Author's Note: A big hello to all my new readers and a welcome back to those who followed this since Chapter 1. Thank you for all the lovely reviews from last chapter. We're going to see more into Oliver's time into the military in this one and I hope you all like what I've done with it :)
Felicity's party outfit can be found on my Polyvore account.
….
Chapter 5: These Scars are the Keys to Unlock My Past
"You got me a what?"
"A body guard. This is John Diggle, my former commanding officer in the Army."
Oliver stands outside Felicity's bedroom door with Diggle behind him, who is clearly trying to keep his amusement from showing after seeing the look of incredulity on Felicity's face. She stands in her doorway, arms crossed in front of her chest and leaning against the doorpost.
"You hired an officer in the Army to be my bodyguard?"
"Yes. I trust this man with my life and yours. He has the training and is starting up a local personal security business. I figured this would be a good start."
"I'm sorry but I'm still a little stuck on the fact that you went and hired someone to basically stalk me 24/7 without asking me about it first."
He's not surprised that she snapped at him. She has been distant since the attempt on her life two nights ago. He should be happy about this, it's what he wanted, to keep her at arms length and away from his inappropriate reactions to her. But it still leaves him feeling slightly unsettled, an empty feeling in his gut like someone sucker punched him.
"Whoever tried to kill you might still be out there. This way you'll have someone to protect you at all times."
"Oliver, I am seventeen. I don't need a babysitter."
"I know that. He's not here to tell you what to do, only to keep you safe."
"Incase you haven't noticed, the mansion has round the clock security as does QC. Seeing as those are the only two places I frequent, I'd say I'm pretty safe already."
"I've seen the security at Queen Consolidated. It could definitely use some work."
They stand in a silent stare off, both waiting for the other to break. But Oliver is stubborn and Felicity is even more so and Diggle is the one to ultimately break the silence.
"If I may interrupt your showdown of wills. Miss Smoak, I promise you will barely even notice I'm with you. I understand the situation you're in and until the perpetrator is found it would be in your best interest to have someone around to watch your back."
Felicity sighs in resignation and lets her arms fall to her sides.
"I don't really have a choice in the matter, do I?"
Her question is full of reluctant acceptance.
"Of course you do, but I would hope that you would see that I'm just trying to keep you safe."
"Fine. But he doesn't come in my room or touch my computers, got it? There are some things a girl needs to keep sacred."
"Of course, Miss Smoak. Whatever you are comfortable with."
"And please, call me Felicity."
"Then you can call me Diggle. It's a pleasure to meet you, Felicity." Digg holds out his hand to give hers a firm shake.
"Right, it's nice meeting you, too. And thank you, for agreeing to look out for me. I don't want to seem unappreciative of the commitment you just made." There's a pause in the conversation then before Felicity continues. "Well if you don't mind I was in the middle of getting ready for Thea's party in a few hours so..."
Right, the party. For some reason Oliver's sister thought that throwing a party while their parents were out for the night on business would be a great idea. They had hired extra security for the event, just incase, and staff were taking names both at the gate and the front door. Still, Oliver was nervous and as a result would be staying in to monitor the party despite Thea's protests. It wasn't likely that anyone would try to harm Felicity only two days after the first attempt but Oliver was not okay with taking any chances.
"Sure. Digg and I will be down the hall in the office, discussing some of your security details. If you need anything let us know."
"Okay. Bye."
Felicity shuts the door in his face before Oliver can say anything else.
"Do I want to know what that was about?"
Diggle was always one of the most perceptive ones in his unit.
"Probably not. Come on, the study is this way."
As they make their way down the hall Oliver can see his friend cataloging their surroundings. He had sent Digg blueprints of the house after talking to him on the phone yesterday so he could familiarize himself with the property.
Once they enter the study, Oliver makes sure to firmly close the door before they begin.
"What do you know about her attacker that I don't?"
Like he said, Digg is observant.
"The police said it was the Italian mob so I did some research. I think he was one of Bertinelli's men."
