Reality catches up with Felicity slowly. None of this feels possible. Each crisis has blended into the next lately, but that doesn't mean she'd anticipated this. She hadn't. The Lazarus Pit waters' effect on Oliver is undoubtedly a problem. But compared to being stuck in the middle of an attempted mob coup or crash-landing in the frozen wilderness with no supplies and no rescue for weeks, it's a minor one. To her, anyhow. Apparently not to Oliver.
The unknowns of their situation rattle her down to her bones as Oliver slumps against the wall, his head lolling to the side and resting wholly against her hand, dependent on her support to stay anywhere near upright.
What happened? Why didn't he come to her? Didn't he trust her? Didn't he know she would help? Will he be okay? What will this do to him? What has he done to himself?
Disbelief shifts to anger tinged with frustration. And wow does it shift quickly. Her vision blurs with tears and her hands tremble violently as she eases Oliver so he's no longer resting his head against her.
"What did you do?" she demands in a low, shaking voice as she stands and faces Simon. "You're supposed to be a doctor. 'Do no harm,' right? So what the hell did you do to him?"
Tears obscure her vision and she can feel her face turning an ugly, blotchy red - something she normally hates - but she's miles past caring about that right now.
"What did you do?" she hisses again, advancing on Simon as he backs away from her and holds up his hands.
"What I had to," Simon answers.
"You have no way of knowing what this will do to him!" she points out, thoroughly invading Simon's personal space and forcing confrontation.
"Neither does he," Simon counters with surprising resolve. "But he still chose this!"
She steps back slightly at that confirmation. She'd known this was Oliver's choice. He'd basically said as much. But hearing it stated aloud so starkly makes it impossible to deny. And she'd been more than ready to sink into denial.
"His well-being isn't the only one I have to be concerned with on this ship," Simon points out, pressing the advantage of her momentary silence. "After he nearly strangled Roy, it became incredibly obvious that he is a danger to everyone on this ship including himself. So, yes; I gave him drugs to render him unconscious - at his request - because I am a doctor and my oath is to do no harm, but that doesn't begin and end with him."
She gets it. A huge part of her wishes she didn't. That might make it easier to hold on to her anger. And anger… it's so much easier to deal with than terror and grief and all of the infinitely more complex emotions that Oliver evokes from her. But one look over toward Roy, who is still taking strained breaths and has easily discernible finger-shaped bruises blooming on his throat reinforces everything Simon is saying.
"But I can help him," Felicity protests in a rapidly weakening, hushed voice. "We could have managed this together until we found a more permanent solution. You didn't have to do this. He didn't have to do this."
"He did," Simon counters, dropping his voice to match hers and putting a hand on her shoulder as he turns them slightly away from the others. "He knows he can rely on you. He knows you want to help him. But he doesn't want you to have to."
"I don't mind!" she insists, not even bothering to try to stop the tears in her eyes from spilling down her cheeks.
"But he does," Simon points out, his voice gentle like he's trying not to spook a wounded animal. It's a more apt description than she'd like to acknowledge. "What if one time you said no?"
"I wouldn't do that," Felicity counters immediately, her voice rising slightly in volume with her need to underscore her point. "Why would I?"
"What if you were… too sore or too tired? Or just didn't want to?" Simon asks.
"That wouldn't matter. Not if he needed me," Felicity insists.
"Why?" Simon prods.
"Because… because he needs me," Felicity says, feeling a bit like a broken record. "Because I can help him."
"You know it's more than that," Simon tells her, his eyes fixed solidly on her. "If you did say no… you know what might happen. His control keeps thinning and the only thing standing between him and murdering someone is you. Felicity… you couldn't say no. Even if you think you wouldn't, it's the fact that you couldn't that he wasn't willing to let stand. Coerced consent isn't consent at all."
Something in her crumbles at that. Her shoulders shake as she covers her face with her hands, slipping her fingers under her glasses to press against her eyes. She takes a few steadying breaths after a moment of letting his words settle, feeling out the truth of them and shifting her perspective.
"He told you that?" she asks, her tear-riddled voice gritty and raw as she pulls her hands away from her face and looks back to Simon. "That he was worried about that?"
"Yes. He did," Simon confirms. "And I agree with him. He's not in control of his own actions and you don't have control over your response to those actions. Not right now. And he doesn't want that for either one of you."
"I wish he'd talked to me about that," she bemoans. "He should have explained it, warned me what he was planning."
"He should have," Simon agrees. "Maybe he would have if he'd had more time. I don't think he expected it to happen this quickly."
