Roy had never felt so helpless. He had thrown everything he had into training against Dig and when he could easily fight against him, Oliver finally conceded to spar.
They stood opposite each other, moving in a near-graceful motion—if two grown men practicing to incapacitate someone could ever be considered graceful. When Roy thought of grace, he thought of Thea, and her ability to walk in shoes that defied the laws of gravity.
A sharp pain shot across his face as a short stick of bamboo left its mark. Roy no longer had the ultra-healing effects of the Mirakuru, but he had something equally effective—the numbness that resulted from a shattered heart.
"You're thinking about her!" Oliver shouted through gritted teeth.
"So you're telling me that when you went to rescue Laurel from Deathstroke you were able to focus on more than the gooney who had his gun pressed to her temple?" he questioned in a near-whisper. Oliver straightened with a jerk and Roy used his distraction to take him down at the knees, quickly stepping behind the man and bringing the bamboo stick to rest against the side of his throat, intentionally recreating a scene that he knew Oliver hated to relive.
The scene where Oliver realized he had lost everything, even if it were still standing—breathing—right in front of him.
Oliver, though, was still the better fighter. He threw his weight into Roy and tossed him easily over his shoulder; Roy landed against the hard floor of the foundry, the air painfully expelled from his lungs.
"Not Laurel," Oliver muttered, tossing his bamboo stick onto Roy's chest as he sulked away, upset.
Roy watched him go, knowing completely what he meant by those two words. Felicity hadn't told anyone what had happened when Slade had taken her, but he had seen the small cuts on her neck from the blade and the bruises on her arms where his hands had held her.
Roy also understood that, although Oliver was too stupid and stubborn to admit it, he probably hadn't even really noticed Laurel—not the way that Felicity's face was no doubt burned into his mind.
He shook his head and walked towards the blonde sitting behind her desk, studiously avoiding everyone in the room but her precious IT-babies. She was looking up topographical maps of different regions of South East Asia, no doubt trying to help find Thea—Felicity was the only one who believed that Malcolm Merlyn might still be alive, yet alone behind Thea's disappearance.
He carefully sat a hand against the back of her neck, his warm, rugged fingers easily spanning the width of her cool, pale skin. She flinched, at first, but when he didn't remove it she settled into the touch, knowing without turning around exactly who it was.
They were unlikely friends. The ghetto rat and the It-genius, the enraged crime fighter and the MIT graduate. But they were united on one front.
Loss—and all the heartbreak it entailed.
Roy knew that after whatever Oliver had done to finally break Felicity, she hadn't just sulked and punched things as he had—she had shut herself down. His heart had shattered, but hers had disappeared, and that was by far worse.
Perhaps it was because his heart was shattered that giving her pieces to borrow until she felt the need to dust hers off was easy. Really, though, it had never been a choice at all.
Oliver watched Felicity fidget in the elevator on their way to the top level of Queen Consolidated. She was obviously uncomfortable and for some reason she wasn't telling him why.
It scared him.
The last time she had hid something from him, he had concocted a million reasons why, each one far worse than the previous. At first, he thought that she was leaving—that someone had offered her a better position, something in IT, and she had taken it. Then she thought that someone had threatened her and she was too afraid to tell him and he had vowed then that he would shed blood for this woman. Then finally, when she had looked into his eyes and started babbling about her family, the heart he didn't even think existed any longer thudded once in his chest at the obvious pain in her voice. He had wanted to pull her aside and take her away, away from it all, but that was the moment everything had started to fall apart.
But he had never once blamed Felicity, if anything, he had only counted on her more.
When they stepped out of the elevator, he had every intention of telling her all of this—of laying everything he needed to say, should have said, out in the open right on the marble floor of what used to be his company—because what else did he have to lose?
"Felicity?" he asked, grabbing her elbow and spinning her towards him.
"Felicity?" another deep voice echoed his question and he spun at the sound, not because someone else was saying her name, but because they said her name the way he said it, holding the weight of all of the words he wished he didn't have to leave unspoken.
"Ed?" she breathed, stepping around Oliver as if he weren't even there. "I had read that you were appointed to the board, but I didn't think it could possibly be true—you'd never leave Coast City and—"
"You still ramble I see," he smirked at her, his hand lightly brushing the small of her back as he walked them towards the board room. "I knew you were working here, but last I checked you were working in the IT department?" he quirked a brow, the question evident as to why she was attending a board meeting that would decide the CEO's fate.
