Author's Note: I really can't apologize enough for taking this long to get these final two chapters out. You have all been such troopers. Thank you for sticking with me and I hope this lives up to expectations.

...

Chapter 20: Darling, Don't You Know I'd Give My Life For You

There are turning points in this life, moments of decision making that alter the course of what's to come. Oliver has had his fair share of these moments and learned that no matter how many of them a person experiences, it is impossible to be fully prepared for the repercussions. Sure, it may get easier to prioritize and evaluate what is in front of him, but he will never be able to completely control the outcome. Because life is unpredictable that way, it doesn't always make sense. So whatever action he takes in this world should be carried out to the fullest and for the right reasons. For Oliver, the right reason has always been to protect those he loves. It will continue to be the rightest reason until his dying breath.

That is why when Detective West informs Oliver that no immediate action can be taken towards rescuing Felicity, the decision is instantly made for him.

They're gathered around the same table from earlier in the afternoon, they being the Queens, Diggle, and Detectives West and Thawne. Thawne was able to secure the information Felicity had presented to Karen's lawyer, within reason. From there, they had their tech specialist run a cross reference with the city's archives of property ownership and the businesses involved in past transactions with Frank Bertinelli and Karen Smoak. There had only been one hit in Central City and it was indirect.

"A warehouse near the wharf on the bay. Problem is, Bertinelli never owned it directly. Several years ago an LLC by the name of Spyral purchased the warehouse, the same one Miss Smoak was looking into."

Oliver's brow furrows in confusion as he studies the image of the aforementioned warehouse that Detective West slides towards him. His next comment comes out more of a question than a statement.

"Felicity said she couldn't find anything on the company."

"She might not have had access to the older archives. The warehouse fell out of Spyral's ownership and became privately owned once the company was liquidated some years ago. Felicity's work is good, Mr. Queen, but no one is infallible."

The detective's last quip strikes a nerve in Oliver. He doesn't need a lecture on fallibility. He needs results.

"So when are you going to search the warehouse?"

West and Thawne exchange a quick look of apprehension before the latter begins to respond slowly.

"Because the warehouse property is now owned by a private party and seeing as it's the middle of the night, obtaining a search warrant might take us some time, a few hours most likely if the parties involved are cooperative."

This is the turning point.

Felicity might not have a couple of hours. Hell, she might not even have a couple of minutes. So the choice is easily made. In fact, there's really no choice to make at all. Oliver is going to find Felicity himself.

"Is there any way to speed the process up, Detective? In a city like this you have to have a magistrate working at this hour."

Moira has one arm wrapped around Thea's shoulders as the younger girl presses herself into her mother's side, the other is extended towards Oliver to gently rest on his back. His mother rubs soothing circles into the taut muscles, urging him to relax.

The action reminds Oliver of when he was a kid, stupid and reckless. He would run to his mother when he made a mistake because he knew she would be able to make it better. Most of the time Moira would sit Oliver down and they would talk through whatever mess he had gotten himself into, all the while sifting her delicate fingers through his hair and massaging comforting circles into his scalp. If only his problems now were as easy to solve as those had been.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Queen, but there isn't anyone available for another three hours. Once we can get in contact with a judge it shouldn't take very long to obtain a warrant. We have more than enough to show that we have probable cause. In the mean time, we are assembling a team to search the warehouse as soon as the warrant is granted to us."

A phone begins to ring just then and Moira quickly reaches into her purse, checking the caller ID before addressing Detective West.

"My husband. I left him a voicemail on our way over, but I didn't think he would call back so soon. I need to take this."

"Of course, Mrs. Queen. Detective Thawne and I will go check to see if any progress has been made, give you and your family some privacy."

As the two detectives gather their things, Oliver leans in to address his mother in a low voice.

"I'm going to the restroom. Will you and Thea be okay without me?"

"Of course, sweetheart."

Oliver's mother gives him a warm smile, one he returns before leaning over to place a kiss on his sister's forehead.

"I'll be right back."