"Frank Bertinelli? The supposed mob boss? What does a young, sweet girl like Felicity have to do with him?"
"I think it has less to do with Felicity than it does with her mother."
"You think someone is going after her for leverage? Do we know if Karen was involved with him?"
The question brings up Oliver's irritation on the subject.
"I don't have any solid proof, just a hunch. The police can't even pin Bertinelli to the mob officially. I would need some sort of access to bank accounts and personal files for that. I pulled some strings at the precinct, got a copy of the crime scene report. Here, take a look."
Oliver hands a folder with the police report over to Diggle who begins to read through it. The evidence, what little there is, all points to the mob as responsible for the hit. However, they find nothing that can help them to determine a motive or who exactly the shooter was. Without access to private files, they have nothing to help them draw up a connection between Karen Smoak and Frank Bertinelli and after hours of pouring over what little information they have, Oliver's frustration is evident.
"There's nothing we can do until we get our hands on the files for Karen's case."
"I'll see what I can do. But in the mean time, I believe you have a party to chaperone."
Oliver can hear the amusement in Diggle's voice.
"When did I become old enough to be considered the responsible adult?"
"It sneaks up on you."
….
Three hours later Oliver is kicking teenagers out of places they shouldn't be in and wondering what horrible thing he did to deserve this. Walking into Thea's room he finds his sister with the top half of her dress pushed down around her waist and her legs on either side of some boy on her bed. Oliver can't see the kid's hands.
"Thea!"
The pair break apart and Thea scrambles to pull her dress up as the boy tries to make himself presentable.
"God, Ollie, knock much?"
It's obvious that she's angry with Oliver for the interruption but he really couldn't care less at the moment. He turns to glare at the boy and watches him visibly shrink.
"Who are you?"
The kid, who thirty seconds ago had his tongue down his baby sister's throat and his hand up her skirt, stands abruptly.
"Shane, sir."
"Hey, Shane?"
"Yeah?"
"Get out."
"Right, okay, leaving. Later, Thea."
Shane quickly grabs his phone off of the bed and hightails it out the door and down the hall.
"Call me!" Thea's voice is casual, flirty as she bids goodbye to the kid before turning to face Oliver. "Really, big brother?"
"Thea, that boy is no good. I knew guys like that when I was your age. Hell, I was one."
"Right, which is exactly why you shouldn't be saying anything about my personal choices."
Thea's arms cross in front of her in defiance, hip popped to one side as she scowls at Oliver.
"I'm just trying to protect you."
"Yeah well, I didn't have your protection the last five years and I'm doing just fine so I don't think I need it now either."
With that Thea storms out of the room, leaving Oliver similarly frustrated. He has been trying to make amends with her since their fight when he came back. She had seemed to forgive him after the ill-fated celebration the other night but apparently he was wrong.
Sighing to himself, Oliver leaves Thea's room to return to the party. He hasn't been gone long but he knows from experience that things can go south quickly at gatherings like these. Walking through the hall, Oliver pauses when he hears soft cries and sniffling coming from one of the rooms.
The sight that greets him when he opens the door causes his heart to clench. Felicity is curled up on one of the chairs in the library, clutching her arms around her midsection like she's holding herself together. One hand reaches up to push her hair away from her face and wipes at her tears.
"Felicity?"
Her head swivels towards Oliver where he is standing in the doorway and she quickly jumps up from her seat, pulling on the hem of her yellow skirt and situating the light blue lace top she's wearing.
"Oh, hi, Oliver!"
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah everything is good. I'm good. The party is good. It's all good."
Felicity offers him a weak smile but can't help the small tear from slipping out. She reaches up to quickly get rid of it and draws in a long breath through her nose before letting it escape her parted lips.
Oliver walks over and lightly places a comforting hand on her bare shoulder.
"Felicity, tell me what's wrong."
"It's nothing."
"Don't say that when you're obviously upset. Tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."
She looks away from Oliver, taking a deep breath in and blowing it out slowly in an effort to compose herself.
"It's stupid. Don't worry about it."