Simon's words are meant to reassure her, but she knows better than that. Oliver was never going to tell her about this plan. He hadn't wanted to risk her trying to talk him out of it. She knows that, because she knows him. And if they're going to be… them… it's a thing they'll have to deal with. Eventually. Whenever he wakes up.
If he wakes up.
She looks back at Oliver's crumpled form where Thea has crouched next to him and is running her fingers through her brother's hair. Something about the gentleness and concern there - the obviously-worried look that so mirrors everything Felicity is feeling - slices through her and the reality of it truly overwhelms her.
There are no shortage of times she's seen him unconscious, no lack of days she's worried at his bedside while he recovers from some vigilante-induced injury. But this is different. This is uncharted. There's no clear path of recovery to make sure he's following and his injuries aren't the sort that can be seen.
Not by them anyhow.
"We need to find John Constantine," Felicity announces with resolve, turning to look at everyone in the room. "Now. Yesterday. I want him found and on board this ship immediately and I don't care what we have to do to find him. Got it?"
She's not the captain. With Oliver out of commission, that title falls to Digg. But everyone treats her command like the orders they are. They're unified in this, the need to track down Constantine as quickly as possible. And the shared sense of purpose gives Felicity some measure of reassurance.
For now.
A week later, that feeling will have faded some.
Like every day for the past week, Felicity wakes with a crick in her neck. There's no point in trying to sleep in their bed without Oliver there. She'd figured that out fast enough. But the beds in the medical bay are less comfortable than one might expect, considering how often they're used.
Simon had not been thrilled about her insistence on pushing two of the cots together and curling up next to Oliver's unconscious form on a nightly basis. After all, they had no idea if he would actually remain asleep, given that they had only a cursory understanding of how the waters were affecting him. But Felicity had been unwilling to consider any other alternative. She needed the reassurance of his steady breathing to ground her, to lull her to sleep, to keep her sane. With every passing day, she's grown a little more desperate, a little more scared, and it's wearing on her in a measureable way.
"How's he doing this morning?"
Stretching her neck as much as she can - which frankly isn't much - Felicity turns to see Thea in the doorway. It's a familiar sight at this point.
"Same," Felicity replies just as she has for the last week.
"Good," Thea replies, edging her way toward her brother's side and pulling over her now-customary chair to sit with him.
"Is it?" Felicity wonders aloud, a departure from their routine conversation.
Thea's eyes dart up at her in surprise even as she takes her brother's hand in hers.
"I miss him, Thea," Felicity confesses as the weight of everything sits heavily on her heart. "Waters or not, I just want him to wake up."
Nothing but the muffled constant noises of the medical bay echo in her ears as a response. It's all dull beeps from the machines monitoring Oliver's vital signs and steady, quiet breaths and the distant noise of Simon in his office shuffling papers. She hates it. She hates it almost as much as she hates the sterile smell of antiseptic that screams 'hospital' and leaves her nauseous. She wants this over, wants them past this.
She wants it more than anything.
"Yeah. I know. Me, too," Thea agrees after a beat, her voice more authentic and emotional than Felicity had expected. "When he was gone those five years… when he was dead… sometimes I would get so angry at him for being gone. For leaving me. I'd barter with reality in my head, you know? I'd take him at his trouble-making worst if only I could have him back. I'd give up drinking if he'd just come home alive. I wouldn't even be mad at him if he walked in the door. This feels a lot like that. I don't care how he comes back, as long as he does."
It's the most Felicity's ever heard the other girl talk about those years. Hell, it's the most Thea's ever opened up to her about anything. To be fair, she hadn't really had a reason to before. Felicity has been Oliver's engineer for years and she's been his friend nearly as long, but her importance in his life had been muddied until recently. Even if they haven't actually defined what they are… well, the continued presence of his mother's ring on her finger speaks volumes.
She really should give that back to him. Soon. When he wakes up and things quiet down.
"And when he did?" Felicity asks the younger woman curiously. "How did you react then?"
"Oh I broke every promise I made," Thea laughs, her voice brittle.
"I haven't promised not to be mad at him," Felicity confides. "I know better than that. I'm livid. I want to scream at him. But I want to do it with him awake for a change."
"Have you screamed at him while he's asleep?" Thea asks curiously, cocking her head to the side as she watches Felicity.
"Of course I have," Felicity scoffs. "Haven't you?"
"Lectured, not yelled," Thea tells her. "I get why he did it, you know. I can see why he made the choice he did. I'm not even sure it was the wrong one. But it doesn't mean I'm not super pissed about it."
