"Luckily there are no signs that she was sexually assaulted," the doctor says, "But she is dehydrated and in an extreme amount of pain. We're doing our best to remedy both."
Oliver's brain shuts down at the words sexually assaulted. He hadn't even considered the possibility. But Slade wasn't that cruel. No matter how much he hated Oliver, he would never have allowed anyone to do that to Felicity. At least that's what he had to believe.
"Can I see her?"
The doctor hesitates, "Typically we would only allow her family –"
"She has no family in the city," he interjects, "We're all she has. Please, I need to see her."
The doctor concedes but limits them to seeing her one at a time. Digg doesn't put up a fight. He simply clasps Oliver's shoulder briefly before crossing the room and taking a seat.
He follows the doctor down a long corridor. They come to a stop outside of a small exam room. The wall that looks out into the hall is all glass, a curtain pulled on the inside to protect the patient's privacy. His hands tighten to fists at his sides.
"I'd like her moved to a private room as soon as possible," he says firmly, "I don't care if she's in here for two days to two weeks, please just get her into another room."
The idea of Felicity being confined to this cramped space angers him. He doesn't want her waking up here. He doesn't want her waking up in the hospital at all but the time to prevent that has passed. He will do everything he can to make sure she's comfortable.
Without waiting for a response from her doctor, he enters her room and shuts the door quietly behind him. He pauses at the foot of her bed, unable to move as he takes in the sight before him. The large bed dwarfs the beautiful blonde lying there and it unnerves him. Her expressive blue are hidden from him as she is currently lying on her side, her face hidden by the curtain of her hair. The thin hospital blankets are pulled up to her waist, covering her legs and the lower half of her body, but he has a clear view of her back. The gap in the gown she wears allows him to see the angry red welts that now mar her flesh. The blood has been cleaned away and he can see that at least two of her injuries were sever enough that they required sutures. His stomach roils.
"Felicity?"
Her shoulders flinch at the sound of his voice. The reaction doesn't surprise him as much as it should. He rounds the end of the bed, crouching down beside her so that he is at her eye level. Her eyes, however, are tightly shut. She refuses to look at him.
With gentle fingers, he reaches out to brush the hair back from her face but when she flinches again at his touch, he feels as if he's been punched in the gut. Quickly withdrawing his hand, he remains still, staring at her silently, unsure of what to do. He understands her state of mind, he may be the only person who ever will, so he should be able to think of something to say to comfort her. But nothing that comes to mind seems appropriate. There is nothing that anyone could've said to him after he'd endured torture at the hands of a mad man that would've made him feel better. Nothing would've comforted him. He says the only thing that he truly wants to say to her.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that this happened to you. I'm sort that Slade used you. I should've known that he would target you and I should've protected you. This is my fault, Felicity, it's my fault and … God, I'm sorry."
