A/N: Sorry for the delay, gentle readers! My life is, I assure you, rather insane (not to mention insanely busy). But I hope you enjoy this expanded Felicity POV from "Deathstroke" (2.18). As usual, I lifted (and promptly altered) dialogue from the episode.
Plan B
"For the love of all that is holy," Digg begins in an exasperated voice.
"I'm not going to sit down, so please don't ask me to," I tell him as I make my way around the salmon ladder and back to my computers. "I hate telling people no, but that doesn't mean I won't."
"Your pacing makes me nervous," he complains.
"Well, I pace because I'm nervous, so we're at something of an impasse. You're just used to sitting in the car while you wait for him." Digg snorts. "Although maybe you won't have to do that anymore? Do ousted CEOs keep their drivers?"
"I was his driver before he was the CEO, so I'm thinking this one does. But they definitely don't keep their executive assistants," he quietly adds. "Have you thought about that?"
"Yes," I admit. "For about two seconds, but it just made me panicky, so I stopped. I can pay my rent for a few more months, even without a paycheck. Silver lining to us being so busy is that I haven't had time to spend my extra money. Hopefully it doesn't take longer than that to get back to work. I don't even like being his assistant. It's all very confusing now that I'm unemployed. But in the meantime, luckily for us, I wrote several different backdoors into Queen Consolidated's system, and it's highly unlikely they'll all be discovered."
"When did you do that?"
"You have no idea how relaxing hacking can be, and sometimes I just get bored."
"Didn't you used to say hacking's an ugly word?" Digg teases.
"Yes, well, that was when my life was considerably less complicated. Now I openly admit to liking it fast and dirty." Digg raises his eyebrows. "Not like that! Digg. Gross. Computers!"
"Won't Isabel be expecting something like that?"
"Yep," I say with a nod and a smile. "She certainly will. But she thinks Oliver hired me for..." I clear my throat. "Well. Um."
"Fast and dirty skills not related to computers?" Digg suggests.
"Yes, thank you. Anyway, I made one really obvious. My former IT supervisor isn't the most qualified guy for that job and he hates to admit he doesn't know stuff. I'm thinking, when he finds it and shuts it down, he'll declare a technological victory and stop looking for the rest. Not that he would find them anyway, even if I drew him a picture. And this baby right here," I affectionately pat one of the computers on my way around the desk again. "Ghosts everything that happens at the executive level at Queen Consolidated. We'll know exactly what she's up to the second she does it. Which means we need to tell Oliver she's directing resources to the Applied Science Division. That can't be good."
"People underestimate you at their peril, Felicity." Digg grins.
"Damn right they do."
"You know he could keep paying you," Digg seriously points out. "Oliver's loaded."
"I'm not taking his money if I'm not working for him anymore."
"But you work really hard," he begins.
"Stop," I say, effectively cutting him off. "Yes, I work hard doing this, which is not working for him. It's working with him."
"Felicity," he begins again.
"I'm fine," I loudly declare in a voice that I hope sounds convincingly fine. "This is me, not panicking and not poor. Notice I'm not asking you about your finances. And I'm not talking about it anymore."
"Fine," he says.
"Fine."
"I'm just looking out for you because, I swear, as smart as you are, you don't have the sense to look out for yourself where Oliver's concerned."
"See how that's still talking about it?"
Digg smiles at me. "You're not the only one with lots of thoughts."
"Shut up," I threaten. "Or I will start drumming my fingernails."
"You wouldn't."
"Don't push me, mister." I try to glare at him, but we both end up laughing instead. It's tight and has an edge of hysteria to it, but it still feels good. What would I do without Digg? "He should be here," I mumble, glancing at my watch.
"You sure he's coming here?"
I nod and continue to pace.
"It seems just as likely he'd head over to Laurel's with Sarah."
I shake my head.
"Felicity." He stops me with a hand on my arm. "How do you know this is where he'll come?"
"Go."
My voice came out deeper than I meant it to, but Sarah stops talking, thank goodness, and everyone looks at me instead of him. He doesn't need this. Not now. Not all this fighting and bickering and second-guessing. He needs us to believe in him.
Oliver locks eyes with mine, and for that moment, everything else disappeared. Sarah and Digg and the lights in the lair. For that moment, I was speaking for his ears only. To him. To the Oliver I know he is.
I didn't want him to go, and I knew he didn't want to have to kill Slade. On the inside, I was trying not to shatter into a million pieces thinking about all the many ways this could go horribly and irrevocably wrong, or, perhaps even worse, the fall-out if it went according to plan and Oliver was successful in taking out Slade. But I said what I knew he needed to hear. And the world stopped spinning when he nodded at me and gave me a ghost of a one-sided smile.
