Chapter 8: Recovery

Okay, guys, getting back to Felicity's point of view now that she's back from a coma. But of course, just as Slade mentioned in Chapter 6, she never woke up the same again. Things will now get intense throughout this story.


It's been only two minutes since I returned from the dead and now I have people hovering over me, asking if I was all right and asking if I had any broken bones. The first thing I did when I woke up was call for my mother. Donna embraced me and held me tightly. She may not be my real mother but she was the only one who raised me, so, she technically is my mother even if not biologically. Besides, I needed a hug right now. I'm fucking freezing right now. Who the hell put the air conditioner on 40 degrees? If the patient doesn't die of a disease, they will certainly die from the cold in here. Everyone just kept staring at me. It's getting annoying pretty quickly, I don't know why. Perhaps waking up from a coma just put me in a bad mood. The last thing I want is someone touching me right now. I don't want those stupid doctors near me. Oliver already told me about how that bitch of Isabel Rochev came into the hospital, pretending to be my sister (which by the way, I have none), to have me disconnected. She's going to pay for that, I'll make sure of it.

"So, you okay?" Diggle asked me. He was worried about me. He knew that something is quite odd about me since I woke up, despite the fact that all the windows in the room shattered when I woke up screaming. He noticed that I've been quieter and more hostile. If only he knew what happened during my coma.

"Yeah, I'm just tired, that's all," I tell him.

"You were in a coma for three days," Oliver informed me. "Do you remember anything?"

Yeah, I remember. I received a shockwave by William Tockman and got electrocuted. But I couldn't let Donna know that.

"I remember almost being fried chicken," I tell them with a small smile. I know it shouldn't be funny but at least it makes me feel better.

"Anything else?" he asked.

"That's mostly I remember," I lied. He already knew what happened. I was actually lying to Donna, not him.

"Okay," he nods.

"Doctors want to do a few tests to make sure you're okay," Sara says to me, "And to make sure there's no risk of you having another cardiac arrest."

I said no. I don't want those doctors near me. I don't even want to look at them. MRI's or whatever they might want to do. They can forget. I am not letting them touch me. Ever.

One of the nurses came in with a mini flashlight in her hands. She was old, wrinkled and skinny with grey hair tied back in a bun and lips red. She looked sour. And I don't like dealing with sour people.

"Nurse, I don't think she wants anyone too close to her right now," Diggle warned her.

"Don't tell me how to do my job and I won't tell you how to do yours," she barked bitterly as she came closer to me. I don't want this bitch near me. "Come on, look into the light. Come on, we don't have all morning."

She began to flash that darn thing in my face and I quickly grabbed her wrist tightly, and the mini flashlight fell from her hands as I did so. Everyone looked at me in shock, including the nurse.

"Back...off," I snarled in warning.

"Felicity, please, calm down," Donna tells me.

"No. Keep her away from me," I said.

"Felicity, we just want you t e okay," Diggle said.

"Didn't you hear me? I don't want here. I don't want any doctor touching me. Just make them go away," I said almost hysterically. Oliver stared at me in concern.

"Okay, okay," he tells me to calm down, "But first, let go of the nurse."

I breathe deeply. Calm down, Felicity. Once I released the nurse, she scurried away in panic. Great. A few minutes back from coma and now everyone thinks I'm going crazy. It's only been a few freakin' minutes and now my mentality is messed up. Thanks a lot to the Freddy Krueger thing that tried to kill me.

Diggle soon came in close with his own mini flashlight. I flinched at the bright source flashing into my eyes but I made no move to recoil.

"Eye dilation is good," he said.

"Broken bones?" Oliver asked.

Diggle squeezed my arms for any signs of broken bones. I don't have any broken bones. If I had, I would have known, believe me.

"Good."

"Movements?"

"I'm moving aren't I?" I say, waving my arms around.

"Loss of feeling?"

And Sara suddenly pinches me.

"Ow!" I cry out.