"You should try it," Felicity advises. "Yelling at him, I mean."
"Does it help?" Thea asks her.
"It sure doesn't hurt," Felicity responds with a one-shouldered shrug. "Sometimes you just have to let it out, you know?"
"Huh…" Thea says, her face twisting into a thoughtful expression as she leans back in the chair and studies Felicity with far more scrutiny than she'd have ever expected. Or wanted.
"What?" Felicity asks a little self-consciously, running her fingers through her hair in a futile attempt to smooth it out.
"Nothing," Thea says shaking her head. "It's just, sometimes I forget how opposite you and Ollie are from each other. It's good. You're good for him. He needs someone like you."
"Someone who yells at him while he's in a drug-induced coma?" Felicity asks with a tight laugh, angling for levity and missing by a mile.
"Someone who evens him out," Thea counters, unwilling to let Felicity evade the point. "Someone who will fight for him, even against himself."
"He's always had that, Thea," Felicity points out, her voice soft and her smile small as she ducks her head and looks up at Thea. "He's had you."
Thea blinks back in surprise, her cheeks coloring ever-so-slightly in obvious delight at being deemed so important in her brother's life. And she is. That much was evident from the first moment Felicity heard Oliver mention his sister.
"It's not the same," Thea says after a moment, watching Oliver while she talks to Felicity.
"No," Felicity agrees immediately. "It's not. So maybe that just means he needs both of us."
The youngest Queen looks back at her with a new layer of respect and understanding in her eyes as she nods in agreement. It's subtle, the way their previously friendly-but-shallow acquaintanceship has evolved over this past week. But it has. Something about the danger to Oliver, the similar positions they find themselves in, their respective places at Oliver's sides… it's helped forge an unexpected bond between them that's unlike any other Felicity's had in her life.
She's never had a sibling, but she wonders if maybe this isn't what it would be like to have a sister of her own.
"Maybe," Thea follows up finally.
"I should go," Felicity says, slipping back into their routine.
Now that you're here goes unsaid. This is what they do, now. Every day. Through some unspoken agreement, they stand watch over Oliver in shifts while he sleeps. And while Thea takes her shift at his side, Felicity exhausts every lead they track down in an effort to find John Constantine.
John Constantine… she's starting to question if he even exists at this point, or if he isn't just some myth that Oliver's water-addled brain latched onto with desperate hope.
"Good luck," Thea offers up, the same parting words she gives every day.
Felicity's answering smile is thin. In theory, having some kind of routine between her and Thea is a lovely idea. She just wishes it were anything but this. Watching over a motionless Oliver, waiting for the arrival of some potential savior who may never come… it's wearing on both of them. Honestly, she's not sure how much more either of them can take.
But this isn't about them. Not really. It's about Oliver.
Her gaze falls to him and, even without glancing up, she knows Thea's looked away to give them a moment of near-privacy. Even after a week of him completely unresponsive to the world around him, she half-expects him to react when she cups the side of his face and strokes her fingers along his cheekbone. Every day, every time he doesn't, it hurts all over again.
She won't cry though. Not now. She's done enough of that for one week already.
With a heavy sigh, she leans forward to nuzzle the side of his face with hers, breathing him in and taking some comfort in the steady rhythm of his breath.
"I love you," she murmurs into his temple, cherishing the feel of his skin against her lips. "Sleep well. I'm going to find him."
It's a daily promise. And a fruitless one thus far. But, Felicity isn't one for giving up.
"See you at lunchtime?" Felicity asks Thea as she eases herself off the cot, letting her hand linger on Oliver's arm.
"I'll be here," Thea agrees with a weary resignation that Felicity feels right down to her bones.
She can't stand to respond with anything more than a sympathetic smile and nod of her head. There's no way she's going to trust herself with words at the moment. Not in the face of that sort of shared sense of helplessness that she can't let herself get bogged down by.
After all, she has things to do.
Her morning routine is a whole lot shorter than usual these days. She doesn't bother with more than the basics. Her nails haven't been freshly painted since Solntsevskaya and the chipping remnants of mint green polish feel like a really on-point metaphor for her life right now. But her customary ponytail is in place, if a little frizzier than usual, by the time she makes her way to the bridge. All things considered, that feels a little like a victory and she'll take those where she can find them.
"Morning, Digg," Felicity greets, handing her favorite pilot a cup of coffee she'd hastily grabbed from the dining area on her way. "Mal," she nods in acknowledgement of the other man lounging in the co-pilot seat.
