A/N: *Gasp* An update? Already? I know, right? I was inspired and wrote it right after I posted the last chapter. The only reason it took me this long is because I wanted everyone to have a chance to read the last chapter before posting this one (and I may have gotten a little distracted in the meantime).

Enjoy!

Chapter 12:

Oliver Queen had been arrested on suspicion of being the vigilante, along with a whole other list of related crimes.

When Felicity had heard the news from Thea, she'd rushed over to the Queen mansion, finding the distraught teenager there alone with a housekeeper. Mr. Steele and Mrs. Queen were at the police station trying to get Oliver released.

While she and Thea sat silently on the couch, waiting for news, Felicity didn't know what to think. Given everything that had happened with the Peter Declan case, it made sense that Oliver could be the Hood. But on the other… Where would he have had time to become a master archer? Because he sure as hell wasn't before the boat went down, and Felicity didn't think there were many archery classes on an uninhabited island. And why would Oliver become the Hood after only just returning to his family? She'd seen him, she knew how much he wanted to connect to them, and how hard it was for him to adjust. Why would he go around killing random rich guys?

Though, as she thought about it, Felicity realized they weren't all that random. They were only the worst of the worst. People with no conscience, who had killed or caused the deaths of dozens of innocent people. So how did the Oliver, or the Hood, know which ones to target?

Oliver had been arrested in the middle of the day, and it was early evening when he arrived back at the mansion. Thea jumped up as soon as she heard the door open. Through the door opening, Felicity saw her hugging her brother as their parents watched. "He made bail, but he'll have to wear an ankle monitor," Mrs. Queen explained.

"If you'll sit down somewhere, sir, I need to put the monitor on," the accompanying officer said.

When she saw them all turn towards the sitting room, Felicity jumped up and went through the door leading to the dining room. She wasn't sure why, but she wasn't ready for Oliver to see her yet. Or for herself to look at Oliver and see the vigilante.

She still heard everything, though. Tommy had apparently come in with them, though Felicity hadn't seen him, and was currently trying to talk Oliver out of throwing a prison themed party at the house. Thea just kept quiet, which was a testament to how shocked she was. Eventually, Mrs. Queen consented to the party and left with Mr. Steele.

Felicity came back into the room.

At first, Oliver didn't notice her, busy as he was studying Thea's face. So when the younger Queen noticed her, Oliver turned around as well. "Uhm, I think Thea needs some hot chocolate, right?" Tommy said, putting his arm around the brunette's shoulders and leading out of the room. That left Felicity standing in the doorway, and Oliver sitting on the couch.

"I know you wouldn't lie to me, not about this," Felicity said, her voice quiet in the large room. Still, it was so silent, he probably heard her just fine. "Are you him? Are you the vigilante?"

For a few too-long moments, Oliver just stared at her, like he was trying to memorize her face. Maybe he thought this was the last time he'd be able to look at her without her being angry with him? Honestly, she wasn't sure what she'd feel if he said yes. Or if he said no.

"I wouldn't lie to you," he agreed, looking down at his hands. "I promise you that, I won't ever lie to you. But I'm not who they think I am."

Felicity frowned, and took a minute step forward. "That's not an answer."

It took another few seconds, but eventually, he looked back up at her. For the first time since she'd known him, he looked small. He didn't look as confident as he usually did. In that moment, it was hard for her to reconcile this person in front of her with the man who'd broken into her apartment to ask for her help. "Yes," he whispered, so quietly, she wasn't qure if she'd heard right.

Felicity nodded numbly.

"Are you angry?" he asked. He tried to look blank, but she'd always been so good at seeing what he really felt in his eyes. He was worried.

"I don't know," she replied, just as quietly. Slowly, she stepped forwards to sit down next to him. "I'd be a bit of hypocrite if I was. I mean, I helped the vigilante, I didn't report him." She couldn't quite talk about the Hood and say 'you' just yet.

"Why did you?" he asked curiously.