"All good. I'm sorry, it was necessary," Sara said as she embraced me, "You have no idea how scared I was. We missed you."

Yeah, I missed them too. I'm so glad I'm here. But I really like to get out of here right now.

"Can I go home, guys?" I asked them. I don't need their permission to leave though. "I want to go home and lie down."

"You can't just leave the hospital now, Felicity," Oliver said, "You just came back from a coma. I don't think it's a good idea for you to go home yet."

"Well...I want to go home," I said more harshly, "I've been in a coma for three days, Oliver. Three days. I mean, I know there are patients that have been in a coma way longer than I have but it's been three days and I'm already going crazy here. William Tockman shocked me. Isabel tried to disconnect me so I would die. I woke screaming. And I don't want to be in this hospital with stupid doctors that don't know where to put their shit together."

Everyone stared at me in shock. Great. Just great. Why can't I just keep my mouth shut?

"...Besides, the hospital food here sucks," I said after that long awkward silence. My head hurts.

"Felicity's right. She's not staying here," Donna said in my favour, "She's leaving this shithole right now."


Slade's POV

Isabel, what have you done?

"Sir, we brought in the AMMO and A-K's that you wanted," one of my guards spoke as he entered my study. I hate interruptions. I'm in the middle of glowering right now. I have to deal with this shit. I already have enough problems right now, "The delivery truck is just outside the mansion."

I had my crew assault a delivery truck of A-K guns and ammo that was on it's way to a military flight to Iraq. Doubt the army in Iraq would need them. They already have enough guns there. They have brought it to me at the Merlyn Mansion. I have bought the Merlyn Mansion when I came here to Starling City, knowing that this house belonged to a friend of Oliver Queen, if you can call him a friend. Thomas Merlyn, son of Malcolm Merlyn. Oliver Queen has no room for friends, only allies or enemies. I bought this mansion to be close to Oliver Queen and close to what's left of his family.

"Tell the rest of the crew to drive the truck around back and load them out," I tell him. The guard nods before leaving the study. Thank God he's gone. I'm about to blow up, especially right now if Isabel doesn't show up. I am going to kill her. She did exactly what I told her not to do. Felicity Smoak was not to be touched and Isabel disobeyed me.

When Isabel arrived at my study, she was smiling at me as if satisfied with her actions. She actually thought her actions pleased me. No. It was the opposite. I was displeased with her action. When she noticed my glare, her satisfied smile slowly disappears.

"You disobeyed me, Isabel," I said, standing up from the leather chair walking out from behind the desk. "You did what I told you not to do."

"The blonde bitch was going to die anyways," she said almost hissing at me as if I have offended her, "In fact, I think I did her a favour."

I seized her neck and squeezed. She choked under my grasp and tried to pry my fingers away, not that it would work. She should know better what the Mirakuru does to people. It makes people stronger. It makes people faster. But it also makes people angrier. It makes me angrier. But now, it is not the Mirakuru that's making me angry. It is Isabel that is making me angry for her disobedience.

"She was not to die at your hands," I roared angrily and shook her violently, "If anyone should have killed her, it should have been me and making Oliver watch."

"I did it...for you," she choked. Liar. She didn't do it for me, she did it for herself. "I'm sorry."

"Give me a good reason why I shouldn't kill you right now, Isabel," I growl at her. Her eyes were rolling back and making small squeaking noises. I knew she was choking out. Don't be such a weakling, Isabel. You also have Mirakuru in your veins. Idiot. I release her and she drops to the floor and gasps for air.

"Mr. Queen..." she coughed and gasp, "was pissed when the doctors disconnected her. He is already suffering the death of her IT girl. I think it was enough."

"It is not enough, Isabel," I said as I turn my back on her, "I wanted Oliver to suffer. I wanted him to be humiliated at the eyes of the citizens of Starling City. To expose him for what he is. And we needed her for that. You failed me, Isabel."

"We still have his lover, Sara Lance," she said, "We can use her to reveal the truth of Oliver Queen to the public. If not, we use her sister Laurel. We threaten her family if she does not reveal Oliver's identity to the world."

