Hey everyone! Don't hate me! I really didn't mean to cliffie you guys! Maybe I need to write the rest of the thing out before posting anymore but… probably won't do that. I did get a HUGE lecture from my daughter about needing to write more (finish). She was pretty mad I ended it where I did with no chapter lined up to save everyone some heartache. Poor thing doesn't know I torture you guys like this often.
The song for this chapter is Unsteady by X Ambassadors.
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Chapter Eleven: Unsteady
To say that Felicity's last phone call hadn't completely unnerved Barry would be a lie.
He couldn't get over to her apartment fast enough, uttering speedy apologies to his date and hesitating only a moment, regret filling him because he liked Kara. He knew he would have to do some major explaining later but the complete and utter brokenness in Felicity's sob strangled voice had spurred him into action with little care for the consequences that would come later. She'd only managed to get out a single word before the line was only filled with heart wrenching sobs and the sounds of Norah's wails. He sped through the city, barely caring that he was breaking a dozen traffic laws. Once he got to Felicity and Oliver's apartment, he all but flew to the door, pounding on it and waiting tensely. When no answer came, he tested the knob and it turned easily so he moved into the apartment, unprepared for the sight that met him. Felicity was clutching Norah and they were both sobbing uncontrollably. He moved into the apartment, briefly noting Oliver's absence.
"Felicity," he said firmly. "What happened? Lis?" His unease grew as she remained unresponsive to his voice. He finally reached out his hand and touched her arm gently. She looked up at him with tearful, broken eyes and then buried her face in his shoulder, her sobs renewed afresh. He fought down the panic that instinctively bubbled up inside his throat like acid and put an arm around her shoulders, reaching the other out to stroke Norah's head in an attempt to calm her. He heard himself muttering soothing words and reassurances in an attempt to calm down his best friend and her daughter.
Norah stopped crying first. Her energies were spent and she faded into a quiet slumber, a small frown pulling between her brows even in sleep, her hand curled into his shirt firmly until it relaxed. When Felicity had stopped crying enough that he didn't worry about leaving her alone, he leaned her back against the couch and carried Norah into her crib, placing her gently on the mattress and covering her up. He closed the door behind him and kneeled in front of Felicity, whose eyes were focused blankly on the carpet behind him.
"Felicity, I need you to tell me what is going on," he said slowly and quietly. She continued to look past him and his mind moved quickly through what of the situation he knew about before landing on the obvious. "Lis, where is Oliver? Why isn't Oliver here," he asked her and at the mention of Oliver's name her eyes flew to his and began to fill with tears.
"He's gone," she whispered, voice breaking.
"Where, Felicity? Where did he go?" His mind immediately moved to anger, unwilling to believe that Oliver had left them but unable to account for another explanation. Oliver loved Norah and Felicity. He was devoted. But if he hadn't left them, where had he gone?
"You can't tell anyone," she said lowly, fiercely, eyes shining with her unshed tears.
"Okay," he said slowly, uncomprehendingly. She grabbed his hands, squeezing with a surprising strength.
"No, Barry, no one can know about this. It is a matter of life and death." She stared him down until he nodded. "Oliver is on his way to Russia." Barry sucked in a breath and then frowned, freezing in confusion.
"Russia? Why is he going to Russia? What is going on?" She took a deep breath.
"Oliver spent some time working for A.R.G.U.S. as a sleeper operative in the Russian mafia." Barry waited for her to laugh or smile, some indication that this was a huge joke but her face remained stony and serious.
"Oliver was a spy," he asked, trying to keep the skepticism out of his voice.
"Yes. I don't know every detail. He only told me a little." And she proceeded to tell him of Oliver's exploits in the Bratva, his ascension in the ranks and the unexpected visit of Digg and Lyla that day asking him for his help. Barry listened numbly, head full of hundreds of thoughts as she explained the imminent danger to their city and Oliver's determination to fix it. Once she had finished, they sat in silence as he processed this overload of information -unbelievable information at that.
"Should you even be telling me this," he asked after his head had cleared enough to form coherent thoughts.
"I doubt it but I don't care," she said fervently. "The man that I love just left on an incredibly dangerous mission to place himself among a group of people that will torture and kill him if they discover his true motives. I need my best friend. If they don't like it, they can suck it." Barry nodded.
"Okay. So what do we do now," he asked her. She shook her head.
"I don't know what to do. I have to believe he's coming home but I don't know anything. I'm in the dark," she said, voice dark with anger and the ghost of a smile lit his face; Felicity hated not knowing what was going on.
"Oliver knows what he's doing right," Barry asked, still trying to reconcile to dorky, wealthy boyfriend of his best friend to a spy. Felicity shrugged half heartedly.
"I suppose. It's been awhile but they wouldn't have asked if they didn't think he could do it." Barry considered this before standing up suddenly.
"Well then we need to decide what we are going to do. What do you want to tell people?" Felicity stared up at him before closing her eyes, taking a deep breath and straightening her spine. He recognized the actions as her ritual to detaching herself. She had done this a thousand times before delving into a particularly hard problem and he was reminded briefly of a young, freckle faced Felicity doing the same thing after her father left before resolving to step in and take over responsibilities in the Smoak household. When her eyes opened, he could already see her calculating and moving through a thousand scenarios and solutions. She stood and began pacing as she worked through the thoughts until she settled on the viable options.
"If anyone asks, we tell them Oliver had to take care of some personal business. We don't say more and anyone who pries will feel like an ass. We keep living like we believe it," she said with determination and he knew she was telling herself more than him that this was the way things were now.
"What do you need from me," he asked, knowing that despite her brave face this resolve and fierceness would ebb and the longer that Oliver was gone, the more likely cracks would form in her hard mask to make room for the sorrow to creep through and put down roots.
"I'm fine, Barry," she assured him. "You don't need to give up any more of your time to deal with… well, this," she said gesturing to herself in self deprecation. Barry walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders.
"I know you, Felicity," he said and put a hand to her mouth when she tried to argue. "I know you better than anyone. So if you think for one second that I am going to leave you to handle this alone, you should know me better." He waited until she nodded and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, head resting on his chest.
"Love you, Flash," she whispered quietly. His arms folded around her and he kissed her hair.
"Love you too, Lis. Everything will be okay," he promised her. He felt himself wanting to believe the assurance but as he thought about the reality of what was happening, he wondered if bigger heartbreak was coming for his friend and her daughter.
