The motel room is small and quiet and smells like stale coffee, it's wallpaper torn and bricks cracking. The twin-bed sheets are too thin and cold for their liking, but Felicity manages to convince Diggle it's only for a few days. He's out like a light within minutes of hitting the bed.

But Felicity can't sleep; every time she begins to drift off, the trapped, claustrophobic feeling she had when trapped in the basement of the Verdant as the Glades fell overtakes her, and she jolts awake, breathing ragged.

Fumbling for the phone on the bedside table, she blinks in the sudden harsh light of the tiny screen. 3:27am. She groans.

Ten minutes later, too tired to sleep and feeling defeated, she decides a walk to the 24-hour-convenience store won't hurt.

(And mentally realises she'll probably regret that thought later.)

It's cold outside; the drastic temperature drop causes her to stuff her hands in her pockets and curse herself for not buying a decent coat.

Cursing Oliver for dragging them into this mess in the first place follows seconds later - an almost automatic reaction. And yes she hates herself a little for blaming him and yes she knows she's part of this 'mess' too, but honestly, Felicity is tired and sick to death of being optimistic and hiding behind her own babbling. She just wants to find Oliver, slap some sense into him (and hug him because she's fricking missing him like hell) and get the whole saving Starling City thing started again.

"Like I haven't spent enough time staring at computers," she whispers to herself, still walking to, well, she doesn't even know now.

"You know talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, right?"

Felicity shrieks. The voice has come from inside a battered Jeep that's been creeping alongside her. The driver continues to talk as though he hasn't heard her.

"Not that I'm saying your crazy! Well, you sort of look like you are - in a good way?"

"Stiles?" Felicity gapes at him, stunned.

The boy she met earlier quirks an eyebrow at her. "No, the abominable snowman, Catwoman."

"Felicity." She reminds him, amused. She's stopped walking and he's stopped driving, the sound of the jeeps engine breaking the silence in the quiet street. "Are you following me? Because I have connections! - I can get lawsuits and a restraining order -" She stops when he starts laughing.

"Definitely not following you; I live a few blocks from here."

"What even are you doing, driving around at 4am?"

"Sorry, Mom." Stiles responds sarcastically. "Out; with...friends." Felicity's not too sure she believes that. "And what are you doing?"

Felicity shrugs. "Couldn't sleep. Convenience store seemed like a good idea." She pauses, rethinking her sentence. "Not to get, like, drugs or anything! Me and pills don't get on well together, because in high school -"

"Felicity!" Stiles interrupts her before she can go into a full-force babble. "As much as I would love to hear your life story, I would much rather give you a ride to the store."

Felicity straightens up and narrows her eyes suspiciously at his request. "And how do I know you won't sedate me as soon as I get in?"

Stiles roles his eyes, "Felicity, I'm 147 pounds of fragile bone and pale skin; you'd overpower me."

"...I think that's a compliment?"

"Just accept the offer, lady."

With a huff of 'fine,' Felicity climbs into the jeep. Satisfied, Stiles starts up the engine.

"So," he begins, "what're you doing in Beacon Falls, anyway? Pretty sure we're, like, the opposite to Starling."

"Only in appearance." Felicity points out.

"You didn't answer the question."

"Maybe I don't want to."

"Jeez, cut me some slack here, I'm tryna be nice!"

"You are being nice." She tells him honestly. "For someone I met, like, twelve hours ago."

"So..." Stiles presses. "What are you and map-guy doing here?"

"Map-guy?" Felicity laughs at him, "you mean Diggle?"

"Diggle?"

"You have no right to insult John's name with a name like Stiles." Felicity defends.

Stiles pauses, "Okay, point taken. Stiles Stilinski, by the way. Continue."

Felicity doesn't speak for several seconds, stares out the window for a distraction. "We're...looking for someone."

"A missing someone?"

"...Something like that?"

Stiles frowns, mind automatically jumping to conclusions (his best friend's a werewolf and there's a freaking Alpha tearing people to pieces, he's allowed to overreact - no matter what Derek says).

"Which means..."

Felicity sighs, "they've purposely gone missing, like they've run away. Me and Dig...want to find them, to sort some stuff out, you know?"

Stiles nods slowly, frowning as he pulls up outside the store. "Uh, sort of." He takes the keys out the ignition. "Well, this is your stop."

Felicity smiles gratefully at him, getting out the jeep and replying through the rolled-down window. "You really didn't have to, but thanks."

Stiles offers her a genuine smile, "Hey, no problem. Sure you'll be okay heading back?"

She nods towards the first rays of light across the sky. "It'll be light soon, I'm good. You should be getting home, though; get some sleep."

Not likely, Stiles thinks grimly, remembering how much schoolwork he needs to catch up on - but he gives her a nod anyway. "Guess I'll see you round, then."

"Yeah, you too."

As he revs up the engine, he shouts after her retreating back; "Good look finding whoever it is you're looking for!"

Felicity waves, mouthing her thanks. And as she walks up to the store, she hopes that Stiles' words have an impact on their search for Oliver. Because really, hope and luck is all she can rely on right now.