Pulling himself to standing, Oliver quickly turns on his heel to exit the room…

And runs straight into Detective Thawne, knocking the manila folder in the other man's hands to the floor. Papers spill out across the holding room floor and Oliver quickly crouches down to help the detective collect them.

"Sorry, I didn't see you there."

The two men rise once the files are back in order and Oliver offers the small stack he organized back to the detective. The other man takes the papers with a sympathetic look before responding.

"Don't sweat it, Mr. Queen. I'm sure you have a lot going on in your head right now. No one blames you for being flustered by everything that's happening."

Oliver responds with a thankful smile, careful to hide his movements as he deftly slips the document he just pilfered from the scattered files into his back pocket.

"Thanks."

Detective Thawne briefly claps him on the back before pivoting towards the door. The two of them make their way out of the room, parting from one another as Oliver heads down the opposite end of the hallway towards the restroom. However, when he reaches the wooden door with the word 'Men' printed on it in easy to read block letters, he continues past it. After a surreptitious glance over his shoulder, Oliver travels down the hall and turns to the right. It doesn't take long before he arrives at the door leading to the alley he escaped to yesterday morning. Another quick survey of his surroundings shows that he has not been followed, and Oliver quickly ducks outside.

It's pitch-dark out given the late, or early depending on how you look at it, time of day and a slight chill runs down his spine as a gust of wind blows through. Papers rustle and the sound of a can rolling and hitting a wall comes from the mouth of the alleyway. Oliver hastily makes his way to the parking lot behind the police station, striding towards where the car they arrived in is parked. A dark figure standing by the hood of the vehicle comes into focus, causing Oliver's shoulders to tense as he goes on high alert. The tension lessens once the figure steps into the light of a street lamp and reveals himself.

"What are you doing out here, Digg?"

"Funny, I could ask you the same thing."

A beat of silence passes between them as Diggle silently calls Oliver on his bluff.

"You're not going after her, Oliver. Wait for the police to get a warrant."

Gritting his teeth, Oliver turns his head away from the older man and lets his gaze wander across the nearly abandon parking lot.

"You know I can't do that."

"Oliver, don't. Don't let this be Shado all over again."

Images flash behind his eyelids of Shado lying helpless on the ground, bleeding out. Then it's Felicity, screaming for him to do something, anything. Then it's Shado once again, telling him to leave her and run. The scenarios flicker back and forth until Oliver can't tell which images are memories and which are a product of his twisted imagination. If Digg was hoping to dissuade him, he's done a poor job of it.

"Shado had training to stay alive. Felicity doesn't know anything aside from basic self-defense. If you think I'm going to abandon her until the police get their act together then you don't know me at all."

The older man takes a step towards him, causing Oliver to tense.

"See that's the thing, man. I do know you. And I know you'll give your own goddamn life to keep her safe."

He's not wrong.

"Digg, get out of my way."

"Or what, Oliver?"

"Or get put down."

Oliver's reply comes without hesitation and is followed by silence. They stand there, wondering who will make the first move, who will be the first to give.

In the end it's Diggle whose will is weaker. He gives a resigned sigh and shake of his head as he distances himself from Oliver.

"Well I'll be damned if I let you do this without backup."

That gives Oliver pause.

"Digg, no. I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't. I'm volunteering. A soldier never lets his brother go into combat alone."

Oliver considers his friend, his commanding officer, assessing how serious the older man is. He knows that Digg blames himself in part for what happened in Afghanistan. Oliver had gone to him, ready to retrieve Shado, and the older man had refused to send the unit out. What Oliver did had gone against direct orders, but he knows that never made Digg feel any less responsible for the comrades, the friends they lost that night.

"Okay. Let's go."

….

It takes them ten minutes to speed back to the hotel, violating at least five major traffic laws along the way. It takes another ten for them to gather their gear, and then thirty more to reach the wharf. Oliver's nerve ends are buzzing like livewires by the time they hide the car and begin to make their way towards the address printed on the evidence file he pocketed earlier.