Felicity thought for a few moments, collecting her thoughts. "I guess… I'd done some research into everyone the Hood targeted, and… they were all terrible people. Worse, often, than people realize. I didn't agree with his methods, but… Those men needed to be stopped, and the police aren't equipped to handle it. I wanted to help because… I wanted to help people, innocent people," she explained haltingly. Then, she looked up into his eyes, his familiar, gorgeous blue eyes. She shrugged. "And there was something oddly familiar about the guy, you know? I kept thinking that if his voice hadn't been masked I'd recognize it. Of course now I feel like an idiot for not realizing, especially after looking into Declan's case," she said, offering a small smile.

He smiled back warmly and put a hand over hers. "Thank you, Felicity."

And then, she finally knew how she felt. It was a lot to take in, of course, and Oliver would somehow have to get out of these charges against him, but she was sure that he could do it. With some help, if need be. She felt relieved to finally know. And glad that he wouldn't lie to her, like he was lying to everyone else.

She wasn't sure what was going to happen after this, but for now, she'd stand by her friend, and do whatever she could to help him.

"I need to show you something," Oliver said, standing up and offering his hand.

It probably had something to do with the vigilante business, but she still had to fight a blush when she put her hand in his and followed him to his room.

He pulled a small brown book out of a hidden compartment and handed it over. I looked like it had been through hell, but the names inside were still legible. "I was wondering how you knew which douchebags to target," she muttered as she leafed through it.

"My father didn't die on the boat," he said suddenly.

Felicity looked up, shocked. "What?"

"He made it to a raft with me and another crewmate," he said, avoiding her eyes. "There wasn't enough food or water for the three of us, so my father pulled out a gun and shot the crewmate. He then told me he wasn't the man I thought he was, and that he'd failed our city… He told me to survive and then put a bullet through his head."

Felicity gasped. "Oh my god. Oliver, I'm so sorry."

Something about his expression told Felicity that maybe seeing his father kill himself hadn't been the worst thing that had happened to him.

"The book was his, written in invisible ink. I kept it with me, knowing that one day, I'd return here to right his wrongs."

She wanted to tell him that it wasn't his job to correct his father's mistakes, but perhaps he needed this. So she just nodded. "Who else know? That you're…" she trailed off.

"You. And Diggle, though he doesn't know about my father," he replied readily.

"You told your bodyguard?"

Oliver started pacing. He looked like a caged tiger, ready to strike. How the hell hadn't she seen that before?

"I need an ally in this, Felicity. I can't do it by myself, and I need someone who can take care of themselves."

She wanted to argue that she could be his ally, but if someone came after her, she'd be useless, so she kept her mouth shut. "Speaking of which, can I use your phone to send him a message? They took mine."

Felicity blinked at the request, but handed it over. Oliver had already memorized his bodyguard's phone number? "I thought you said he'd turned you down? I'm assuming you were talking about this?"

Oliver glanced up, a small smile on his lips. "He did. He saw my side of the story and came onboard today."

Well. At least they weren't alone in this.

/*/

Felicity didn't stay for Oliver's meeting with Mr. Diggle.

She did, however, show up for the party. Normally, she would have properly dressed up - she loved costume parties - but knowing the kind of people Oliver was bound to have invited, she'd decided to go for a more casual look of overalls with the number '24601' on the shirt she wore underneath. Not that anyone would get the reference, but still.

Thea - in an appropriately tight orange dress meant to emulate a prison uniform - told her Oliver was in his room getting ready, so she headed straight there.

When she entered - without knocking, because she was an idiot - Oliver just about to put on a shirt, giving Felicity an unimpeded view of his chest. Normally, she would have blushed and salivated over his abs, but she just stared. There were scars everywhere, not to mention two tattoos that she could see.

"Felicity," Oliver said, and quickly pulled the shirt on. Before he could button up, though, she stepped closer and halted his hands. She kept her eyes on his chest, tracing the lines marring his skin. When she followed the one that looked like something took a huge bit out of him, he stiffened a little. She suddenly realized that that one covered his whole hip, including underneath his pants.

She abruptly stepped back, her face flushing. "I- I'm sorry, I didn't… I mean I knew you had scars, but…" she trailed off. Oliver didn't say anything as he buttoned the shirt back up. "I shouldn't have done that," she muttered.