"No cup o' drip for me?" Mal questions. "I'm feelin' a bit unloved."
"I don't usually walk around juggling extra cups of coffee just in case I run across someone who wants one," Felicity points out. "There's more in the mess if you want some, though. We got anything today, Digg?"
Felicity knows better than to hold out much hope for good news as she turns toward the pilot, but she still can't help feeling a bit disappointed at the grim line of his lips.
"Right…" she breathes out before mentally regrouping. "Did we hear back from Lyla yet?"
"Whoever this guy is, he's done a damned good job staying off of ARGUS' radar," Digg notes, obviously biting back whatever it is he wants to say. "She's heard rumors, but that's it. There's not even a file that she can find."
There's no doubt in Felicity's mind what Digg is thinking and it's enough to send her gut spirling into a state of quiet panic.
"He's real, Digg," she insists hurriedly, watching as Digg and Mal exchange a look.
"No one's sayin' he ain't," Mal offers with a tone that sounds more like pity than Felicity can stand to hear. "But maybe we oughta be brainstorming us a 'Plan B.'"
Something tickles at the back of her mind as Felicity turns her gaze from Mal to the strangely-silent Digg and back again. And then it clicks. They've talked about this. They've planned this, a coordinated approach that feels more like an intervention than anything else.
They might say they aren't suggesting John Constantine isn't real, but they both surely think it.
"I am not giving up," Felicity snaps, her eyes fixed on Digg who can't even look at her.
"Neither are we," Mal placates. "Just suggestin' we might want to be lookin' for more than one approach to fixin' what's wrong is all."
"We'll keep looking, Felicity," Digg tells her. "I wouldn't dream of suggesting otherwise. But, maybe we should look more into this water at the same time."
"You already sent Sara to Nanda Parbat, didn't you?" Felicity accuses, already knowing the answer.
"We need a sample for Simon to run tests on," Digg replies in confirmation and Felicity's heart drops. "It's the right choice. You know that. It doesn't mean we're giving up."
She nods, choking on the heavy knot of despair that's lodged itself in her throat.
"Then why does it feel like I'm failing him?" she asks quietly, focusing wholly on Digg and silently appreciating the way Mal turns away to exclude himself from the conversation.
"Because sometimes winning a battle doesn't look like you think it will," Digg replies.
That's true, but that's not all of it, Felicity thinks. Trying this, trying anything but looking for Constantine means admitting maybe they can't find him, maybe he isn't real. And if that's true… if that's true then Oliver's grip on sanity was slipping more than she'd come close to realizing. If that's true, she'd failed him before even realizing it. And that, quite frankly, is entirely too much to bear.
But saving Oliver - any way they possibly can - is considerably more important to her than her own crushed feelings.
"As long as we win it," she confirms, hoping she doesn't sound anywhere near as broken as she feels.
Digg reaches up and squeezes her shoulder, though, so she probably does come across exactly as torn apart as she feels in the hollow of her gut.
"I got it!"
Kaylee's voice, chipper and cheerful as always, breaks through the dismal atmosphere that's crept into the control room. And, just like that, hope wells up again in the pit of Felicity's stomach.
"Get talkin'," Mal prods the bubbly engineer.
"You found Constantine?" Felicity asks at the same time with painful amounts of eagerness.
"Got a damned good lead, anyhow!" Kaylee chirps. "A friend o' mine named Mr. Terrific knows him, saw 'im two days ago."
Felicity's way too excited at the prospect of actual evidence that the elusive man exists to care who the hell this lead is coming from, but that's not true for everyone in the room.
"Mr. Terrific?" Mal asks with the driest deadpan in history.
"It ain't his real name," Kaylee clarifies unnecessarily with more than a hint of defensiveness. "Just the one he goes by."
"...on account of Mr. Universe was taken?" Mal questions.
"He can call himself Superman for all I care. Is his lead good?" Felicity demands.
"Ain't never had him steer me wrong before," Kaylee advises. "He's a real swell guy. You'd like him. Anyhow, he says he ran into Constantine at a bar on Dyton two days ago."
"That's not far from here!" Felicity says in surprise, turning immediately to look at Digg. "John-"
"Already on it," Digg replies from the controls as he adjusts their heading. "We're three hours out at most."
"Did your friend have a way to get in contact with him?" Felicity asks hopefully.
"Says we won't need one," Kaylee tells her with a one-shouldered shrug. "He says if our problem's as bad as we say, Constantine will find us. I guess it's sorta his thing."