"You better hope your are right." I have already informed Miss Laurel Lance about Oliver Queen being the Arrow. I could use her to reveal the Arrow's identity to the public. But it doesn't please me the fact that Felicity Smoak is now that turn around and smack her in the face. She spats out blood which indicates I have broken a tooth. I don't care. She should consider herself lucky. It is nothing compared to what I can do to her. "Fail me again and this time, I will regret letting you live."

"Yes, Mr. Wilson," she nods.

"Now, get out. GET OUT!" I roared angrily and she flees from the study. She should flee. I gave her and act of kindness. If she stayed longer, I would have done worse to her. I should have ripped her throat out for this. But I know I am better than that. I simply left her be.

Once she left, I returned to sit behind my desk where I continued to watch photos of Felicity Smoak, from birth to present. Cute as a child and beautiful as a young adult. It's a pity she had to die this way, barely starting adult life. At least, she died in a peaceful slumber. Perhaps she will be able to see Shado wherever this girl goes. Heaven or hell, depending on whom they both were. I know one thing. God has no place for me in heaven.


Felicity's POV

It feels really good being back in my apartment. I'm tired and so is Donna. Once we entered, I was greeted by Rusty whom I have forgotten to give back to Mrs. Fernandez. He rubbed his head against my legs and purred. I could barely walk. Donna helped me into my apartment and I was limping. I wanted to sleep on the bed but the bed was giving me nightmares, so, I decided to sleep on the sofa. Donna made me one of my favourite soups. New England clam-chowder. She also made me hot chocolate. Hmm. I needed that. The hospital was cold as fuck. Oliver promised me he would sue the hospital for negligence and security issues.

I asked Donna if she could return Rusty to Mrs. Fernandez for me. And she did. But a few minutes later, Donna came back running for her life and slammed the door closed and locked it tightly. I asked what happened (for the fear of someone trying to break into my apartment). It turns out Mrs. Fernandez chased Donna away from her property with a broomstick when she saw what Donna was wearing, a purple cocktail dress with a glitter blazer and high heels. She thought Donna was a hooker. I laughed. That's what she gets for wearing dresses like that in public. She looked like she was being chased by Pac-Man and she was the ghost. Well, at least Mrs. Fernandez has her cat back and I don't have to worry about her showing up on my front door, for now.

"So, how are you feeling, honey?" Donna asked me as she sat next to me.

"Sore," I tell her and it's true. My body felt so heavy and my voice croaked whenever I spoke, "but I'm fine."

I watched her face. She kept pursing her lips and avoided eye contact with me. I noticed her nose turning red and her eyes watered.

"Mom?"

She looks up at me with tears streaming down her eyes.

"I thought you were going to die," she whimpered.

"Ah, Mom." And I bring her into an embrace as she cried. I understand how she feels. I'm the only family she has left ever since her sister (my mother) and her husband (my uncle) died. She didn't have any children. I'm the only thing she has for a daughter. My mother committed suicide (though I doubt she committed suicide) and my uncle Michael died of cancer. My grandparents died of old age. Technically, we're the last of the Smoak family. My aunt and I. Colton, he doesn't even count as a Smoak. He's lower than an insect.

We watched a comedy movie called Blended starring Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore until I fell asleep. But this time, I had no nightmares. It was dreamless. Sweet dreamless sleep.