"If it makes you this upset then it isn't stupid." He can still see the reluctance in her stance so he gestures with his head towards the door. "Come on."
Oliver leads Felicity down the hall with a hand hovering over the small of her back.
Whatever it is that's upsetting her, he is determined to fix. Gently, he pushes the mahogany door to his room open and motions for her to go in first. Her hesitation is not lost on him and for a moment Oliver thinks she'll turn away. The last time they were in here his actions put her on edge, made her uncomfortable. He wouldn't blame her for walking away.
But she doesn't and after a moment Felicity walks past him and into the room. He shuts the door behind them before making his way over to his closet. Grabbing one of his Army sweatshirts Oliver returns to find her perched on the chair next to his couch. He doesn't miss how her avoidance of that particular piece of furniture causes them to sit separately, distancing them from each other.
"Here, you looked cold."
Oliver hands her the article of clothing, which she surprisingly accepts, slipping it over her head and pulling it down her body before kicking off her sandals and tucking her feet under her body.
"Thanks."
The sweatshirt is about five times too big for Felicity. The sleeves cover her hands and the bottom of it reaches past the hemline of her skirt. It gives the illusion that the only thing she has on right now is his sweatshirt. A wave of heat and possessiveness crashes over him, his hands clench to keep from reaching out and doing something he will regret. Right now this is about comforting Felicity.
"So, what happened?"
She bites her lip in hesitation, looking down at her hands and playing with the ring on her finger.
"God, this is going to sound so dumb and trivial when I say it out loud."
He doubts that. Anything that makes her upset like this would never be "dumb" or "trivial" to him.
"I still want to hear it."
"Ugh, it's just this guy." Oliver stiffens immediately. "His name is Ed and he goes to MIT with me. I met him in my one business class I took my second semester. Which, why I have to take a business class as a Computer Science and Programming major I'm not entirely sure. I guess it's good to learn how to sell my services and myself to others. As in my computer skills! Not like sell myself on the corner or anything. Although I bet that makes good money and in cash so yay for no taxes."
"Felicity." He says her name gently, to remind her of the explanation she was supposed to be giving.
"Right, sorry. So I met Ed and he was really sweet. We went on a few dates but ultimately decided to stay friends. But, uhm, he's from around here and home for the summer and I mentioned him to Thea so I guess she thought it would be a good idea to invite him tonight." She pauses to take a breath before continuing. "And it was good to see him, at first. We started talking and catching up and it was nice. Until he started getting really close, really touchy feely."
Oliver is going to find this kid and beat him to a pulp.
"He didn't physically do anything to me but I told him he was making me uncomfortable. He, uh, said something really nasty to me that I never expected to hear from him and it hurt a lot more than I thought it would."
"What did he say to you?"
"Uhm, he just made fun of me for being, uh, God this is really awkward, he said something about my sexual inexperience, that's all."
Two things hit Oliver nearly simultaneously after her confession. First, he wants to find this Ed kid and murder him for what he did to Felicity. He could do it, too. Years of Army training taught him a thing or twenty about how to kill a person. The second thing that Oliver realizes is that Felicity more or less just admitted to him that she is a virgin or at least limited in experience when it comes to sex. He really is a creepy old man.
His fists clench in anger at this Ed kid and disgust at himself.
"Is he still here?" The words escape Oliver in an intimidating growl.
"No. I got him a cab to go home. He was really drunk. I don't think he ever would have said that to me if he was sober." A tear makes its way down Felicity's cheek before she brushes at it and turns her head away from Oliver. "I mean I know I'm not the most experienced ever but we still did stuff together, just because we didn't have sex…"
She trails off and wraps her arms around herself.
"Hey, anyone who puts you down for that reason is a jerk on a level all his own and not worth your tears. Felicity, you're remarkable. Don't let anyone tell you or make you feel differently."
Oliver wants to reach out for her. He wants to comfort her and make sure she knows that she's so much better than that asshole. But he can't because she very clearly put a distance between them and he isn't going to cross that and make her uncomfortable when she's already upset. Her trust and honesty with him is more important. It's always been easy for Oliver to open up to Felicity. He wants her to feel the same way with him.