"We have to be smart about this. We want to get in and out of there as inconspicuously as possible for Felicity's safety. Bertinelli will have men surrounding the area to keep watch. Hopefully not too many, but we still need to be quick."

"Got it, Digg."

"Hey."

Diggle reaches out to grasp Oliver's shoulder, halting them both in their steps.

"Keep your head about this. I can cover you, but we need to stick to the plan if we want this to go our way."

Oliver gives a quick nod of understanding, putting the conversation to an end as he turns back around and quietly makes his way through the abundance of surrounding warehouses.

253.

That's the number they're looking for. Warehouse 253 in the wharf district of Central City. The numbers climb as they silently continue forward. 249. 250. 251. Oliver's hand travels down to his waist where his handgun is situated in its holster. He frees the weapon from its confines without so much as a glance, remaining vigilant of his surroundings.

The two soldiers hear the gruff voices of men at the same moment and simultaneously come to a halt. They remain still, listening to the muffled exchange from around the corner. Oliver notes the shift in pitches, attempting to discern the number of people conversing.

"I'm picking up on two."

"Same here. I'll go around the other side and we each take whoever's closest."

Oliver gives Digg a curt nod, waiting for him to round the side of the warehouse before doing the same. Back pressed against the wall, he makes his way towards the voices of Bertinelli's men without a sound. Every movement, every step, every breath is measured, coolly calculated down to the angle as years of stealth training have conditioned him to do. Carelessness is what nearly got him killed before. There is no room for error this time.

The voices come into focus as Oliver approaches and he can just make out what the men are saying.

"Did you see Tony's face?"

"How could I not? That's a shiner if I've ever seen one. Blondie got a good swing in before he knocked her out."

Felicity. They're talking about Felicity and that means the chances of her being here just increased substantially. After the relief comes a very brief sense of pride as Oliver puts together what the two men are saying. Felicity must have put up a fight when Corallo grabbed her and left him with a black eye. That's his girl.

"She's lucky the boss man wants her unharmed or he'd have put the kid in her place by now."

Three short whistles sound from around the other side of the building, calling the attention of the two men standing guard. Their conversation ceases for a moment as they listen.

"You hear that?"

"Yeah. I'm gonna go check it out. Be on guard."

Oliver can faintly make out the sound of retreating footfalls as one of the guards investigates the source of the noise. That's his cue.

Tucking his gun into the back of his jeans and covering it with his leather jacket, Oliver collects himself and then proceeds to round the corner. The man left behind tenses the second he comes into his line of sight. Oliver puts on a surprised façade before cautiously approaching him. He remains a few paces away in the shadows, careful not to fully reveal his face.

"Hi, sorry, don't mean to scare you, but I seem to be a little lost."

The dark haired man, who appears to be a few inches shorter than Oliver, assesses him warily.

"Yeah, you do. This is private property."

"Oh, sorry. I'm here to pick something up. Think you could help me find the warehouse I'm looking for?"

"At four in the morning?"

The skepticism in the man's tone does not go unnoticed. Oliver pours every ounce of irresponsible playboy into his next response that he can, hoping the man will take the bait.

"Just a couple party favors, if you know what I'm saying. Wait, you're not a cop, are you?"

"Why don't you just tell me the number you're looking for?"

Annoyance rings through the guard's voice above all else now. Oliver reaches into his pocket to pull out the paper with the warehouse address on it while he closes the distance between the two of them, careful to keep his head down.

"It says right here I'm looking for warehouse two fifty-three."

Oliver looks up then, revealing his face to the man in the light of a nearby lamppost. He can tell the second the man recognizes him by the look on his face. It's a second too late as Oliver quickly grabs his wrist, preventing the guard from relieving his gun from its holster. He pulls his fist back and quickly snaps it forward into the man's temple, his body crumpling to the pavement as he rapidly loses consciousness.

"Thanks for the help."