I opened my eyes, the movie was at the end credits and Donna has fallen asleep on the sofa, snoring softly. I really got to pee. Three days in a coma and my bladder feels like it's going to explode. I really have to pee. And quickly tip-toed to the bathroom without waking up Donna. I pulled down my pants and sat on the toilet, waiting for my bladder to empty out. I sigh. That feels a lot better. I wonder how long other people in a come would last without peeing or pooping. I can't imagine that. It's kind of disturbing, if you think about it. After peeing and drying, I flushed the toilet and pulled my pants back up. I went to wash my hands in the sink but I took a glance at my reflection in the cabinet mirror. God. I look horrible. My face was pale. I had dark shadows circling my eyes. My lips were pale and chapped. The wound on the bridge of my nose was dark and thin-lined but still noticeable. And my hair was in a complete mess. Oh God, I look like the Corpse Bride from Tim Burton. And I also feel a bit strange, a bit different. I don't know what it is but I feel very different. Ever since I got shocked by Tockman and woke up from a coma, I haven't felt the same. And waking up screaming and the windows exploding. That was not normal. Did I do that? If I did, how did I do it? Did I do it just by screaming? Should I even test it? I don't think it's a good idea, especially when Donna is sleeping in the living room, but it's worth a shot if I want to find out. So, I screamed in front of the mirror.

Nothing happened. Not even a crack. And just as I feared, Donna came bursting into the bathroom.

"What happened?" she asked almost in a panic. She looked like she was going to have a heart attack. Stall, Felicity, stall.

"I thought I saw a cockroach," I tell her, "It was just a hairball Rusty hacked in the bathroom. I threw it away so don't worry."

"Are you sure, sweetheart?" she asked. No.

"Yes, I'm sure," I said.

"Okay. Listen, you don't mind if I spend the night here with you, right?" she asked.

"No, not at all. I have some spare pajamas in my bedroom. They might feel a bit tight for you but I think they'll fit," I tell her. She nods with a small smile on her face and heads for my bedroom. I sigh in relief and run a hand through my hair. That was close. If she found out what I was trying to do. She'll think I'm crazy. I quickly wash my hands and dry before leaving the bathroom when all the sudden...SMASH! I run back to the bathroom to see what that was. Shards from the cabinet mirror lay in the sink like broken knives. The mirror just fell apart. What the hell was that?


Slade's POV

Three Days Later...

"Do you have the schedule for the next board meeting, Miss Rochev?" I asked Isabel who stood next to my desk. Every now and then I would only look at Isabel for simple business. I was still angry at her disobedience. And she would look at me like a dog would look at you when you kicked it for doing something bad. It's pathetic of her begging for my forgiveness when she knows better than to cross me. Trust is easy to destroy and it takes many years to build. She just crumbled my trust like a tower of blocks. I would at the desk where Felicity Smoak sat. Her computers were untouched and her personal items were still there. I would have to ask maintenance manager to clear out her desk for me and have her personal items delivered to her aunt as an expression of condolence. I would have done so by attending the funeral but I knew that Oliver and his little whore would be there. I decided not to go there in order to not cause a scene.

"Yes, you're next board meeting is on Wednesday with Mr. Lex Luthor," she says to me, "On Friday, you have a meeting with Mr. Bruce Wayne. Tomorrow, you have a meeting with Arthur Light -."

"Cancel my tomorrow board meeting with Arthur Light, I have other important things to do tomorrow," I tell her and she starts typing on the Q-Pad

"What things?" she asks without looking up from the device.

"Is it any of your business to know?" It's not. I'm planning to take flowers to Felicity Smoak grave as part of my condolences. It's the least I could do for her after what Isabel did. I would not tell Isabel because of her...temperamental tantrums.

Now I have to deal with Oliver Queen coming into my office. I should probably kick him out of the building and forbid him from coming near the building. But where's the fun in that, not having to torture him with my constant presence in the building? There is no fun in that. Still, I am not in the greatest mood to deal with him. He was already standing in front of Isabel.

"Detective Quentin Lance and three more cops are in this building to arrest you for the attempt of murder of Felicity Megan Smoak," he says. Isabel said nothing. She remained stoic as ever. Oliver was pissed off.

"Attempt?" I spoke up. Is she not dead?

"Don't act like you don't know," Oliver snapped at me, "Isabel tried to kill Felicity in the hospital while being in the coma."

"Actually, I tried to have her disconnected," Isabel said, "but you have no proof of it whatsoever."