The sound of something shattering in the hall breaks the silence.
"I guess I should go take care of that. You can stay in here if you would like, watch a movie or something. I'm pretty sure there's some ice cream leftover in the mini fridge."
"Mint chip?"
"Of course."
That earns him a small smile from her.
"Then how could I resist?"
"I'll be back as soon as whatever just happened is straightened out. You'll be okay in here?"
Felicity is already standing to make her way over to where the ice cream is.
"I think I can manage." He's halfway out the door when she calls to him. "Hey Oliver?"
Turning around he sees her standing by the couch, ice cream in hand and body swimming in his sweatshirt. One of her hands reaches up to timidly tuck a piece of golden hair behind her ear.
"Thank you."
"It was nothing. I'll be back soon."
With that Oliver goes to see what damage control he can do, closing the dorm firmly behind him. He also finds Digg and asks him to keep an eye on his room.
….
Soon ends up being two hours later once the last of the partygoers have gone home for the evening. Oliver finally makes his way up the grand staircase and down the long hallway to his bedroom where he finds Diggle standing watch.
"Is Felicity still in there?"
He had been so sure that she would have gone back to her room by now.
"Yeah. She fell asleep and I didn't want to move her until necessary."
Digg and his wife, Lyla, were both members of the U.S. Army. They didn't have children of their own but Oliver can remember him talking about his nephew AJ with great fondness. He has always had a sort of big brother attitude towards those he cares about and it is quickly becoming obvious that Felicity is no exception to that rule, even if they only just met. Oliver doesn't blame him. She has this air about her that makes people want to protect her and shelter her from everything bad in the world. For Oliver that sometimes includes himself and his baser urges where she's concerned.
"Leave her. She's had a rough couple of days. You are more than welcome to stay in one of the guest bedrooms tonight."
"Thanks, Queen. I think I'll take you up on that offer."
"Do you need me to show you the way?"
"No, unlike this one guy I know I actually study blueprints when they're given to me."
"One time and I never hear the end of it."
Oliver laughs and Digg joins him, for once remembering the good times instead of what sent them both home.
"Alright, man, get some rest. Dealing with teenagers isn't easy work either."
Digg claps Oliver on the back before heading down the hall and turning the corner into the guest wing.
Silently opening the door, Oliver enters his room. The TV is off, he suspects Digg must have done that, and there's an empty carton of ice cream sitting on the wooden table in front of the couch. Felicity lies across it, wrapped tightly in a huge fleece and velvet blanket and clutching a pillow she must have stolen off of his bed. The couch itself is big enough that she could stretch out and still have more than enough room but she's curled into herself. Lying there fast asleep she looks young, innocent. It makes Oliver that much more disgusted with himself for the uncontrollable feelings he has been having about her. For a second he debates moving her to the bed while he takes the couch, but he doesn't want to wake her or invade her personal space when she's so vulnerable so he decides against it.
Quickly grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt from one of his drawers, Oliver walks into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. Changing in his room and risk Felicity waking up while he's doing so is not something he is going to chance.
Once he's gone through his nightly routine, Oliver slips out of the bathroom and checks on Felicity one more time before crawling into bed.
For once sleep consumes him quickly
….
"You shouldn't have come here without back up."
"I did come with back up. I have Slade."
"You know what I mean. Does the Sargent even know you're here?"
His silence is the only answer she needs.
"Oliver, this is dangerous. You and Slade need to leave. Come back with the unit once you've come up with a plan."
"I'm not leaving here without you."
Suddenly there's a commotion coming from outside the room they're in.
"You need to go or they'll kill you and Slade, too! Get out of here, Oliver!"
"I can't – "
Someone bursts through the door and Oliver aims his gun right at the man's chest, finger on the trigger.
"It's just me kid but we need to go."
"Her restraints aren't done yet."
"What do you mean they're not done? You had a minute! Damn it."