"It's okay," he said quietly.

"No, it's not. You must feel like a zoo animal or something with me gawking like that," she said.

The corner of Oliver's lip quirked upwards. "Gawking, huh? See something you like?" he teased lightly.

She had already been blushing, but with his comment, it went up another notch. Felicity decided to take a breath and handle this like an adult instead of a schoolgirl with a crush. "Yes, actually. You," she said, and she could tell that Oliver was taken aback. "I care about you, Oliver, and I can't even imagine…" she trailed off, looking at his chest again, even though it was now covered by the shirt. After a moment, she looked back up. "But I couldn't help notice that some of those scars are really straight. Like they were made with a knife or something."

Something hardened in his eyes, and Felicity knew he didn't want to talk about this. "I wasn't entirely honest when I said I was on that island alone." A lie, yes, but not one he'd actually ever said to her face, she'd just assumed it. So, he hadn't broken his promise not to lie to her. "There were men there, and they tortured me."

Once again, Felicity was left speechless. She had been unable to imagine the hell he'd gone through before, but with this new information… Just how much had he had to live through?

"I don't… I can't talk about it. One day, I'll tell you everything, I promise. Just… not for a while yet."

She nodded. "That's all I ask."

/*/

Knowing Oliver was the vigilante and knowing it, were not the same thing.

After mingling for about Fifteen minutes, Felicity grew uncomfortable around all the drunk idiots Oliver and Tommy had invited. She'd hung out with the latter for a while, kept an eye on Thea to make sure she wasn't drinking too much, and eventually had retreated to Oliver's room to read. She'd brought her tablet - naturally - and was reading a book on it.

Oliver and Laurel had come in late in the evening to talk some legal stuff, but they'd paid her no mind. Or hadn't noticed her, that was possible, too. She was, after all, kind of hidden in a back corner, where the noise from downstairs bothered her the least.

After Laurel left with a promise that she'd get Oliver off these charges, Felicity sat up.

"How long have you been sitting there?" Oliver asked, turning around. He didn't look surprised, which made Felicity think that maybe he'd noticed her anyway.

"Uhm. An hour maybe?" she replied, getting up and stuffing her tablet in her purse.

He grinned at her. He was doing that a lot more, lately. "How's the book?"

"Awful. I think everyone's going to die, and I only have two chapters left to read," she replied with an equally broad grin.

Oliver snorted. "I'm sure you'll find a way to survive."

Felicity sat down. She froze for a second when she realized she'd sat down on Oliver's bed, but then shook it off. There was no need to be embarrassed, it was only a piece of furniture. "Any word from Mr. Diggle?"

As he opened his mouth to reply, his phone went off. Oliver checked the caller id. "Speak of the devil," he muttered, before picking up. He listened to the reply, before nodding to Felicity. So Mr. Diggle had succeeded in his mission.

There was a knock at the door.

"Yeah?" Oliver called.

"Mr. Queen, if you're entertaining guests upstairs, should I have some drinks sent up?" the man at the other side of the door asked. One of the waiters.

Oliver glanced at Felicity, but she shook her head, indicating that she was okay. "No, I'll be right down," he said, getting up.

Felicity beat him to the door, but froze at the sight of a gun pointed straight at her. Oliver reacted more quickly. He shoved her aside, into the wall and engaged the armed man. Felicity was a bit dazed from the push, but quickly jumped aside when the fighting registered. Oliver was… she couldn't even describe it. He moved so quickly, countering every strike aimed at him. It didn't even matter that the other guy was armed.

Oliver shoved the man over the couch, rolling with him and smashing the coffee table, before performing a move that seemed more fitting for a kung fu movie or something. The guy had managed to climb to his feet at the same time as Oliver, but the latter backhanded him. But then the man had somehow found his gun and was aiming it at Oliver. At the sound of gunshots, Felicity closed her eyes and screamed.

"Felicity!" Oliver whispered, his hands on her shoulders. She looked up to see that he was unharmed, and instantly flung herself into his arms. "You're okay, you're fine," he whispered into her hair.

"Might want to revise that statement," detective Lance said.