"What makes you sure Isabel did it?" I asked him plainly.

"Well, if you haven't noticed, your assistance wasn't very careful nor was she very patient on getting rid of Felicity Smoak," he says, "Quentin Lance check security cameras in the hospital. She was talking to the doctor that was attending Felicity and she signed a few documents before she left."

"And what did those documents contained if I may ask?" I asked even if I already know the answer to that.

"She had Felicity Smoak disconnected. She used a fake name to pretend she was her sister," he says, "Unfortunately for Isabel, she doesn't know how to cover her tracks. She left fingerprints on the pen she used to sign the documents and the police were able to identify her writing."

"Oh, Isabel, why were you so careless," I said casually, "If you're going to kill someone, of course I told you not to do so, you should at least do it right and not leave trails."

"Either way, Felicity is dead. I think I did everyone a favour," Isabel kept saying. Keep your mouth shut, Isabel. Everything that you say will be used against you. "She was a total bitch."

"That's calling the kettle black."

We turned our attention to the doorway and to our surprise, there stood Felicity Smoak, leaning against the door-frame with her arms crossed over her chest. She was wearing a black dress with a white Peter Pan collar and leather belt around her waist, and her lips were painted in wine red. She looked like Wednesday Addams. She no longer was wearing her ponytail, her blonde locks cascading over her shoulders. And of course, she does not look happy.

"The next time want to kill me, Miss Rochev, I suggest you choose something a little bit less obvious," she said sternly, "Of course, if you wanted to be obvious, why not just stab me repeatedly in my sleep."

I look at Isabel. She was in complete shock seeing Felicity still standing and alive. I was surprised as well.

"What are you doing here?" she asked with a hiss, "They said you were dead."

"Actually, Oliver said I wasn't dead but since I knew you wouldn't believe him, so, I decided to come here to prove a point," Felicity said.

"And what is that?"

"Karma is a bitch," she said. This is the first time I have ever heard her use that word before and it is sort of unnerving. I wonder if it is a good idea to be at her bad side. "To answer your question, God still has a few details to sort out for my new home, so, until then I'm stuck here."

That's when Detective Quentin Lance and three more cops appeared into my office.

"Isabel Rochev, you're under arrest for the attempt of murder against Felicity Megan Smoak," the detective said as he handcuffed her wrists behind her back, "You have the right to remain silence. Anything you say will be used against you at court. You have the right to an attorney. If you do not have an attorney -."

"Oh, shut up and take me to jail. You're boring me!" she snapped.

"Isabel, watch your tongue. Do not say another word," I warned her, "I'll call your lawyer this afternoon."

"Good," she says as she was being dragged out of my office by another cop but took a quick glance at Felicity, "This is not over."

"Who says that it is?" she says. She seems serious. She seems different, very different.

Once Isabel was gone, Oliver approached Detective Lance.

"What about Slade Wilson?" he asked, giving me a glare.

"Were you aware of Isabel Rochev's attempt against Felicity Smoak's life?" the detective asked me.

"No, not really." I was not aware of Isabel's attempt until she sent me the text message. "I'm simply perplexed for what she did."

"Well, since Mr. Wilson had nothing to do with Isabel's attempt of murdering Felicity Smoak, I think there's no reason to arrest him right now," he said, "Of course, if there's anything you need to tell me, Mr. Wilson, please call us."

"Will do," I smile. "I will do everything in my power to make things right. I will make sure Miss Rochev learns her lesson."

"Okay then," the detective sighed, "I better get going again. I'm glad you're all right, Miss Smoak." Then he left.

"Felicity, you can go home if you want to," Oliver said to her but she simply shook her head.

"I thought I'd get some work around here," she said to him. Something is wrong with her. I can tell from the look in her eyes. She seems a lot more stern and perhaps colder. It's just as I warned Oliver about. These who wake up from a coma, do not come back the same. But how much did it change Felicity Smoak.

