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Felicity is in the lion's den, even though she doesn't realize it at first.


Chapter 4


When Felicity woke up the next morning, she felt reborn.

She smiled at Mr Darhk when he accompanied the man who delivered her food, and he smiled back at her. He watched, unblinking, as she happily downed the yellow capsule, and he seemed almost reluctant to ask the soldier to check her mouth, to see if she'd really swallowed it. She understood why it was necessary, though.

"I think tomorrow, don't you?" Mr Darhk was speaking to his second-in-command, who didn't seem as cheerful as his boss. "Just to make sure."

The man nodded, what looked like a permanent frown on his face. He gave Felicity a disgusted glare, and stalked away, leaving her alone with Mr Darhk. She didn't mind, though, and couldn't believe that she'd ever hated him, or feared him. When she looked at his benevolent face, all she felt was a deep and abiding love, and a desire to do everything she could to serve him.

There was a niggling feeling in her mind, though. A voice which was almost out of earshot, but which was, perhaps, protesting. Maybe even screaming? She shook it off. Mr Darhk was looking at her, an eyebrow raised.

"Anything wrong, Felicity?" His eyes were hypnotic, dizzying. She would happily lose herself in them.

No, there was nothing wrong, she thought. When he looked at her, she felt like she could accomplish anything.

"No, Mr Darhk. I was just wondering what kind of work you want me to do for you."

He beamed at her, and she was lost. "Let's wait another day, shall we? You need time to acclimatize. I'm going on a business trip for a week or two, and Murray over there will explain everything you need to do."

"He doesn't seem to like me very much." Felicity couldn't help pouting as she spoke.

"That's irrelevant, my dear. Regardless of personal idiosyncrasies, we're all working together for the greater good. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, Mr Darhk!" She couldn't help the feeling of joy that was blossoming in her, like a flower which had been kept in the dark till now.

After her breakfast, she started making a list of all the ways in which she could be useful to Mr Darhk's work. It was a mental list, as she hadn't been provided with any type of writing tool. But she was sure that the next day would be different. There was still a worry in her – a patch of darkness in the bright light that was her new life in Mr Darhk's organization. She knew something, and she hadn't told Mr Darhk about it.

It came to her once the lights were turned off, and she was trying to get to sleep. The Green Arrow had a secret identity, and she knew who it was. She'd even been engaged to him, one time, though it seemed ridiculous to her now. How could she have any feelings for someone who was Mr Darhk's enemy? Still, she knew. She knew the truth about Oliver Queen. But surely Mr Darhk knew all this?

Felicity chewed on her lower lip distractedly, trying to come to a decision. Mr Darhk would be gone in the morning, so she couldn't tell him personally. She didn't trust his soldiers, either. Even if they hadn't glared at her all the time, she didn't trust them not to scoop her on this information.

She wanted Mr Darhk to praise her, to love her as much as she loved him. Not in a romantic way, of course. Mr Darhk was a happily married man! No, she wanted to be loved and praised for her abilities and her skills, anything she could contribute to the cause. So she resolved to keep the information to herself, until she could speak to Mr Darhk in person.

The next morning, she was given a small metal pill-box, and while she was watched as she swallowed the capsule, it was clear that she was being trusted to work more or less independently. She even got bathroom privileges – even though it meant she had to get up earlier than the rest of the men so that she could shower on her own.

Breakfast was different, too. After her shower, she was led to a large cafeteria type room, with about fifty men in grey overalls eating something which looked like an oatmeal coloured brick. She took hers and sat down. Even though she was the only woman in the room, everyone ignored her, which was fine by her.

Afterwards, Murray, Mr Darhk's second, showed her to the terminals where she'd be working. She was supposed to be hacking into the databases and networks of various companies, as well as of law enforcement agencies, all of them based in Star City. When she asked what the endgame was, Murray glared at her.

"Information will be given out on a need-to-know basis, Smoak. Right now, you don't need to know. Just make sure we can get in and out of their systems whenever we need to, without leaving a trace."

That was nothing, she wanted to protest. She could do that in half a day, and still have time to play a couple of rounds of Call of Duty at the same time. But she knew she was in danger from these guys. Even though they were all supposed to be working together, for Mr Darhk, they didn't like her much.

So she spent about a week working on the databases, pretending that it was taking her longer to crack them, leaving some tasks undone for the next day. There was one where she needed to be onsite, though: ARGUS. However, she was saving that for when Mr Darhk returned. She wanted to impress him with her skills in the field.

The days passed without incident, lulling her into a sweet monotony, which she filled with thoughts of becoming Mr Darhk's best soldier, of rising in the ranks, so that he'd smile at her, and praise her. Every day was like the previous, especially once she'd broken into all the networks she'd been assigned.

The food added to the monotony. It was always very similar, and mostly tasteless – an undefinable block, which was, she was told, full of the necessary proteins, vitamins, and minerals which would keep her healthy.

One morning though, there was a strange flavor in it – one she couldn't ever remember tasting before. She was so preoccupied with trying to figure out what the taste was, that she didn't notice her lips and tongue going numb. When her throat started closing, though, was when she started to panic.

