AN: I started writing this right after the s3 premier. This is not set in any particular season. Sara lives. Unbeta'd. If they're any glaring grammar or spelling mistakes, please let me know!

I was there for you ; In your darkest times
I was there for you ; In your darkest nights
But I wonder where were you? When I was at my worst
Down on my knees, And you said you had my back.

So I wonder where were you?

When the world around us crumbles we are left with only one solid thought. Just how alone we truly are.

Those words were etched in the brick floor just beneath her hands. She had been staring at it for hours (or what felt like hours) as she lay prone in the corner of her damp jail cell. A small window eight feet above her head provided little light. She had lost count of how many days she had been here. Maybe it had been weeks. After a while time had become less relevant. Food was brought to her vary rarely. She was too weak to get up and get it for herself. Someone would drop a tray at her feet and she would crawl to it like an animal.

There were no cushions to soften the hard grimy floor. The clothes she was given when they brought her in this cage were threadbare and offered little comfort to warm her aching joints.

She had begun to run her fingers over the carved words once more. How desolate the person who left these words must have been, she thought. The loud sound of her jail cell being opened slightly awoke her from the trance of looking at the carvings on the floor. From her peripheral she could see the figure enter her cell.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

"Get up!" The sound of another human's voice surprised her, making her jump a little in shock.

"If you need help walking let me know" The stranger's voice was softer this time but still rough. Female.

She could only nod her head. She hadn't used her own voice in so long she was afraid it might not work at all.

She was then dragged through a winding maze of tunnels and up a couple flights of stairs. Her body so emaciated that she couldn't stand upright on her own two feet. Her captor had enough strength to carry her the entire way. Though given she was just a bag of bones at this point; it didn't surprise her in the least. Finally they reached their destination. Unceremoniously she was dropped to the floor and her vision blurred.

She felt like she would pass out at any second.

She didn't have her glasses but what she could make out was she's not alone in this rather large room. From her surroundings she gathered that she was being held in some abandoned warehouse or factory. How original. The building itself had multiple levels. There were at least a handful of guards standing in a circle around her. They were whispering to each other, but in a language she couldn't understand. It sounded Arabic. She wasn't too sure.

A moment later she was being handled up to her feet once more. A blurry figure from the back approached her. This time when she spoke, in English, she couldn't help the shiver that ran down her spine. Something about this voice was familiar. She knew this person.

"My dear, I am sorry this happened to you. It was all rather unfortunate circumstances. Circumstances beyond your control, and you were caught in the crossfire." Slowly she began to stroke her cheek.

"I know nothing I say right now will make you believe me, but one day you will look back at this moment and you will smile. Today is a day of celebration."

She couldn't help but snort, and even though the action burned her unused voice she couldn't help but reply, "And why is that?"

"Today, Felicity Smoak, you will begin your journey to be remade"

Before she could process the words, before she could even see her winding her arm back, the blurry figure punched her square in the jaw.

Everything went black.

Oliver was calm. Calmer than John had seen him in these last four and half weeks, what with the pacing around like a caged animal, and barking orders at everyone in sight. It worried him that Oliver was this calm. Nothing good came from this level of denial.

Calm before the storm.

It had been three months since her disappearance, and roughly four weeks since they had their last viable lead. Even then, it was little to go off of. ARGUS helped collect some intel, and they shared that info with the team. The sight of the compound had been under their watchful eyes for years now. Some recent activity showed they were moving bodies in and out of their main holding cells, and they saw a blurry image of what might be a certain IT genius.

In all honesty it was nothing to go off of, but it was all Oliver needed.

Unfortunately for them it didn't pan out.

Everyone had been exhausted. After their seven hour flight to South America, it took another three and a half hour drive, past the Peruvian border, to arrive in the thick amazon jungle. The presence of militia forces could not be ignored, and everyone had to endure the rocky terrain lying in the back of an arms truck buried beneath crates.

The only thought Oliver had in his mind was, Get Felicity. Save Felicity. Lock her up with her own personal version of secret service. It didn't matter to him that John said he was being impractical.

Sure will of power couldn't bring her back, though. It seemed whatever operation was going on at these abandon compounds had just been evacuated.

A day late and dollar short.

And now John Diggle was sitting here at the foundry looking at an unnervingly calm Oliver Queen.

"What's our next step?" Digg asked carefully. When Oliver didn't respond he pressed on, "If they wanted something, whoever this is, if they were holding her hostage…"

At this Oliver's eyebrows pinched together and his jaw began to clench. "What are you trying to say Digg?"

"What's our next step?" Digg said more firmly. What he really wanted to say was, "Are we looking for a body?" but he decided against it. It wouldn't do any good. He berated himself to think like that. It felt like giving up on Felicity. The type of lives they lead made for some rather pessimistic views on the world. If it had been any other person, Oliver, Roy, hell the entire Arrow team would have figured that person was as good as dead.

It was 3AM when Lance got the call. They found an unidentified female burnt to death and discarded into a dumpster. The Glades had improved since the emergence of The Arrow, but this place was by no means crime free. Case in point nights like tonight.

Two of his best were at the scene of the crime. Detective's Rodriguez and his partner Simmons. Lance knew it had to be important if they called him in. They were more than capable to handle this case on their own. For one heart stopping moment the thought of his daughters came to the forefront of his mind. Hoping and praying to God that it was not them in that dumpster.

At the scene of the crime the two young detectives meticulously combed over the body to find some information on their Jane Doe.

In the left pocket of an over coat they found a cell phone. From the looks of it someone had smashed in the screen, but it was unclear if this had happened postmortem. In the right pocked was a keychain with some whimsical Harry Potter quote and a badge ID for Queen Consolidated. It was the ID that caught the young detective's eye.

Felicity Smoak

Employee #: 8657678

Position: EA

Management: Oliver Queen

Access Level: All Clear

The name was familiar. Felicity Smoak, known associate of The Arrow.

"Has anyone else been near the body?"

"No" Simmons was quick to reply. "We're waiting for forensics to get here."

"Good. We need to get Lance down here." Rodriguez said urgently.

It took Lance another ten minutes to drive down to the Glades. When he arrived at the back end of a dank ally he was immediately briefed with the information his detectives had gathered, and also the findings of her identification.

The picture and the name written on the badge knocked the wind out of him

"Fuck." That was all he could manage to utter. The pain and disbelief was evident in his voice.

"I don't want anyone near that body. I want to be there every step to determine who this is exactly. Are we clear?"

Simmons nodded his understanding. Lance couldn't take the risk with this. If this was really Felicity he was going to be damn sure beforehand. Taking these extra precautions ensured no one could tamper with the results.

I need to let the Arrow know. God help whoever is on the receiving end of his wrath.

Thoughts? Please review and let me know what you think. I know this is an overdone trope, but I am hoping that my take on it has a new spin. I don't want to give too much away, but a lot of the inspiration for this story came from "Captain America: Winter Soldier" Don't worry it's not an exact replica, but you'll see some familiar elements.