Quickly the two soldiers work to release their fellow comrade just as guards begin to round the corner.
"Time to go."
The three soldiers run out into the hall, Oliver handing her one of his extra guns. Slade covers their backs as they make their escape.
"Which way?"
"Down the hall, second right, first left, then fourth room down on the right."
They're halfway down the second hall when Oliver hears her scream as she falls to the ground with a thud, clutching her abdomen and stirring up dirt that dries out his throat and causes his eyes to water. He stops to help her up but she yells in pain at the movement.
Suddenly they're surrounded and the shots stop firing.
"Oliver, go."
She pants out the words in agony as blood stains her already soiled clothes a dark red, almost black and seeps onto her hands.
"No."
"Oliver!"
There's a loud bang and a searing pain in his chest. Looking down he sees his own blood spring forth from his chest in an imitation of some sick, demented flower.
Bewildered, Oliver reaches down to touch his wound but his hand comes away clean.
"I don't understand."
The room spins and suddenly it's filled with the sounds of screams. High pitched, hysterical shrieks of pain and low gasps of torment. They swirl around him like ghosts, impossible to see but their presence all-consuming. It overwhelms him until it's the only thing he knows; screeches of torture and anguish and loss, and he can't distinguish one voice from the other anymore.
"Stop! Please! Make it stop! Stop! STOP!"
"Stop! Oliver, wake up! "
He grabs the hands on his shoulders and pushes whoever it is down onto the bed, pinning them with his lower body on their legs and slamming their hands to the mattress.
"Oliver, look at me. It's me. It's Felicity. You are okay. Everything is okay."
The sound of her voice pulls him back to the edge of rationality.
"You were dreaming, okay? It was just a dream. Look at me."
And he does. His blue eyes meet hers and it brings him clarity. He scrambles off of her and the bed entirely in record time, staring at Felicity in horror. Now she probably thinks that not only is he a creep but also a violent monster. She must be terrified of him. He doesn't know what to say, what to do. But he doesn't have to because Felicity is walking towards him slowly.
"Oliver? It's okay you didn't hurt me."
Hesitantly, she reaches out to lightly place a hand in the inside of his elbow.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
He shakes his head no.
"Okay, why don't you sit down on the bed? I'll be right back."
Felicity waits for confirmation that he heard her before she scurries out of the room.
Oliver begins to calm himself down. This isn't the first time that his dreams have woken him like this and it won't be the last. When five minutes pass and Felicity doesn't return Oliver has resigned himself to the fact that he's finally scared her off for good, until she comes back in with a cup of something steaming and delicious smelling in her hands.
"Here, drink this."
He accepts the mug from her outstretched hands and brings it to his mouth. She climbs onto the other side of the bed to face him, sitting with her legs crossed and her hands in her lap. The taste of cream and chocolate floods his taste buds as he drags a sip from the mug.
"It's hot cocoa. It used to help my dad with his nightmares."
"Thank you."
They sit in silence as he drinks. She has a look of concentration on her face, studying Oliver. It makes him slightly uncomfortable so he avoids eye contact choosing instead to stare down at the warm liquid in the mug.
"You know it's not uncommon, right? To have nightmares after coming back from the war? My dad, when he came back after his first tour, he used to have them. I remember one night I snuck into my parents' room; I must have had a bad dream or something. I walked in and my dad was crying and I didn't understand. He was my dad; strong, brave, funny, a soldier in every sense of the word. I thought he was invincible, that nothing could ever scare him. But there he was, crying and holding on to my mom like he was drowning and she was his life vest, the only thing keeping him from getting pulled under. I remember crawling into bed with them and hugging him tightly, thinking I could chase away the monsters that made him cry. I asked him about them so that we could think of ways to make them go away. Of course looking back, it wasn't that simple, but I think it was what he needed because he started talking again. He started to tell stories about what happened. He would change details and make them into these elaborate fairytales so that he wouldn't scare four-year-old me but I understood, at a certain level, and even though I was so young and was in no position to help, I think opening up was good for him."