As Felicity let Oliver go, she finally noticed a sting in her arm. Oliver was looking at it intently. "Just grazed you," he muttered, but there was something in his eyes that screamed 'furious'.

She cupped his cheek, forcing him to look her in the eye. "Hey. I'm okay. It barely hurts." That last bit was a lie. Now that the adrenaline was wearing off and she could focus on the wound, it really hurt.

"I'll send for a medic," Lance said, and stepped out of the room.

Oliver helped Felicity up and led her to the bed. He grabbed one of his clean shirts and pressed it over the wound. "Keep pressure on that, I'll go send everyone home," he said gently, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. Felicity nodded numbly.

Almost as soon as he left, Thea and Tommy barged into the room, followed closely by Laurel. "I saw my dad," she said. "What happened?"

Thea, seeing the blood, blanched and rushed to sit beside Felicity, peeking under the shirt, before pushing the blonde's hand away and keeping pressure herself.

"Someone tried to kill Oliver," she said numbly. "I got shot."

"You what?" Tommy exclaimed, coming to crouch in front of her. "Are you okay?" he asked, peering at the shirt that was slowly getting soaked.

"It's fine, it's just a graze."

"That hardly makes it fine," Oliver said as he strode back into the room. Thea quickly made room for her brother on the bed, moving to stand by Laurel. The older Queen sibling was carrying a first aid kit, and Felicity vaguely wondered where he'd learned to administer it, but dismissed the thought. With the stupid things he and Tommy used to get into, she supposed it was a skill he'd had to pick up.

"I'll got talk to my dad, sort this out," Laurel said. "I'm glad you're okay," she added, looking at Felicity, before making her way out of the room.

"As am I, but I should go make sure those two don't start a screaming match in your living room," Tommy said, standing up. "You hang in there, Smoaky," he said, giving her knee a squeeze.

Oliver didn't say anything, choosing to focus on binding her wound. "It should heal fine, I don't think you'll have a scar."

"You can trust him on that, he's the expert on scars," Thea said, finally regaining some of her wry humor.

"Oh, I know," Felicity replied, thinking of what she'd seen on his torso earlier that evening.

But, of course she hadn't thought that sentence through, until Thea raised a suggestive eyebrow. "Seen my brother without clothes, lately?" she asked teasingly.

Well, actually yes. But Thea didn't need to know that, she'd just draw the wrong conclusions. "Not like that, Speedy," Oliver replied in her place. "We're just friends."

Ouch.

Despite having said the exact same thing a hundred times before, it hurt coming from Oliver's lips. It was so silly to let a stupid thing like that get to her, but she couldn't help herself. But she also knew that she couldn't really show that to her present company.

Luckily, Thea seemed to have grown bored of the conversation and got up. "I'll go get some ice for your hand," she said, gesturing to Oliver's reddened knuckles.

"Actually, Felicity and I'll join you downstairs. No need to have everyone trooping into my bedroom every time they want to see if we're alright," Oliver said, getting up slowly.

Thea nodded and headed outside, and Felicity got up to do the same, but Oliver stopped her. "Felicity."

"Yes?" she said quietly.

"I'm… very glad you're okay," he said, matching her volume.

She smiled softly. "Well, I had a pretty awesome protector," she said. For a moment, they just looked at each other, and Felicity could have sworn that there was a connection between them. And then she realized that she was just staring into Oliver's eyes like a lovesick puppy, and took a step back. "Seriously though, can you teach me that move you did to swipe that guy's legs out from under him? I'd totally love to be able to do that," she joked.

Oliver grinned. "How about I teach you how to throw a punch first, huh?"

Felicity moved towards the door, knowing he would follow. "Hey, I can totally punch someone! Not that I've ever done it before, but if some creep came up to me, I'd definitely at least smack him. Does that count as hitting someone? Because I've done that before…"

Oliver laughed, and it sounded as genuine as any laugh she'd heard from him lately. Yeah, they'd be okay, vigilantism and all.

A/N: Longer chapter than usual (a little over 3k words), I hope no one minds ;)

Please let me know what you think about it, and see you next time!