The pounding of footsteps catches Oliver's attention and he reflexively pulls out his gun, clicking the safety off and preparing to fire if necessary. He relaxes when Digg rounds the corner, seemingly uninjured. The older man glances at the body lying on the ground and then back at Oliver.

"My guy's out cold. Secured him to a couple of crates just incase."

"Good. Let's go."

They pause at the door, listening for any signs that someone might be waiting on the other side. Oliver draws his gun up in front of him as Digg reaches out to grab the doorknob. The men exchange a brief nod right before the door swings open and Oliver steps inside.

Neither gunfire nor angered shouts great the soldiers as they enter, which they take as a good thing. The inside of the warehouse is lined with rows of boxes extending almost from floor to ceiling. This bodes well for them in the aspect of staying hidden, but not in their quest to locate Felicity.

"How do you want to do this, Oliver?"

Their roles are reversed from what they were back in Afghanistan and it throws Oliver for a loop. Because he doesn't know how he wants to do this. He doesn't know how to think about this methodically when it feels like lightening has been bottled up inside him, his body screaming at him to go, to do something and do it now. Blood pumps through his veins and he does his best to keep his heart rate steady.

"I don't… give me a second."

"We don't have a lot of time, Oliver."

"I know."

He makes sure to keep his response quiet while his mind kicks into overdrive. They need to find Felicity, that is the obvious objective. But they also need to determine their method of escape and remove any threats to said escape.

"We need to stay together until we find Felicity. We can figure out how to get out of here as we go."

Without another word, the men cautiously proceed forward. They remain aware of their surroundings, constantly glancing about to draw up a mental map of the warehouse and to discern any possible threats. Oliver takes note of the exits they come across, sure that Diggle is doing the very same.

Muted voices from up ahead slow down their pace as the two men travel deeper into the warehouse. Oliver is able to distinguish between the different tenors as they slip closer, picking up on a familiar tone.

"I don't see why we can't just off the kid now. There's no way the boss man is gonna let her live. She knows too much."

Oliver's grip tightens around his gun, a strong hand on his shoulder the only thing that prevents him from charging in right then and there. Turning slightly, he catches Diggle's eye and nods his understanding. They need to hold their ground to get a better idea of what they're up against.

"Are you questioning the Don's authority, Tony?"

There is a sudden silence following the accusation, a suspension of time that occurs only in a moment of completely standstill. Even though he cannot see the men, Oliver can feel the shifting and rising tension in the air.

"Of course I wasn't, Nicky. Only an idiot would do that."

"Then I don't need to explain to you the reasons to keep this girl breathing. Frank wants her alive until stated otherwise, so that's how it's gonna be. Got it?"

A small relief washes through Oliver at hearing that. She's alive. Felicity's alive.

"Got it."

"Good."

Quiet ensues after the tense exchange, save for the sound fingers scuttling over a keyboard and the muted thuds of shoes on the cement ground. Oliver and Digg hold their position for a few beats in order to track the movement of the heavy footfalls. Once they seem to be moving away from the former soldiers, Oliver peers around the stack of crates to survey the area. The sight he finds nearly stops his heart.

Roughly thirty yards away from him in a cleared out space at the heart of the building is Felicity.

She's seated on the floor in a slumped over position, a steel support beam running from base to ceiling behind her back. From Oliver's vantage point, it appears that her arms are secured around it. Felicity's usually slicked back ponytail is a disheveled mess, having fallen nearly to the base of her skull with strands of various lengths hanging limply around her face. A white cloth is pulled taut between her lips, tied around the back of her head, gagging her.

The world pulses red around him.

It takes everything within Oliver to hold himself in place, to keep himself in check as he speaks in hushed anger to his companion.

"We need to get her out of here, Digg. Now."

"I know. There's an emergency exit behind her and to the left. Do you see it?"

He glances in the direction Diggle mentioned and targets the glowing red sign above the door.

"Yes."

"Untie Felicity and get her out that door. I'll cover you from a few yards away, close enough to jump in if necessary but far enough to draw them away if you need a distraction."

