This is a companion piece to my other story Priorities, but can be read on its own.

In fact I came up with this idea first, but needed to create a backstory for it, liked that idea better and wrote Priorities instead. The mass amount of story subscriptions led me to actually write this down. This is five chapters long.

Set after season one and after Priorities: the Glades were destroyed and Tommy didn't technically die.

Any mention of PTSD and its treatment is based on information I found off the internet and is subject to opinions/errors. I am not a professional on this subject nor am I a psychiatrist.

And on with the story…

UPDATE (21/2/14): This story is continued in a companion piece, called Repercussions, which ties off all loose ends. Thanks to all who have reviewed, favourited and followed.

Consequences

Chapter 1

"Do you know Felicity Smoak?"

"Uh, should I?" Roy asked staring questioningly at his girlfriend, Thea, who was in turn staring at her brother through the hospital window.

Over the last month Oliver had been a frequent visitor in this section of the hospital, along with Thea and Laurel Lance. They were all there for Tommy Merlyn. He had survived a building collapsing on him, but surviving was a word with many conditions.

Tommy had yet to wake up.

Seven surgeries had saved his life, along with the heroic acts of John Diggle, but despite all that Tommy had slipped into a coma. And so his friends waited. Laurel was there the most, stopping by in between her cases and her work overseeing the relocation of CNRI to a part of the Glades that was still standing. Oliver was next, though he rarely stayed long and came at odd hours. Thea visited nearly as often, needing a break from the media and life in general. Roy accompanied her most times.

"Do you remember when Tommy first got here and I spent the night in the waiting room?" Thea asked.

"Not something I think I'll ever forget," he said dryly. The memories of the Glades burning were stuck in his head forever. He had saved lives many lives that night, but not enough.

"When I got to the waiting room Laurel was there, her dad was there, Joanna was there and even Oliver's bodyguard was there. Oliver wasn't – he'd left."

"That's significant?"

"Oliver and Tommy grew up together. They are best friends. Why would he abandon him in his hour of need?"

"I don't know."

"I don't either. He won't talk to me about that day. But I think it has something to do with Felicity Smoak."

"And who is that, exactly?"

"She works in IT for Queen Consolidated. Oliver gets her to do work in his club for him, that's where Laurel saw her. Walter knows her, and I met her when she dropped off flowers for him after he was kidnapped. Even Detective Lance seemed to know her, from what I overheard in the waiting room that night. Apparently she was helping him to stop the earthquake and got stuck in the Glades in the process. That's why Oliver left, but why did it have to be him? What is Felicity Smoak to him if he's the one that has to go save her?"

"Sorry, did you just say this Felicity chick was working on stopping the Glades disaster?"

"Ugh, I'm thinking that my brother could be in love with this mystery woman, and all you hear is about the Glades. Priorities, Roy," she chided.

"What's this about priorities, Speedy?" Oliver asked, stepping out of Tommy's room.

"Nothing you have to worry about, Brother," she smiled. "How is he?"

The small smile on his face dropped. "The same. But I'm sure he'd love a visit from you."

"That's what I'm here for."

Taking Roy's hand, she towed him into the room while Oliver stalked off down the corridor.

"You shouldn't have done that."

Felicity woke choking on a scream. She threw off her covers and moved so she was sitting on the edge of the bed, head between her knees. Taking several deep breaths she waited as the adrenalin from the dream ebbed away.

Standing, she walked over to her dresser, her collection of earrings shining in the moonlight coming through her window. Taking the marker, sitting there for that exact reason, she crossed out the day's date on her calendar, the photo above of baby ducks mocking her.

It had been a month since the Glades went down in a man-made earthquake, a month since Tommy was critically injured, since Merlyn Senior was killed by Oliver, since Moira Queen was in custody.

It had been a month since Felicity had been trapped in Verdant's basement. It had been a month since she had been held at gunpoint by three men looting the bar. It had been a month since she had set foot in the place. A month since she had had a full night's sleep.

A month's worth of little black crosses stared back at her from the calendar, not marking the passing of days but the number of times she had woken from a nightmare.

A glance at the clock and experience told her she wouldn't get any sleep again that night, so with a sigh Felicity gathered her clothes for the day and headed to the shower. She would be ridiculously early to work, the guards still on the nightshift, but she would be able to get in some good hours on some Hood projects.

Oliver had only Hooded-up a few times in the last few weeks; when some idiot had embezzled from a Help the Glades charity and some notorious mob lord had gone on a crime spree. The city was too busy mourning and rebuilding to need the Hood at the moment, and Oliver had taken the time to be there for his friends and family, as well as the company. So while Verdant was being remodeled and Oliver was in the Queen Consolidated building most days, it suited Felicity perfectly to do all her work from her office in the IT department.

Once at the QC building she threw herself into her work, taking a small break at lunch and continuing on until well past dinner. Stretching out her sore back muscles she twirled around in her chair once before stopping back at the desk. He phone rang then and she picked it up with an absent, "Hello?"

Silence.

"Hello, is anyone there?" she tried again. "Well of course someone would be there, phones don't ring themselves. Look if you can hear me, I can't hear you, so sorry, I'm hanging up now." It wouldn't be the first time the phones had been on the fritz.

"Felicity."

"Gah! Oliver, don't do that," she admonished, clutching at her desk and glaring at her boss in the doorway.

"Sorry," he apologised, not sorry at all. "Was walking through, heard your voice and thought I'd come visit. You're here late."

"I can't stand leaving a project unfinished," she shrugged, picking up the closest thing on her desk just for something to do with her hands. "Was there something I can help you with?"

Oliver blinked. "No, like I said I was just visiting. Can't a guy just visit a friend?"

"At work," Felicity pointed out, "which is where you do work."

He changed tactics, "Who was on the phone?"

"Nobody. Well somebody, but I don't know. Bad line or something."

"Is that normal?"

She shrugged. "They'll call back if they need to. Oh, how's Tommy doing?"

It was Oliver's turn to shrug. "The same." An invitation to dinner or take out was on his lips, but he couldn't muster the courage or indeed figure out why he needed courage in the first place. They dwindled into silence.

"Well," Felicity said in forced cheer. "Like you said, it's late, so I should probably finish this off and call it a night."

"Yeah. Goodnight, Felicity."

Roy stared at the phone, debating whether or not he should call Felicity Smoak at work again. At first he was just checking if her office was empty, so he could break in and look around, but she seemed chatty, so maybe if he just talked to her she would tell him what he wanted to know. But then again, she was smart, and he wouldn't use her if she wasn't loyal.

Because Roy still wanted to find the Vigilante. And if the Glades were going down in a man-made disaster, which they had, he'd bet everything that the Vigilante was trying to stop it. Thea had overheard that Laurel and Detective Lance had contact with the Vigilante and she had also mentioned that Felicity Smoak, not a trained police professional, had been helping out the detective on the very night of the Glades disaster. So plausibly, that meant that Felicity Smoak knew about the archer and could even know how to find him.

It was a long shot, but something in his gut told him it was a solid lead. Roy had lived his life and survived by following his instincts, and he wasn't about to start ignoring them now.