"That there's a highly specialized field o' crazy," Mal replies.
"Useful one for us, about now," Digg points out. "Felicity why don't you-"
"Yeah," Felicity agrees, anticipating his line of thinking and cutting him off. "I'll go talk to Thea and let her know what's going on. If we get any waves coming in…"
"Straight to you," John promises immediately.
Felicity nods and turns to Kaylee, hugging the other engineer tightly in tremendous gratitude.
"Thank you so much," Felicity whispers next to her ear.
"Aw, it ain't nothin'," Kaylee replies bashfully, her cheeks turning a brilliant red under the praise. "Just got lucky, is all."
"You kept trying," Felicity points out. "You believed in him. That's not nothing."
Felicity practically expects the other girl to say 'aw shucks' with the way she's blushing and toeing the ground, but she doesn't. Instead she grins back with a happy smile.
"Go let your sister-in-law know we got us a bona fide lead," Kaylee advises.
Felicity nods and hurries from the room. She's halfway to the medical bay before she realizes Kaylee had called Thea her sister-in-law and not only hadn't she objected, she hadn't even registered it was wrong.
Woah.
But even that mind-reeling thought isn't enough to distract her. Not right now. They have a lead, a real lead for the first time in a week. Her hopes are pinned so firmly on this that it's a little terrifying to consider that even a solid lead doesn't actually mean they'll find Constantine and that even if they do, it doesn't mean he'll be able to help.
But she can't think like that. She has to stay positive right now. Oliver needs that from her.
And so does Thea.
"We've got something," she says barrelling through the door to the medical bay with no preamble at all.
Thea stands immediately from the chair at Oliver's side and meets Felicity's gaze as she grips Oliver's fingers with both hands, like a child clinging to a security blanket. Something about her seems so small, so young in this moment that it's striking. She's hopeful and terrified and Felicity's not sure that she's ever related to anyone on such a basic level in quite this way before.
"What?" Thea asks, apprehension dominating her voice.
"A lead," Felicity clarifies, crossing the room to stand in front of the girl. "A solid lead. A friend of Kaylee's knows Constantine, saw him two days ago in this solar system."
Thea sucks in a breath as Felicity's hands grip hers cocooning Oliver's limp palm inside.
"We're going to find him. Soon. Today," Felicity promises, her fingers tight around Thea's.
She's not sure who she's trying to reassure - herself or Thea - but the certainty in her voice bolsters them both. Thea nods in solidarity, her face so hopeful, so trusting that it takes Felicity's breath away. The way Thea looks to her for guidance, for reassurance in this… it rests a weight of responsibility on Felicity's shoulders that couldn't have expected. There's a strange kind of bond forming that she'd never anticipated, but wholly welcomes in spite of the circumstances.
"All of this will be over soon, Thea. I promise," Felicity vows. "We'll get him back."
"Good," Thea says, gathering her composure and straightening her spine with the sort of steely resolve that Felicity has come to expect from the younger woman. "Yelling at him when he can't react really doesn't have the same punch, you know?"
Felicity smiles back at the girl's thin attempt at aloof disaffectedness. She's fooling no one, but she wears confidence like armor and Felicity's positive that Thea needs the familiarity and comfort of that right now.
"I do know," Felicity confirms. "I fully intend to use my loud voice."
"Should we yell at him together?" Thea wonders aloud.
"We might overwhelm him," Felicity replies.
"Isn't that sort of the point?" Thea asks.
"Fair enough," Felicity nods with a smile, releasing the other girl's hands. "I should go let the others know about our progress. If we're going to be able to wake him soon, we're going to need some back up."
Just in case he's even more crazy goes unsaid.
"I'll go," Thea offers. "I promised Roy I'd drop by later anyhow. If you hear anything else…"
"Thea, you are the first person I would tell," Felicity reassures her.
As has become customary in their changing-of-the-guard routine, Felicity busies herself with something else - anything else… refolding blankets, this time - to give Thea a moment alone with her brother before she heads out. Oliver's condition has been hard on everyone, but no one else has gone through what Felicity and Thea have. No one else can understand what they're dealing with. But, strangely, they have each other and a new level of camaraderie that eases their burdens by sharing them.
"This friend of yours had better actually be able to fix the whole water thing, you jerk," Thea mutters affectionately under her breath. "Otherwise Felicity and I are going to start swapping embarrassing stories and I really don't think you want that, do you? I'm not above sharing baby pictures, Oliver. I think you know that."
Felicity can't help the grin that takes over her face. Hell, she doesn't even try to resist it.