Oliver drags his gaze from Felicity's prone form to look at Diggle, thinking the plan through quickly before giving his reply.

"Okay. I'll take Felicity and head straight for the car once we get out."

With a nod, the older man begins to move from his crouched position. He pauses, however, when Oliver speaks his name in a hushed tone.

"John. Be careful."

"Always am, Oliver." And then, "You too."

He watches as Digg's bulking form slips around the corner and out of sight. Then, with a deep breath to steady himself, Oliver turns away and moves in the opposite direction.

Crouched low to the ground, he moves with a steady surety, determination in every step. This is a mission that Oliver cannot, will not fail. He circles around the outer edge of boxes in order to remain undetected, moving closer to where Felicity is bound and gagged. The closer he gets, the more anxious he becomes, eyes tracing over every small detail of her features in search of injury. Deep violet blossoms across her cheekbone outlined in a sickly shade of green and dried up blood from a cut near the corner of her eye clings to her skin. The obvious evidence of physical violence sends Oliver's stomach churning in rage.

They fucking hit her.

Oliver's hand tightens around his gun and for a second he contemplates opening fire on the two men right here and now. It would be so easy from his vantage point to take them out in two shots, one to the back of each of their heads. Then he could grab Felicity and get her out of here to safety without trouble. Years of training, however, have taught Oliver to act with more integrity than that. Killing is not a plan. It is a last resort.

So instead, Oliver continues to silently edge around the boxes towards the place where Felicity is tied up. Luck must be on his side because he manages to reach her without being detected. A small sigh of relief slips out between Oliver's lips as he glances over his shoulder at the men standing watch, finding them preoccupied with whatever is flashing across their computer screens. Turning back around and crouching down by her side, Oliver lets his eyes wander over Felicity's form, searching for any sign of injury that was too small to see from far away.

Apart from some smaller bruises around her wrists and a split lip, Felicity appears to be okay. Her hair is matted with sweat and dirt, loose strands dangling in front of her face due to the uncomfortable angle at which her head is hanging. Thick eyelashes clump together, dark circles residing beneath her eyes that scream of exhaustion despite her unconscious state. It's the puffy eyelids and faint tear tracks that really leave Oliver winded, feeling as though he's just been sucker punched in the gut. She's been crying.

Tentatively, Oliver reaches out to cup Felicity's cheek in the roughened palm of his hand. When she gives no indication of waking, he lays his gun down on the floor, freeing his other hand in order to reach up and frame her face. Being careful not to place too much pressure on her injured cheek, Oliver gently runs his thumbs back and forth across Felicity's cheekbones. Her eyelids begin to flutter open at the touch as she regains consciousness. The moment she comes to, her entire body tenses and jerks away from his hold, eyes shooting open wide in disorientation and panic. Oliver just manages to cradle the back of her head and prevent it from colliding with the support beam behind her.

"Shhh, shhh, shhh! Felicity, it's me! It's Oliver. I'm here. I'm here."

He locks onto her confused gaze, cautiously watching as the storm in her eyes calms at the sound of his hushed voice. Recognition and relief flood through Felicity's features as she relaxes into Oliver's hold, falling forward to rest her damp forehead against his shoulder. His strong arms quickly encircle her shaking form, one wrapping around her lower back to hold her tight while the other reaches further behind her to work at the rope knotted around her wrists. He murmurs into her hair the entire time, careful not to let his voice rise above the faintest of whispers.

"I've got you. I've got you. Everything's going to be okay. You're safe now."

Bracing his hands against her shoulders, Oliver gently pushes Felicity backwards so she's sitting upright. Once she's steady, he reaches around to gently loosen the piece of cloth secured around her mouth. A deep gasp follows suit as Felicity sucks in what has probably been her first breath of fresh air in God knows how long. The thought alone sends a wave of rage crashing through Oliver's system. He tries to quell his anger by focusing on the blonde in front of him, cupping her uninjured cheek in the palm of his hand, needing the contact just as much if not more than she does.