Oliver reluctantly nods at her before leaving the office. It seems that he trusts I will not do anything to her. He is correct. There are too many witnesses for me to lay hands on her, and there are security cameras in every corner. She and I are alone but I do not feel we are alone. Thousands of eyes are watching us even if they are not present.

"Glad to have you back, Miss Smoak," I tell her.

"Good to be back," she stood up straight and patted the skirt of her dress.

"I was afraid you were dead. I thought I had to clear out your desk and deliver your personal items to your aunt." The reminder that I know a small part of her secret made her stiffen but she still remained stoic and serious.

"I appreciate the effort but that no longer will be necessary." She seems serious, a lot more direct. It shouldn't be any of my concern but it does. "Is there anything you need?"

"Yes, I need you to make sure Isabel cancelled out my appointment with Arthur Light tomorrow. Can you do that?"

"Yes." I watched as she adjusted her glasses.

"Is everything all right?" I ask her with a hint of concern.

"Yes. A little bit shaken up from my recent event but I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You seem different today," I tell her. She frowns at me.

"...Have a good day, Mr. Wilson." And she returns to her desk. She worked all day in front of the computer. I would look at her every now and then but she would not turn to look at me, not even a glance. She remained focused on her work. But I noticed something. She was looking at something on her computer on the Google website. SONIC SCREAMS. I frowned curiously. Why would she be looking at those kinds of information? What is it that she has discovered and has not spoken about it? As far as I know, not even Oliver knows what is happening to her. This needs to be taken care of and fast.


39 years ago...

"So, what's going to happen if our parents divorced?" I asked my brother Wade. We were playing Monopoly in our bedrooms. We had bunk beds. He always slept on the top. And it was storming. "Which parent are we going to live with?" Of course, I was only eight at that time.

"Isn't it obvious? You'll be living with your mother and I'll be living with the asshole of my father," he said after sucking in a cigarette and letting smoke puff out of his mouth. He was only fourteen but he can sometimes be rough and also a big mouth. My mother would never approve of him smoking, especially in front of me. Of course, my mother never approved of anything from him. "She hates me you know."

"I don't hate you," I tell him. The reason why my mother hates my brother Wade is because he's not really my brother. My father cheated on her with a whore and brought back Wade. Wade doesn't even have the last name Wilson. His last name De Farge. My father thought she couldn't have any children and then I came along. I always noticed my mother glaring at Wade but I never took it as hatred. I always thought it was because he did something bad which is something he always did.

"Of course you don't," he says, "You're the good boy of the family. But just you wait. Once you get older, you'll start hating pretty soon." At this moment I would say he's wrong but somewhere in the future, knew he'd be right.

"Wade?"

"Yeah? What?"

"Do you hate me?" I asked him. He frowned at me.

"Why the hell would I hate you and where did you hear that shit from?" he asks me angrily.

"Dad says that you hate me because I'm a shithead and that's why you're always picking at me," I tell him. Here how it goes. My mother hates Wade and my father hates me. And that's how we do not get along.

"Well, don't you listen to anything that asshole says," he tells me sternly, "because it's not true. I don't hate you. I only pick on you for fun, not because I hate you. You're my brother. Well, you're my half-brother but you're still my brother."

"...Wade, Mom 's ill," I tell him, "She's coughing a lot. She has a fever. And she's breathing funny. And her hair is gone." I didn't know she had cancer back then. There was signs though. She was going bald from the chemotherapy.

"Yeah, as if nobody had noticed."

"Is she going to die?"

"Heck if I know. I'm not the doctor. You know, despite her hate for me, I hope she doesn't die. But even if she does dies, I'll still be here for you."

"But we'll be living with Dad and he hates us both." On of the things my father did to express his hate for us, is slapping me in the face and hitting Wade in the back of the head with a baseball bat.

"Don't worry, we won't be living with him for long. If I go, you're coming with me. We're brothers, Slade, and brothers stick together..."

"Like a gum to a shoe," I said.

"Exactly." He grabbed me and rubbed his fist against the top of my head. I always hated it when he does that.