"I was!" she exclaimed excitedly and Oliver felt the familiar pang of guilt that he had felt many times since pulling her from the basement of IT. "But well, it's kind of complicated and well-uh, I…" she stammered, trying to explain, and Oliver stepped in, pasting on his best CEO smile.
"Oliver Queen," he said easily. He knew what the name meant and the effect it had on people. "Felicity happens to be my Executive Assistant as well as my most trusted friend," Oliver shot the man a look that told him easily to back the hell off.
"Surely she's been doing something besides playing secretary; you haven't been CEO for nearly two months," the man commented, a smirk on his face for Oliver, but he was clearly focusing on Felicity.
She blushed, of course, and jumbled more words, rambling about trying to find something, but with the second destruction of the city it hadn't been easy.
"My company—"
"She still works for me," Oliver interrupted before this pompous ass could make Felicity an offer that might steal her away from him. "And I do believe that after this meeting you'll feel confident in my abilities to regain control of this, my, company," Oliver glared at him, daring the man to challenge his claim.
"Then let's get started shall we," the man gestured for everyone to take a seat and Oliver and Felicity began their presentation.
He discussed financial jargon that his lawyers had prepared for him—and that he honestly didn't understand—fortunately, it looked that many of the board didn't understand it either. Then he and Felicity further discussed the plans for moving forward as well as new investment projects now that Starling yet again needed to be rebuilt. They closed with a kick in the ass that it had been the board that had hired Isabel Rochev in the first place and Oliver would have given anything to know Felicity's true thoughts on that matter—she had never liked that woman.
Felicity gathered his things and he bent to help her. They made their way out of the room and she heaved a sigh of relief.
"That went well," she breathed.
"Who is he?" Oliver asked, trying to sound casual.
She shot him a dirty look, but didn't respond.
"Felicity, he's magically just shown up on the board of my business and you happen to know him—"
"So you don't trust him or you don't trust me?" she stood straighter, walking right up to him until they were nearly touching. Oliver hadn't been this close to her without her flinching since—
"I trust you explicitly," he said without hesitation. Because it was true. He would easily put his life in Felicity's hands and not think twice. "Him, on the other hand," he jabbed his finger over his shoulder just as the door opened.
"Edward Raymond, Mr. Queen," he smirked as he walked out of the room. "You did quite well in there, the two of you, quite a team," he looked between the two of them and something in Oliver's gut told him that the man was not to be trusted. "The board will have a decision by tonight and we shall reach you then Mr. Queen, although it does seem you have them won over," he said easily. Oliver recognized it as the easy tone of businessman—someone quick to lie and even quicker to gamble.
"Thank you Mr. Raymond," Oliver replied with equal ease. He turned to go, but stopped when he realized that Felicity was not with him. He tensed when he saw her smiling at the man.
"Felicity," he murmured. "I'm in town until the end of the weekend on business; please, give me a call and let's get together for dinner," he squeezed her hand as he put his card in her palm.
They walked silently to the elevator and when they stepped in Oliver couldn't hold it any longer.
"How do you know him?"
"MIT," she answered simply.
"Who is he?" he asked again, realizing he sounded like an Inquisitor and also realizing he didn't care.
"Edward Raymond," Felicity said as she rolled her eyes.
Oliver ground his teeth, resigning himself to having Dig run an ARGUS background check on the guy.
"Don't even think about it," Felicity hissed beside him. For one moment he wondered if he had said the words aloud and then he realized that Felicity just knew him—and that he had done the same thing to Barry Allen. "No background checks, no threats from the night time vigilante, no evil glares in the office, and no stalking me to find out how I spend my evenings!" she was shouting by the end and although Oliver felt bad he had upset her, he was slightly relieved that she was showing some form of life.
"I don't have to find out how you're spending your evenings," he conceded and he smiled a true smile at the relief that crossed her features, but he also smiled at the sheer horror that would have crossed her features if he told her that he knew exactly where she spent her evenings, because she generally spent her evenings with him.
Felicity stormed into the foundry and she only slowed when Dig and Roy looked up from training with a startled expression.
"Everything ok?" John asked carefully.
"Whatever Oliver tells you, NO background checks on an Edward Raymond, understand!?" she pointed her finger at him. "He might threaten you with arrows, but remember, I'm the bitch with wifi!"
She stormed towards her computers and sighed when they purred under her touch. Then she gasped at the face that appeared on her screen.