"I'm going to get you out of here, okay?"

He doesn't hear the approaching footsteps until it's too late. The fear and panic in Felicity's eyes register with Oliver just as the safety of a gun releases behind him.

"Not so fast there, Mr. Queen."

Oliver freezes, instantly recognizing the voice as Tony Corallo's. He whispers quietly to Felicity so that only the two of them can hear.

"When I give the signal, you run. Bite your lip if you understand."

Her teeth tug at her bottom lip for a moment, signaling that she gets the message. Worry, however, is still very present in her eyes and Oliver knows the majority of it isn't for herself.

"Hands above your head and step away from the girl. Now."

He does as told, backing away from Felicity and slowly turning around to face the man aiming a gun at his chest. There's an element of arrogance to Corallo's stance, as if he really believes that he got the jump on Oliver. He did to an extent, but Digg is still stationed in the warehouse, waiting to intervene if necessary.

Standing behind Corallo near a crude setup of computers is another, older looking man. It takes Oliver a second to place the somewhat familiar face, but when he does he recognizes the individual as Nick Solvate, Bertinelli's second in command. The two men met briefly at the tension-filled dinner Bertinelli hosted weeks ago. Oliver should have known he would be here.

"If you let us go now, I'll be sure to make your part in our escape clear to the authorities."

Corallo barks out a laugh at Oliver's comment, gun still held at the ready. Solvate remains silent, observing for a beat before speaking in an eerily calm tone of authority.

"It's flattering that you think I have a say in who stays and who goes, Mr. Queen. Now please, take a seat."

He gestures towards a metal chair a couple of feet away from him. When Oliver makes no move towards it, Corallo takes a threatening step forward. The mobster's face morphs into a sneer at his unwillingness to comply, huffing in agitation as he shuffles closer. Oliver's gaze remains locked on Solvate.

"I won't ask again. I may have orders to keep her in one piece, but the Don didn't say anything about you. Tony here has been itching for a fight for days now."

"Oliver, just do what he says."

All three men whip their heads around to where Felicity is seated on the ground. She's kneeling in almost the same position she was earlier, hands held behind her back to maintain the illusion of being tied up.

"Hey! Did we say you could talk? There's a reason we had you gagged, bitch."

Oliver's jaw clenches tightly in anger at Corallo's insult, barely refraining from attacking him. For now.

"Tony, show Oliver here to his seat, please."

A large hand shoves at his back, roughly encouraging him to take a step toward the chair and away from Felicity. Oliver does so with measured reluctance when in all actuality the closer they get to the chair, the further they get from Felicity, providing her with a larger window of escape.

A movement along the wall of the warehouse catches his eye. Crouched by a large wooden crate near the bank of computers is Digg, gun at the ready and aimed at the man ushering Oliver along. The two soldiers lock gazes in silent communication, a skill developed overseas after working together in the field for so long. The message is clear.

Not yet.

"I expected more of a fight from you, Oliver. Five years in Afghanistan, wasn't it? I have to say, I'm a little disappointed."

Oliver remains silent, refusing to acknowledge Solvate's taunting words. They're seven feet from the chair… six… five… He stops short, refusing to move any further.

"All the way, Queen! This gun ain't just for - "

The second he feels the cool metal of the gun make contact with his person, Oliver strikes. He quickly pivots around and grabs the weapon before slamming his elbow into the side of Corallo's jaw. The other man stumbles back a few steps, releasing the gun in disorientation. Oliver sees Diggle spring into action out of the corner of his eye, gun pointed at Solvate as he shouts at him not to move.

"Felicity, go!"

He barks out the command just as Corallo recovers. The mobster appears conflicted for a moment, wondering if he should go after Felicity or take a swing at his opponent. Oliver makes the decision for him, charging at the unarmed man. Corallo is fast to react, ducking out of the way as Oliver's fist flies at his head. The two men quickly engage each other, giving Felicity time to escape.