"I'll see you in a bit," Thea says a bit louder, pulling Felicity's attention away from the fully uninteresting starchy hospital blankets.
"Okay," Felicity agrees, dropping the blanket onto a pile of identical ones and heading over to Oliver's side.
Thea strides out of the room without another word, her head held high with a confidence that Felicity's relatively sure the other girl doesn't feel anywhere near as strongly as she's trying to project. That's okay, though. Fake it 'til you make it, right? If there's one thing Thea Queen is excellent at, it's managing what image she shows the 'verse. That truth alone makes it more than a little surprising that she's been gifted the opportunity to glimpse beneath the girl's mask this past week. Surprising, but wholly welcome.
"You're lucky, you know," Felicity says, smoothing Oliver's hair back unnecessarily and letting her fingers linger along his hairline. "Your sister's pretty great and she's only livid because she loves you. FYI, that's why I'm livid, too. But you'll get to hear all about that later, buster. Because she's right. Yelling at you while you're unconscious isn't as effective as I'd like."
Predictably, there's no answer. Just Oliver's even, quiet breaths.
Silence doesn't sit well with Felicity. It never has. But she doesn't feel like hearing herself ramble at the moment, so she rests her cheek on Oliver's chest and lets the steady thrumming of his heartbeat fill her ears. It's soothing, a reminder that even if he's not there, he's also not gone. She's spent a lot of time listening to his heartbeat this week.
"Felicity, we've got a wave coming in."
It's Digg's voice over the comms and - just like that - she's pulled back into reality, jumping to her feet and scrambling for the comm system to reply.
"Is it him?" she asks, as soon as she hits the button to reply to Digg.
"Dunno," Digg replies. "I thought you'd want to take it."
"Patch it through to the med bay," she says excitedly before releasing the button for the comm system and hurrying over to the screen in Simon's office.
Though it feels like forever, it only takes a couple of seconds before the wave is connected and an unfamiliar face appears on the monitor in front of her. On first impression, he looks like the sort of man who's gone a few rounds with fate and never managed better than a draw, but kept grinning even as the 'verse kicked him in his teeth.
It's completely unsurprising that he's a friend of Oliver's.
"John Constantine?" she asks, buzzing with anticipation.
He quirks his head to the side at her immediate question, seeming equal parts amused and curious by her.
"That's what it says on the business card," he confirms.
"Oh thank god. I need you."
"I've got to say, that's by far the best and most forward greeting I've ever had, love."
"What? No… that's not… I need your help. Not like that kind of help. You can't help me there," she backtracks flusteredly. "Not that you aren't perfectly fine at that kind of help. I'm sure you… are. Probably. Or, actually I don't know, but that's beside the point because I'm set in that department. Or I will be. Once you help us."
He blinks at her in confusion or possibly disbelief, an unlit cigarette dangling from the side of his mouth.
"You've got quite a way with words," he says slowly after a moment.
Felicity sighs a frustrated huff of breath. She's doing this wrong.
"Let's back up. How about you start at the beginning, now that we've established you aren't propositioning me" Constantine offers.
"Right," Felicity replies, refocusing on solving the crisis at hand with considerably more coherence. "My name is Felicity Smoak and we've been looking for you for the past week."
"I had an inkling that you might be in need someone with my area of specialization," he says. "All maps lead to your ship these days. Seems like you've got yourself one hell of a problem, love. Though, I'm a bit curious how you knew to try and track me down. It's not all that often my reputation precedes me. Well… in a positive kind of way, anyhow."
"Oliver told us to look for you," she explains.
He pauses at that, suddenly looking infinitely more serious.
"Oliver Queen?" he questions.
"Yes," she confirms, running her fingers through her hair. "He needs your help."
"What happened?" Constantine asks, flicking his lighter on and off but making no move to light the cigarette resting on his lip.
"Have you heard of the Lazarus Pit?" Felicity asks.
Constantine stops playing with the lighter immediately, his eyes widening as he sucks in a breath.
"You'll be wanting to lock him up, if you haven't already," Constantine counsels with frightening intensity.
"He's unconscious," Felicity tells him. "He has been for the last week. Our doctor… Oliver asked him to while he was… mostly lucid."
"Clever boy," Constantine replies.
"Can you save him?" Felicity asks a little desperately, terror infusing her voice. "Please tell me you can. I don't know what we'll do if… Just… I need him back. We all need him back. Please tell me you can save him."
"No, love. I can't save him," he answers, shaking his head. "But you can. And I'll help you do it,"