A/N: So, I uh, took a route with the story that is a little crazy.

TWO YEARS LATER:

She was running. Faster than she thought her body could carry her. This was not the place to be caught. Or at least not where she wanted to be caught.

She just had to go after him. She wanted him to pay worst then she did. He was evil. Nothing had changed and she was stupid to believe it ever did.

Then again, one could call her the bad guy now. She had not been to America in two years. No one there had heard from her. Come to think of it there's probably a star on the wall for her now. They erased her. They offered her up to The Depot without even blinking.

From torture to becoming one of their heads. She went for the one thing that she could poke at it's weakness. Expose it and ruin it.

Kapiushon.

Oliver was annoyed that his men woke him from his sleep, but they said it could not wait. What's so important it can't wait till morning? Tiredly, he follows them to the basement of the Bratva mansion.

"We found her on the premises." Are the last words Oliver hears before nothing else matters. He thinks his eyes are deceiving him.

A woman is tied to a chair. Beaten and bruised all over. His men tortured her for information. She wouldn't give anything up. Of course she wouldn't. Blood stained her face and now short blonde hair, but those eyes. Those piercing blue eyes still struck him as hard as they did two years ago.

Felicity Smoak was before him.

He was about to rip his men a new one for touching her. For hurting her.

"Why the hell did you touch her!" His words were full of rage. His men were audibly confused at the situation.

"Sir, we didn't want to wake you."

"Untie her now. Take her to a guest bedroom and bring me medical supplies to clean her up!"

The men didn't hesitate as they followed Oliver's orders. He said nothing to Felicity as he left the room. He was shocked to say the least. If she'd been let out of jail, why was this her priority?

This wasn't the reunion he had in his head. It was more of her yelling at him for not visiting her. Then Oliver would convince her he was sorry and tell her words he never spoke. That was not happening. The fairytale reunion went straight to hell.

He had to clean her up. Even though he had medical staff that could do it, he had to insure her that she was safe. He went to his room grabbing a sweatshirt of his knowing it would be oversized and comfy for her. Before another thought crossed his mind. What if the CIA sent her here to kill him? He did betray them and ran with the Bratva. Hell he's the fucking Pakhan now.

He swallowed hard. Not wanting to think of that possibility. From what he knew Felicity had been through hell. He doubted she'd so blindly follow the agency now after what they did to her.

Opening the guest bedroom Felicity sat upright on the bed and was cleaning a cut on her hand. She didn't move or acknowledge Oliver's presence at first until the awkward silence was too much to bare.

"How kind of you to save me before your men extracted my teeth." She spat. So she was angry. Great.

"Felicity, how are you here? Why are you here?" Oliver grabbed more gauze to wipe at her face gently.

"To steal information. I'm still CIA." The lie came easier to her then what she thought it would.

"You can't be serious after what they did to you." Who was the 'they' he was referring to?

"Is that why you defected back to Bratva?"

"I have many reasons for being where I am in this organization. The CIA is corrupt. The Depot is stronger then ever and I picked a side I'd have a better chance of living on."

She winced as he took a hold of her right hand. Examining it carefully he realized it was badly sprained.

"My men do this to you?" He asked as he began wrapping it up.

"It's from something else." She wasn't going to give him more than what he needed to hear.

"Care to explain?" He raised an eyebrow at her. God, she was still beautiful. He needed to stop thoughts like that. There was something about this situation that was just off.

"Not to you."

He shook his head. The fire certainly hadn't died in the woman before him. He grabbed the sweatshirt now placing it close to her. "I thought this would be better for you to wear. You can stay in this room and rest. Are you hungry or is there anything I can get you?"

She stood up before punching him in the face with her left hand, hard. Blood spewed out of his nose and mouth. What the fuck?

"That's for leaving me to rot for two years while you became the king of Bratva. Now will your men let me out of here or do I have to punch them out too?"

Disbelief. Shock. Who even was this Felicity Smoak? It was out of character for her to be acting like this. Oliver swallowed tasting the metal of his blood before thinking of something to make her stay.

"Please rest here. We can talk in the morning."

"Do not try to reason with me right now."

A thought crossed his head. Felicity said she was here for information and now after being in the main areas of the mansion she was eager to leave. She had a wireless bug on her. She just had too.

Before he could think about how she would react he lunged at her dropping her face down on the bed with his chest pressed to her back. He pinned her and she tried to break free.

"Where is it?"

"Don't do this!" She yelled. That's when his hands began to roam. And sure enough in between the cups of her bra was a device. Pulling her around he yanked it from her before smashing it and putting it in the bottle of rubbing alcohol.

She sat on the bed now with her eyes wide for the Bratva monster in Oliver had been unleashed.

"What are they looking for?"

"Oliver…" she warned.

"WHAT ARE THEY LOOKING FOR!"