The warehouse fills with grunts and shouts as the unarmed men lash out at one another. Oliver blocks a jab to his head and retaliates with one of his own. Corallo recovers quickly, delivering a swift kick to Oliver's side that he just barely dodges. They trade blows back and forth until Oliver gets the final drop on his opponent, slamming his foot into the guy's knee with enough force to make his legs give out beneath him. The ensuing sharp cry of pain, however, causes Oliver to freeze. Because it doesn't come from the man he's fighting.

It comes from Felicity.

Time seems to stand still as Oliver snaps his head toward the noise, the scene he finds causing his heart to stop. One of the men that had been standing guard outside has Felicity hauled back against his chest by her hair, fist tightly wound in the unruly strands of her ponytail, gun pressed to her fragile temple. Even from across the room Oliver can see that she's shaking in the his hold, terrified.

"Let her go!"

As Oliver takes a step forward, the man holding Felicity captive yanks at her hair. The action pulls a small exclamation of pain from her throat and causes Oliver to immediately halt his advances. Glancing to his right, he sees that Digg has done the same, the older man's gaze shifting back and forth between the room's occupants in assessment.

"It seems as though we are at a bit of an impasse, Mr. Queen."

The words come from Solvate, who stands in front of Diggle's pointed gun as if its ammunition were comprised of water instead of lead and gunpowder. He appears unfazed, now that he once again has the upper hand.

"Tell your friend here to lower his gun, would you?"

Oliver glances toward Diggle, then moves his gaze back to Felicity. She tries to shake her head, but the man holding her tightens his grip on her ponytail in retaliation. She grits her teeth, refusing to cry out this time. Despite her efforts, a pained whimper escapes the blonde and it's enough to make Oliver's decision for him.

"Diggle, do as he says."

The older man hesitates for a second before lowering his weapon.

"On the ground, please. Then slide it over this way."

Again, Diggle delays following Solvate's orders. Oliver nods to him in encouragement and watches as the older man complies, nudging the gun across the floor with his foot. Solvate bends down to grab it, releasing the safety as he turns the weapon back around on Digg.

"Hey, Tony! Why don't you get up off your lazy ass and show Mr. Diggle to a seat."

The man in question is just now pushing himself up off the floor, and Oliver observes with a hint of satisfaction as he approaches Digg with a slight drag in his left leg. The injury is no doubt a consequence of Oliver's final blow before their standstill. The contentment, however, quickly wanes as Corallo fastens Diggle's arms and ankles to the chair.

"Good. Joey, bring Miss Smoak over this way, and Oliver, if you would be so kind as to follow your friend's example and take a seat."

Slowly, Oliver closes the distance between himself and a chair situated a few feet away, gaze steadily bouncing back and forth between the gun trained on him and Felicity as her captor moves them toward Solvate. Rough hands hastily shove him into the chair once he's close enough and begin to secure Oliver in place.

"Oliver, don't! They have orders not to kill me!"

A violent crack rings through the room, followed by a sharp cry as Felicity tumbles to the floor after being backhanded by Solvate. Even from a distance Oliver can spot the bright red of blood heating beneath her skin, and knows it will cause a fresh bruise to appear within a few hours. Hatred floods his system, boiling the blood running through his veins. If it weren't for the guns trained on each of them, he would lash out at the nearest mobster. As is, Oliver can't hold himself back from growling at the men under his breath.

"You know, she's right. We were given strict orders to keep her alive. But the Don didn't say anything about getting a little rough."

The broad-shouldered man grabs Felicity by the top of her arm and yanks her body into his side, shifting to wrap an arm around her waist. He maintains eye contact with Oliver the entire time, teasing him, taunting him, daring him to make a move.

"Joey, go over with Tony and keep our guests some company."

The other man does as he's told, crossing the space to where Diggle and Oliver are seated. He steps behind Oliver's chair and takes up post. The distinct sound of the cocking of a gun greets his ears not long after, and Oliver knows the man has the weapon aimed directly at the back of his head. A shot this close is almost guaranteed to be fatal even with minimal placement training. But the weapon drawn on him is not Oliver's immediate concern. It's Felicity.