By the time she's finished, tears have made their way to her eyes. She pulls the sleeve of Oliver's sweatshirt over the heel of her hand and uses it to dab at them.
"Sorry, it's been ten years since he died in his second tour but it's still hard to talk about him sometimes. The point is you don't have to go through this by yourself, Oliver. You're not alone. I'm not saying you have to open up and tell your deepest, darkest secrets and fears, but even sharing a little bit might make it slightly easier to bear."
She speaks with sincerity; concern and kindness shining in her bright blue, watery eyes.
It's times like these when Oliver forgets how young Felicity is. She's so intelligent and speaks with maturity beyond her nearly eighteen years. When he was her age all Oliver cared about was girls and partying and Thea. Topics anywhere near this depth were avoided at all costs. Even now, talking doesn't come easy to him, granted for much different reasons than those of his young adolescent self. But here Felicity is, talking about her late father and still being the one to offer comfort. She's so much stronger than him and he pulls from that strength.
"Can I show you something?"
He's not ready to talk about his most prominent nightmares, but he can share one piece of his pain with her.
"Of course."
Reaching for the hem of his shirt Oliver pauses. For a moment he contemplates forgetting this whole thing once he realizes that showing her this is going to put her into close contact with his bare skin.
"It's okay if you're not ready, Oliver."
Then he turns away and pulls his shirt up and over his head. He can hear Felicity's sharp intake of breathe as she catches sight of the scars on his back and makes no move to turn back around to face her. Sitting in silence he lets her take in the angry scaring and mottled skin of his back. There's a gentle pressure on his shoulder and he jumps slightly at the contact.
"Sorry." Felicity apologizes quietly and pulls her hand away.
"No, it's okay. I just wasn't expecting it. You can…" He trails off, letting her finish the sentence mentally.
Felicity reaches back out to place the tips of her fingers on his right shoulder blade. Gently her fingers trace diagonally across his back, following the puckered skin down to the bottom of his left ribcage. Her touch is light but it burns where she touches, like she's branding him with her fingers.
This isn't like the brief, indistinct wandering of hands he experienced with Sara after his homecoming. That was frantic and there was a definite absence of deep emotion then, his scars barely visible in his darkened bedroom. Now, however, everything is laid bare in the moonlight for Felicity to see. He feels vulnerable but not weak, a coupling he always thought of as going hand in hand.
"How… if you don't mind me asking that is, how did this happen?"
She follows the scar back up to the top, leaving her hand to rest gently on his back. The warmth of it seeping into his skin steadies him.
"One of the camps I was stationed at was right outside of a small village that had accepted our aid. Some of the local children liked to pass a soccer ball we gave them around and sometimes we would play with them. Members from one of the oppressive Afghani groups were in the village one day and saw us. They were furious and came at the children to pull them away, some using violent force. I was trying to disarm one of the men who was waving a gun around when another guy came up behind me and sliced me with a blade."
Oliver tries to detach himself from the memory, to stay clinical in his explanation. But the frightened cries of the children still echo in his ears.
Felicity's hand travels back down the scar, palm flattening out this time in an almost soothing gesture. Her fingers then brush the side of his ribcage and he sucks in a breath. She lightly taps on the small, jagged white line there.
"What about this one?"
"Stab wound. This guy, he was mistreating a woman and I stepped in. It wasn't much of a fight but he had a knife and managed to get one in."
Again, her palm flattens over the scar for a moment. Then Oliver feels her shifting onto her knees behind him. He clenches his fists as the distance between them shrinks and he feels her let out a light puff of air. The warmth from it just kisses his pulse pointer. Her finger tips land on his left shoulder, sweeping over a red circular wound. This time, her fingers trace around the scar in a constant, spherical motion.
"Bullet wound?"
"9mm bullet, standard handgun. We were ambushed when searching through a village we assumed to be abandoned."
As she did with the previous two, Felicity presses her palm to the wound. However, this time she slides her hand down to rest on the smooth skin of his top left shoulder blade. He knows what she's going to ask about before she says it.