She jumped at his outburst before composing herself, "They're trying to get enough proof to extradite you back to the states. They want to show no mercy." Another lie. She wanted him to find the bug. It would be something the agency would do. She had to prove that she was still CIA to him. Even though he would have no way of checking it out. He'd believe her because he failed her. That was what Felicity was preying on.

"Why are you helping them? You want me dead? Because that's what they'll do Felicity! They'll kill me!" He began pacing not wanting to process this.

"It's complicated." It sure was. He had no idea that the CIA delivered her over to The Depot. He never checked on her. Never came to see the supposed jail cell she was in at a high max facility. He believed whatever lies they told him. She was going to play him like he had played her. She wasn't a toy to throw around anymore.

"Stay," he tried to comfort her by touching her arm gently, "please just for a day."

"They'll come for me. I'm the best asset they have right now." Another lie. The CIA would rather her be dead.

He stared at her for a minute before answering this woman, Felicity Smoak, was a rougher version. This woman had survived two years in jail and now the CIA was using her again to get her to take down Bratva. Shouldn't they be more worried about The Depot literally building an army of mind controlled individuals? Yet here they were attacking Oliver again. He wanted her to answer. To say that she'd stay and never leave. He'd protect her at all costs this time. He'd die for her, damn it. He just needed the time he so foolishly gave away with her back. He needed a bargain anything for that time back. Oliver didn't realize that they were holding each others hands until she pulled away and began to tend to her wounds again. "Do you need me to help you? Is anything broken?" She couldn't be mad at him for being concerned could she? He saw her roll her eyes as she now took of the black long sleeve shirt that covered her. An inaudible gasp left his mouth at the destruction underneath. What had they done to her?

Welts covered her back, most looked like scars though. Her ribs were bruised badly. He was sure one had to be fractured. There was also gunshots wounds that looked old.

Her body was almost as scared as his.

For the first time in two years, Oliver's heart broke again.

Without thinking he stepped closer to her. Expecting her to punch him or tell him to go away, she didn't. He began examining her ribs, concerned something broken would puncture her lungs. He touched her gently as she said nothing, but winced when he applied pressure.

"How long have your ribs been like this?" He met her eyes.

"Two days…" She looked down like she was in trouble. She had him around her finger. Perfect. She had one of her agents pound at her ribs for added effect.

"Felicity," he touched the spot again harder and she hissed, "Are you having trouble breathing?"

She hesitated, "No."

"You're lying." He knew she wasn't going to like the next words out of his mouth, "I need to have a doctor look at you. To make sure you don't have a punctured aorta or lung."

"Look at you getting all medical on me. What do you care Oliver? I infiltrated your organization."

Oliver was downing Russian Vodka for breakfast. He had somehow convinced a very difficult Felicity to have his personal doctor check her out. She was diagnosed with two fractured ribs, a sprained wrist, two broken fingers, and 5 stitches for the cut on her arm. The treatment was the worst part. Six weeks of restricted activities. Meaning Oliver was literally trapping her in his Bratva mansion. He was protecting her no matter what this time.

She tried to punch him again when he told her she wasn't allowed to leave.

"I will not be a prisoner again! Especially not your prisoner!" She screamed causing her to hiss at the now overwhelming pain in her ribs from the two of them yelling at each other.

Oliver hushed his tone, "Please just rest. You're not a prisoner. You need to heal before trying to single handedly taking down The Depot and Bratva all by yourself."

"I'm not some weak little girl." She spat.

Oliver was dumbfounded at the woman before him. Why would he ever think that of her?

"You know they kidnapped me out of jail and the government paid $10 million dollars to get me back. I'm worth $10 million dollars. In the month The Depot had me they made me a lethal weapon. Told me I would be worth the entire universe if I had better combat training, better this and that. Then they sold me back to the CIA like a piece of garbage," she took a shaky breath to calm herself, "I got this far into your organization's property because I'm fucking smart. If I still wanted to I'd just have to type a few keystrokes on a computer and set the Bratva ablaze." So she embellished a little bit. Some truth had to be apart of this so he wouldn't go digging.

"The Depot had you?" That's the words he gravitated to. Not the ones where she was able to burn Bratva to the ground. Nothing in any reports on her that he made Cisco hack spoke of the Depot having her.

He was livid and she was quite pleased with herself.

They made her lethal. They taught her how to shut her emotions off. How to see that there were ways to get what she wanted causing Felicity to throw any shred of humanity in her away.

She wanted these people to pay for ruining her life.

Oliver being the head of Bratva just made her life easier. Her mission was to take down Bratva, then The Depot. She'd hand everything over to the CIA and make them cut her a deal where she'd be in some kind of witness protection program. She'd live on a secluded island and have to have stuff brought to her by boat. That was her endgame.

A/N: I've gone wild. Please please let me know your thoughts on this chapter! I've been very uncertain of this being the route I take with the story, but I went there!

Thanks for all your support and kind words. It inspires me so much to keep writing!