Sleeping at Last- Saturn

(Violin)

Of course, it was just as I feared. A few months later, my mother died of cancer, and Wade and I were forced to live with our abusive father. He always came back home drunk and angry. Wade had to keep me locked in my closet so my father wouldn't find me. Unfortunately, Wade was always paying the price for his violent behaviour. It came to a point where Wade and I couldn't take anymore and we decided to run away from home. While our father was at work, we pack our bags as fast as we could and we took a cab. We stole 100 dollars from our father's wallet and went far away as we could. We made it to the other side of Sydney where we were born. I was a bit scared at first but as the years went by, things were a bit normal for me and my brother. That was until we were running low on cash. We didn't have a job, so, we began robbing pharmacies and stores at night, stealing food and clothes. When I saw Wade stealing money from the cash register, I knew that something was changing in him. I asked him to consider but he said no. And things began to increase and I always end up right in the middle of it. Wade and I stole a car for a joyride. He doesn't know how to drive and ended up crashing into someone's fence. We bailed afterwards. Wade was teaching me how to smoke. At first, I didn't want to because the smell was ghastly but he thought I was child and I did it anyway just to prove him wrong. Then, he started drinking. I didn't start drinking till I was twelve and my first beer tasted like horse urine. I preferred the Australian rum. Like I said, I was scared because these things were all new to me and against the law. I thought we'd caught and thrown in jail, notifying our father our location. But the adrenaline of it made me feel unafraid. It was exciting.

You taught me the courage, of stars before you left.
How light carries on endlessly, even after death.

That was until I saw my brother stabbing an old man in the alleyway with a pocketknife and that's when I knew he crossed the line.

With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite.
How rare and beautiful it is to even exist.

"Wade?"

I couldn't help but ask
For you to say it all again.


Felicity's POV

It's been almost a week since I woke from the coma. I have been trying to organize my life as it was before. I returned to work by day from 7 to 4, from 4 to 7 I hang out with my mother at the mall or at the movies and I would work with the Arrow afterwards. They are all a distraction from my traumatizing nightmare that nearly killed me. Over the last few days, I haven't had a single nightmare. I kept my interactions with Slade to a minimum after knowing he already sold out Oliver's company to separate competitive companies. We simply spoke about business and nothing more. He didn't even bother asking personal questions from me and I am somehow glad for that. Of course, he would still look at me from his office. I find that quite weird and disturbing. Oliver has been a bit concerned about my behavior though. He noticed I was quieter than usual. I was too pensive. He asked if I was all right every now and then, and I would give him the same answer even though I wasn't really sure if I was all right. I know that something is wrong with me. My body has become more energized and I always desired desperately to get out of the chair and do something physical like that wing chun Sara kept telling me about. And let's be honest, I'm getting the hang of it. Diggle wouldn't leave my side every time I worked beneath Verdant for the fear of me getting hurt again. I know he means well but...hey, I'm not made of freaking glass, guys!

I tried to write it down
But I could never find a pen.
I'd give anything to hear

As for Donna, she extended her visit for a few more weeks to spend more time with me. Yeah, right. Every since the coma thing, she went all Momma Bear again and was treated me like I'm twelve. God. Making my meals and doing my laundry. I know that other sons and daughters would consider this as a good thing but I can take care of myself. I don't need her to do this for me. I'm fine.

You say it one more time,
That the universe was made
Just to be seen by my eyes.

What happened to Isabel? She's still in prison. Slade had a lawyer called for her and unfortunately for the police station, they were obligated to release Miss Rochev by the end of the week because their chief states they do not have enough evidence to convict her of attempting murder. Urgh! I wish Dorothy dropped the house on her instead of her sister. I hate her and I also hate Slade. I'm still considering quitting the company but it is the only place I'm being paid well and I need the money for my apartment and bills.

I couldn't help but ask
For you to say it all again.