Quickly, Oliver pulls away and yanks his shirt on, covering the ink dragon on his back where her hand had been mere seconds ago.
"I'm not ready to talk about that just yet."
He turns to looks at her and finds her eyes full of understanding.
"Okay."
Felicity pushes herself back to rest against the headboard of the bed and pats the other side for Oliver to join her. He shifts to mirror her position in the space she indicating, making certain to leave a good foot of space in between them. He doesn't trust himself after feeling her hands on his bare skin. Even in a situation lacking sexual intent it set his body aflame. The need to feel her is stronger than it almost ever has been and he struggles to resist reaching out and crushing her body to his.
"Tell me about something good that happened."
For a second, Oliver is caught up by her question. Everyone always wanted to hear about his tough battles and war struggles. No one really asked him about the good times and he tended to forget about them amongst all of the bad.
"Like what?"
"Like how did you meet Mr. Diggle?"
"I actually knew him before I enlisted. It was pure coincidence that I ended up being assigned to his unit over in Afghanistan."
"Really? When?"
"Remember when I first met you? We had that awful brunch during which my parents threatened to cut me off?" She nods her head in assent before he continues. "Well I went out that night and, for lack of a better way to put it, got completely shitfaced. Tommy had the bail me out in the morning from the police station for assaulting an officer. Digg was in the station while I was waiting for Tommy to pay my bail. He was in uniform and I got this crazy idea to go talk to him. So I did. I asked him why he chose the Army and gave him a shallow summary of where I was in my life. But by the end of our brief conversation I was convinced that wasn't something I would ever go through with and I pretty much forgot all about it."
"So what changed your mind?"
"I was in a bar fight a couple of weeks later. Some guy was hitting on Laurel and making her uncomfortable. I tried to intervene and things got violent. I almost hospitalized the man because I was so angry. It wasn't just anger at him I was expelling. I was angry and my mom and my dad and where I was going in life, which was pretty much nowhere. That anger consumed me. By some crazy chance of fate Digg was there. He pulled me out and talked me down. He shared his story with me about how his brother had died in Special Forces and he was angry for a long time, hanging in a sort of free fall. Choosing the Army allowed him to channel those feelings he had of anger and lack of direction into something good, something he was proud of. Then I remembered something you had said to me that day we met. I don't know if you remember but after I said I didn't want to follow the path my parents had set for me you asked me what I wanted to do with my life. I told you I didn't know. You said to me that I should do what made me feel good about myself and what I was doing, that would make me happy and – "
"Happy and proud of yourself. I remember that. We were in the tree house, right? Well, I was. You were hanging on the ladder."
She smiles fondly at the memory and so does Oliver. Even then at age twelve Felicity had surprised him with her insight that went far beyond her years. He remembers being glad that Thea had a friend like her before he left, someone he knew would keep her out of trouble and look out for her no matter what.
"Right. So, Digg gave me his card after that, said he was shipping back out in a few days but if I thought about joining and came to a decision before then to call him. A couple of days later I dialed his number and signed up for Basic Training."
"That sounds a lot like fate to me."
Oliver can't help but agree.
They spend the next few hours laying on his bed and talking about their good memories from the past five years. Felicity tells him about the day she was accepted to MIT full-ride. Oliver tells her about a joke he and Slade played on Digg that ended in them having to clean the facilities for a month. Felicity shares the story about her one and only experience with drugs at her first college party during which she unknowingly ate a weed brownie with nuts in it and had an allergic reaction. Oliver embarrassingly admits to having his ass kicked more than a few times in Basic Training and then again by Slade at their base. The exchange of stories continues into the early hours of the morning until they exhaustion claims them and light from the rising sun begins to seep in through the curtains.
….
Author's Note: So now you have a little, itty bit of insight into the Karen/mob/attempt on Felicity story and more about her family. Also, a lot more of Oliver's past with Diggle and the Army.
As always, thank you for taking the time to read this and please let me know what your thoughts are so far. I absolutely love hearing what everyone has to say :)
- B