Felicity sobbed for breath, her hands clawing at her throat. She tried to swallow, tried to inhale, tried to speak. Nothing. The light was fading in the room, leaving a dark halo around her vision, and she collapsed off the bench to the ground, trying to curl in on herself. She knew she was going to pass out very soon, but couldn't even explain what was wrong.

Men's voices reverberated over her head, sounding increasingly faint and faraway, even as a buzzing increased in volume, threatening to drown them out.

"What the fuck is wrong with her?"

"Her clothes, dammit! Where are the clothes she was in when she came here? Did she have a purse?"

"Epipen, you asshole!"

Her entire stomach felt like it was trying to come out of her mouth as she vomited up everything she'd eaten, but it still didn't help her airway open. The final straw was when someone punched her in the thigh, and stabbed her, too. She'd have protested if she could get a word out.

The next few minutes, or hours, went by in flashes, like slides on an old-fashioned projector.

She was being carried back to her cell.

She was dumped on her mattress like a sack of potatoes.

Someone clumsily scrubbed her face and neck clean.

"Can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me." The voice was hoarse, with fear or rage, or both.

Felicity managed a jerky nod, still not sure what was going on.

"You tell him about any of this, and we will hurt you in ways you can't even imagine. Do you understand?"

For a second, Felicity was in another place, another time, and Oliver was asking her the same question. He'd told her he loved her, though.

The man speaking to her now clearly didn't share Oliver's feelings. He shook her, and she moaned. Everything hurt. Everything. Why hadn't she noticed whatever kind of nut there must have been in her food? What had she been thinking? He shook her again, and this time she got angry. She managed to open her eyes fully, grabbed some strength from somewhere and shoved him away with both hands.

"If any of you guys touch me again, you bet I'll be telling him!" Her voice was a mess, low and hoarse.

The man looked outraged. "We saved your life!"

"After putting poison in my food." She was amazed he understood a word of her sullen croaking.

"You never told anyone about any allergies!" he protested, sounding strangely self-righteous.

Did you even ask, she wanted to gripe. Why was she so angry, though? She was acting like she was a prisoner there, which she wasn't. Was she? She went back to the morning, which had been perfect, just like every morning that week. She'd gone for a shower, and then for breakfast. Which was where it all started to go wrong. What, though?

The guy was still hovering over her – she had to get rid of him first. She couldn't figure out what was wrong with her with this asshole studying her every facial expression. She waved him away.

"If he asks, just tell him I get bad period pains or something."

The guy didn't look convinced. "The pills are supposed to regulate that."

Felicity shrugged, and he went away. Good thing, as she was about to remind him that they hadn't regulated much when his buddy had stared at her boobs for an hour, and got his head blown off for his trouble.

It occurred to her that the haze of joy she'd been floating through had vanished, completely. Well, yes. She'd just gone into anaphylactic shock, she'd thrown up all over herself, and then had been threatened by some brainwashed maniac. There was something she was missing, though.

She went through the morning yet again, looking for . . . something, anything, which would explain how she was feeling. She'd gone for her shower, sat down to eat, and taken the pill with that horrible oatmeal loaf they served every morning. Except this time, the cook must have decided to add some hazelnut flour, and – oh, shit. She'd vomited up her little yellow pill. She immediately patted herself down – and breathed a sigh of relief. The pill-box was still there. She could immediately take her dose, no harm done.

Yes, of course. She'd take her dose. But first she needed to rest. She felt like someone had punched her in the stomach, she was afraid the anaphylaxis would return, she was feeling generally battered and bruised, and she was done with the day. She'd take a nap, and then she'd see what to do about the pill. She still felt loyal enough to Damien Darhk, so what was the problem? Anyway, her throat hurt. She just wanted some sleep.

A few hours later, she woke with a start, drenched in sweat. She'd just had a bizarre nightmare in which she'd been drugged and brainwashed by Damien Darhk, was practically worshiping him, and almost told him that Oliver Queen was the Green Arrow.

As she looked around her, taking in the bare walls, the stripped mattress, the bucket next to her head, and the guard standing at the cell door, she realized the truth. She was Darhk's prisoner. What was she going to do? No one knew she was still alive, that she was here. Wherever 'here' was. No one was coming for her. If she hadn't known about the security cameras all over Darhk's base, she'd have allowed herself a sobbing screaming breakdown. No one was coming.

At least she wasn't moving in a happy haze of drugs anymore, she told herself, firmly suppressing the little voice in her head which pointed out that it had been much better when she didn't know how much danger she was in. Also, now she had to act happy and joyful. Ha, they all said she couldn't act, in high school. Too short to play Lady Macbeth, they said. Well, she'd show them. She'd show them all.

She moved her head too fast, and the bed she was lying on started rocking and swinging like she was on a boat. Steady on, Felicity, she told herself, as she waited for the whole room to stop moving around her. Deep breaths, keep calm, and act happy. Maybe then she'd live to see her friends and family again.

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