And Rachel? Being with Rachel was like a sigh a relief. My little girl. She means the entire world to me. It has been a week since I've seen her but it feels like it was forever. The orphanage called me after knowing of my new condition, and stated that Rachel acted hysterical in the middle of the night the other few days ago. When I went to pick her up, she was just sitting by herself and playing chess by herself. She is always by herself. She is never very social. When she saw me, she quickly bolted from her chair and practically threw herself into my arms. I embraced her tightly. I missed her.

I tried to write it down
But I could never find a pen.

Things have become more or less normal after this or at least, that's what I thought.


A Year Ago...

"So, what exactly am I supposed to do here?" I asked the caretaker of the orphanage. I got into this program where I'm supposed to be a substitute foster parent for kids that do not trust being adopted by strangers. We're supposed to be temporary parents. There was a sign up for it and I volunteered, something I want to do besides working at Queens Consolidated and earn some extra money. I was assigned to a six year old girl named Rachel Roth. The caretaker spoke to me about her before showing me the place around. Rachel was apparently found in Gotham in an alleyway next to a dead woman that had her guts spilled out. They assumed she was her mother. She was holding her hand when they found her. "She's dead," that was the only thing she said before being brought here. The police wanted to send her to a psychiatrist to have her evaluated for any signs for psychosis but until they get a warrant, the girl is stuck here with no one allowed to adopt her until she is investigated. It's a sad story but I have teenie tiny question...WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SIGNING ME UP WITH HER FOR THEN? If you guys think she's dangerous, why the hell are you dragging me into this? I was nervous now.

I'd give anything to hear
You say it one more time,

"We're to ensure trust among our children. They don't really trust being adopted by other people. They think they'll make them forget about their own parents. It's deniability, I assure you. There were even a few incidents where some orphans become violent at the presence of the stranger that tries to adopt them," she says to me.

That the universe was made
Just to be seen by my eyes.

"Could be worse. I saw this movie where a kid at an orphanage kept throwing darts at people so they wouldn't adopt him," I told her.

"Yes, well, one of them threw a knife and ended up in juvenile prison for a while," she said.

I couldn't help but ask
For you to say it all again.

"Oh. Has Rachel done anything involving violence?" I asked.

"No, not really. But she doesn't seem to talk to anyone. She is always cooped up inside reading books and drawing. And her drawings are quite eerie."

I tried to write it down
But I could never find a pen.

"How so? Is she drawing trees with heads? Curiosity, by the way."

"She is always drawing these birds. These horrible black birds. They're ravens."

Okay, that is certainly disturbing.

"So, you're hoping I could straighten her out by leaving her in my care."

"Only in the weekends. We don't plan on letting the children live with substitute foster parents, knowing that there will come a day when the child gets attached to the substitute or the substitute gets attached to the child." Oookay. That's kind of stupid. What if the substitute actually ends up being the official foster parent. You really didn't think this through, did you? But that's all right, as long as the little girl doesn't end up putting a pillow at my face in the middle of the night, everything will be just peachie, I hope.

I'd give anything to hear
You say it one more time,

She guides to the bedroom where Rachel was staying. At least she wasn't staying in an isolated bedroom. At least six more kids slept in here. It was entirely empty except for a little girl sitting on the window-seat, drawing. I'm guessing that must be Rachel Roth.

That the universe was made
Just to be seen by my eyes.

"Rachel!" the caretaker called out as we walked towards the window where she was sitting. The little girl turned to face us. She was about six. Her was small and pale with pinkish shadows beneath her ice blue eyes and her hair was sleek and black like...well, like raven wings. "Rachel, this is your substitute foster parent. She will be taking care of you for the weekends. Please try to get along with her."

She stared at me attentively. She didn't say anything. She seems very shy. I hope things go well with her.

"Hi, Rachel, my name is Felicity Smoak," I smile at her and she smiles back me softly.

With shortness of breath, I'll explain the infinite
How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist.


Hey, guys, sorry it took me long to write this chapter, I was really busy but don't worry, Black Smoak is still in play.