"Go get Thea," I tell him. "Stop Slade. Do whatever it takes."
He swallows, and I nod my head in answer to his unasked question: yes, Oliver, do whatever it takes. Tommy will understand. We'll all understand. You are not a bad person if you kill this man who's hunting your family and threatening your sister.
"End this once and for all. And come home."
Please come back, Oliver. Please.
"Because I know Oliver," I quietly tell Digg. "And he'll come home."
"I just think," Digg begins.
"He'll come here," I say more loudly this time. "And if we're not here, with all that's gone wrong, he will throw a pity-party for one of epic proportion, the likes of which we've never seen. It will make him sulking off to Lian Yu look like a picnic on the beach. He'll come here, and we have to be here waiting to make sure he doesn't destroy the lair or himself."
"Don't sugarcoat it for my sake," Oliver says from behind me.
I can't contain my squeak of surprise and turn around, hands over my mouth to try and stop the words even though it's too late because he already heard them, and careen into him. His hands steadying my shoulders are the only thing that's keeping me from falling to the ground. I hate it when he sneaks around like that, walking in his expensive shoes without making a sound.
When I'm sure I'm not going to fall, I nod my thanks, and Oliver steps back and away from me.
"What are you doing here?" he quietly asks.
"You're predictable, Oliver," I tell him. I leave out the part about how he's predictable to me because I know him better than anyone. "That, and you've been sleeping on the cot since..."
I decide to stop talking before I say anything about Mrs. Queen kicking him out of the mansion, although now that Slade has been identified as Thea's kidnapper, maybe she won't be so judgmental about Oliver's attitude towards him that night.
I also decide it's best to try not to think of her as a bitch, even in my head, because what's in my head doesn't always stay there. So it's Mrs. Queen, rather than Queen Bitch or the Bitch Queen. So many variations on that theme I really can't afford to explore.
Oliver sighs and sits down. He looks at his green leather and hood, his back to us. I hate the way his shoulders slump in defeat, crumbling under the heavy burdens he's been lugging around.
"What are you doing here?" he asks again.
I exchange a glance with Digg because it's his turn to say something. I'm not standing here alone, after all. We're in this together.
"Where else would we be?" Digg says, even though it's really not a question.
"Roy was right," Oliver says.
"Roy is a broken clock," I say. "You just happened to check it at the right time."
Oliver shakes his head.
"He'll be back," I assure him. "He's an angry, out of control teenager with serious authority issues. He could've really hurt Digg, Oliver. Honestly, maybe it's just as well we have one less loose cannon on board now that the Slade Wilson Is After Us ship has sailed. We can deal with Roy after."
"I had it under control," Digg argues.
"Oh yeah, mister 'I'm going to reach for my gun except then he about ripped that arm from the socket.' Roy needs you," I say to Oliver's back. "He'll be back."
"At every turn, I made the wrong decision."
"Oliver," I whisper.
"With Roy," Oliver continues, ignoring me. "With the company. With Thea."
"Oliver."
"You were right," he says, shaking his head. "You're always right, Felicity. I was so focused on what Slade might do to me that it never occurred to me what I could do to myself. I am my own worst enemy."
I don't know what to say, so once again I look to Digg for help.
"That's Slade talking, Oliver," he says in his most soothing voice. "Don't let him in your head like that."
"I can't keep him out of my head, Diggle!" The words burst out of him, as if he wants, more than anything, to swallow them back down, only he can't swallow anymore. I can hear the panic in his voice, and he glares at Digg. "I can't stop him from doing anything."
"Yes you can," I tell him.
"What makes you so sure?"
"You just said I'm always right," I remind him. "So maybe trust me on this one?"
"I," he begins, his voice so small I can barely hear it. "I just."
"It's not just you," Digg says. "You're not alone, man."
"You are not alone," I repeat with conviction.
Oliver looks down, blinking rapidly. It's almost like he's swallowing tears.
"Now what, boss?" Digg asks.
Oliver sits up straight. "Now we fight back." He looks at both of us, and nods once, decisively, like he just agreed with himself. "I." He swallows. "We," he corrects himself. "Will will go after this motherfucker."
"Go Team Arrow!" I say, raising my fist into the air. Both Digg and Oliver look at me like I've lost my mind. "What? Plans excite me."
"You have a plan?" Digg asks Oliver after rolling his eyes at me.
"Yes," I say before Oliver can begin. He closes his mouth and looks at me. "When was the last time you ate?" I ask him. "When was the last time you slept more than an hour?"
"We don't have time," he begins, shaking his head.