"Roy!" she shouted, knowing Dig would follow. She double checked the print outs, once, twice, and even a third time even though she knew that a computer couldn't lie.
"What is it?" he asked cautiously, no doubt aware of her mood.
She simply pointed at the screen.
It wasn't Thea. But her green eyes stared back at the camera, as if mocking the viewers on the other side.
"Holy shit he's alive," Roy gasped. Felicity shot him a look and he explained. "I mean, I didn't send you on a wild goose chase, but come on! But Sin was right!"
"Sin was right about what?" Oliver asked as he bounced down the stairs, still in suit and tie.
"Look," Felicity said, unsure of how Oliver would react.
He didn't, and that was almost worst. He stared at the monitor, unblinking, as if it would disappear if he so much as moved.
"This doesn't mean that Merlyn has Thea," he finally whispered.
"Come on Oliver," Felicity murmured, feeling pity on the man. "You didn't want to believe that Malcolm was alive, but now you know he is. There's no reason to believe that he wouldn't come back for his only child."
Oliver simply nodded as he sat back in Felicity's office chair. Roy on the other hand was pacing like a mad man.
"We have to go get her, we have to get her back," he was gesturing wildly with his hands.
"We can't take on the men that Malcolm has no doubt gathered," Oliver argued. "She's going to have to come home on her own," he sighed, running his hands through his hair. For one moment, Felicity was surprised as to how easily Oliver had given up on his little sister, then she saw the calculating look in his eyes and she realized that he wasn't giving up, he was simply regrouping.
"What if she doesn't!" Roy shouted. "How do you know!" he was nearly screaming and Felicity tried to approach him, but he only backed away, like a caged animal.
"Because I did," Oliver sighed.
Felicity watched Oliver leave and shortly after him Roy followed, red hoodie in his hands. John touched her shoulder, saying something about going home to Lyla.
When she was completely alone, she put her head into her hands and she allowed herself to cry. She cried for Oliver, the boy before the island and the man who had broken her heart. She cried for Roy, whose heart had been split in two, across thousands of miles. She cried for John who, although he was too private to share with the group, was carrying a weight that everyone noticed but no one asked about.
And finally she cried for herself. She cried for the heart that she thought she was missing, but obviously that wasn't the case, because surely her chest wouldn't ache so badly if it were empty.
"Leave her, your time with her is done," Merlyn stood over her and Thea almost smiled, she was almost grateful that this man had come back for her. Surely the devil that she knew was better than the devil that she didn't.
She stood, although it was painful; she had learned over the past days, weeks, months—however long it had been since she had been dropped into hell—that pain was relative and that it thrived on whatever your mind fed it.
"Are you ready to fight?" Merlyn asked her. He had asked her continually to address him as father and although she did it aloud to avoid punishment, mentally, her mind was her own.
"I'm ready to survive," she replied. He handed her his sword and she took it easily. It was weighted differently than the weapons they used to train with but she cared it nonetheless.
When she had tried to shoot him in the subway terminal he had called her a killer, told her that that was what had differentiated her from Tommy. When she had first come to this island and had been told what she would have to do she bulked.
Then she realized that she hadn't pulled that trigger to kill her father. It was survival. She knew that Merlyn would eventually be her undoing and although she hadn't been trained well enough then to know to shoot for his head, she hadn't meant to end his life, simply prolong her own.
They stepped into the sun and she took a breath. All this time she had been training underground. She had assumed that Merlyn feared she would flee, but she had heard others speak of the island and she knew that she couldn't escape. She looked around and saw men, mostly, training against each other in ways far more brutal than she had been prepared for.
"These men," she asked quietly. "They follow you?" she knew that he had been disavowed from the League for his actions in the Undertaking, he had tried to explain those actions and they had only further motivated her revenge.
"I lead them," he said simply, as if there were a difference, and, she guessed, there was—it depended on if you were doing the following or the leading.
She looked at Merlyn. She would not kill him, just as she hadn't considered it killing him in the train terminal.
She would simply survive.
A/N: Thank you all so much for the support on this story! I'm so glad that everyone is enjoying it so early! Some background: Felicity Smoak is from a different comic and she's married to a guy named Edward Raymond so that is where his character is loosely coming from in case anyone is interested. Also, I'm going to try and further develop Thea's character, mainly because I really like her! Thanks again for all of the love and continue to let me know what you think!