"Oliver," I say, reaching for his hand. "Please listen to me." I wait until he nods. "We need you. We need you to be strong. And you're worn out right now. Let's take a minute, or, you know, at least four-hundred and eighty minutes, and make sure you're taken care of so you can take care of everyone else."
He opens his mouth, but I can tell from the look on his face that he's going to argue with me.
"Nope." I cut him off. "We're taking care of you right now. No arguing."
"Okay," he finally says.
"Okay. Digg, how about grabbing some dinner. Please include something green this time."
"I'm on it," Digg says, grabbing his jacket and heading for the stairs. "Be back in a few."
"Do you want to call Sarah?" I quietly ask after the door closes behind Digg. "Get her in on this?"
"Nah," Oliver says, shaking his head. "She might not be very happy with me right now. She knows where to find me when she's ready."
"She's probably checking in with Laurel."
"Probably."
"You were honest with her," I say. "She's done the same for her family. She's not going to hold that against you."
"Just because it's true doesn't mean it's easy to hear," Oliver says. "I have lots of experience with that, believe me." He sighs. "She hasn't been back as long as I have. It's..." He rubs his hand over his face. "Sometimes, it's not easy."
"Being back or hearing the truth?" I ask.
"Both."
He doesn't move, not even to loosen his tie, and he doesn't speak. His head is down, but I know, if he were to look up, his eyes would be far away. They'd be lost to where ever it is Oliver goes when he gets so still and so quiet. It makes me wonder if either he or Sarah will ever truly be able to come back, or if part of them will always be lost and alone and terrified and fighting for its life somewhere far away.
"Do you want to talk about Thea?" I finally ask.
"No."
"Are you thinking about running away again?"
Oliver finally looks at me, a confused expression on his face.
"It was about this time last year when you left. I don't know if you remember, but I had to jump out of an airplane and step on a landmine to get you back. I'll do it again, if that's what it takes. But I think I'll be better with some advance notice. I need to prepare for that kind of thing."
"No," he says with a little grin. "I'm not planning on leaving."
"Did you plan it last time?"
"No. I just. I don't know. I just couldn't stay here."
Tommy was dead, and he thought it was his fault, so he went back to Lian Yu, the hell he knew somehow more comforting than being here with us.
"So that's really not that comforting."
"Would you prefer I throw an epic pity-party for one?"
"That came out," I begin to explain.
"Honestly," he finishes for me. "So really hard to hear, but true."
"Oliver."
"You're right, Felicity." He smiles and unbuttons the top button of his shirt before tugging his tie loose. "You're always right. You could say you told me so over and over and over."
"But I wouldn't."
"Maybe you should." He begins pacing, his route identical to mine. He slips off his jacket and hangs it from the salmon ladder bar. "I can't even have sex without screwing everything up," he angrily says. "You never liked Isabel, and you were right. She was playing me the whole time."
"I thought we agreed that what happens in Russia," I begin.
His withering glare stops me from finishing that statement. His shoes click loudly as he paces around the lair, his hands on his hips, his glorious butt perfectly displayed in his dress slacks.
"Don't let me off the hook like that, Felicity. Hold my feet to the fire, dammit. I was wrong. Over and over, I couldn't have been more wrong."
"Oliver," I soothe.
"Sins of the father," he mumbles.
"What is that?"
"You told me to pay attention to my damn company," he says instead of answering. "You told me to tell Thea the truth. You told me to be careful with Roy. And now everything is ruined, and it's all my fault, and..."
"Oliver," I say more loudly, just to get his attention. "Stop. Not helpful. This is exactly what I meant about the pity-party. Just take a breath and stop for a second."
He stops walking and turns to face me, his hands resting on his hips.
"You've done the best you can," I honestly tell him. "Yes, mistakes have been made. Okay. I admit that. But self-flagellation will not undo anything. All it will do is hurt you, and you've been hurt enough."
Standing there in his slacks and button-down, I can't see any of Oliver's scars. But the ones that matter, the ones he can't seem to recover from, aren't visible. They're buried deep inside him. They're in his head. They're on his heart.
"I don't know what to do," he finally admits. "I look around, and all I see are bad choices."
"Then open your eyes, Oliver. Yes, there are bad choices, and it sucks. And I wish there were easy answers, only there aren't. But open your eyes. You should see me and Digg. And Sarah," I quickly add.
"Slade's not alone either," he says.
"I assure you that his people don't love him the way we love you. They are colleagues, or employees. They are not a team. And Slade is not you. Oliver, you're the better man, in every sense of the word. Spoiler alert: the good guy always wins in the end."
"You say that like you believe it."
"I do. I believe in you, Oliver."
"I don't," he whispers.
"You'll get there," I tell him. "And until you do, I'll believe in you enough for both of us."