"You know, I really was hoping we wouldn't need to resort to drastic measures. Our boss is pretty fond of your company and it's recent developments, Oliver. It's a shame really that your partnership has to end so suddenly like this. All because you couldn't stay away from your little girlfriend here."

Oliver's jaw clenches in anger at the obvious way in which Solvate is toying with him. Disgust filling every ounce of his being as the man tightens his hold on Felicity when she jerks in his grasp.

"I see the appeal. Young, beautiful, willing… I bet she's great in bed with all that youthful energy and what not. She's got a fire in her, too. Maybe a little too much of it."

The hand holding up his gun falls to his side and then disappears behind his back. It returns without the weapon, however, the man is not empty handed. Taking the gun's place is a small syringe filled with clear liquid. Oliver's eyes widen, then pull tight in anger as he begins to pull at his restraints.

"I swear to God, if you hurt her I will end you, Solvate!"

"Ah, ah, ah! I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The sharp end of the needle kisses the delicate skin of Felicity's throat and punctures her skin, just enough to cause a small drop of blood to trickle down the pale column. Oliver's struggles cease almost immediately at the sight.

"Good. Now, which of you do we get rid of first? The former billionaire philanderer turned golden boy of Starling, or the honorable Army sergeant with an overwhelming sense of loyalty?"

Solvate nods to the man standing behind Oliver. The muzzle of a gun presses into the base of his skull, but Oliver does not flinch, does not so much as blink. He's been in worse situations than this.

"No! Oliver!"

The raw fear and desperation in Felicity's screams slams into Oliver harder than any bullet ever could.

"Looks like we have ourselves a winner, gentlemen. Kill him."

"NO!"

The following sequence of events seems to occur in slow motion and then all at once.

Felicity manages to get an arm free from Solvate's hold and quickly uses it to jerk her elbow into his gut with all her might. Oliver loosens his zipties enough to slip one of his hands out. The gun goes off. The world falls to silence.

A high-pitched tone rings in Oliver's ears as searing pain blossoms along the back of his scalp. The bullet had scarcely missed its intended target as he ducked down mere milliseconds before it was fired. He wastes no time moving into action, compartmentalizing the pain away for later. Grabbing the legs of the chair beneath him, Oliver quickly slides it through his legs and whirls around to face the mobster. He slams the metal piece of furniture into the side of his attacker's head, dodging another bullet as he fires aimlessly in Oliver's direction. With a swift kick to the man's arm, he quickly disarms his assailant. Unfortunately, the assault does not succeed in incapacitating the man completely as he pulls out a knife and lunges at Oliver.

Cries of fury and pain submerge the room as the fighting continues. Somewhere in the background Oliver hears Felicity's voice calling out. It serves to divert his attention from the fight as his eyes automatically search the room for her person. He locates Felicity, struggling on the ground with Solvate on top of her, and insurmountable rage consumes him. That split second of distraction is all the opportunity his opponent needs to get the jump on him.

Oliver reels backwards as he receives a vicious blow to the jaw, head whipping to the side and then forward as the other man latches onto the front of his shirt. He grabs the guy's arm and the wrist of the hand holding the knife to block him from getting another hit in. The two push against one another, feet shuffling but not daring to leave the ground for fear of relinquishing their stability.

"Oliver, look out!"

The shout comes from Diggle, causing Oliver to turn his head in the older man's direction. He finds Corallo's gun trained on him, the man a breath away from pulling the trigger and lodging a bullet deep into Oliver's chest. Shifting his weight, Oliver forces his opponent to stumble towards him. He uses the other man's momentum to spin him around and face Corallo just as the gun goes off three times in succession. Oliver propels the man's body forward with each impact, using him as a human shield as he advances on Corallo. When the firing stops, he lets the body fall to the floor in a lifeless heap.

Before Oliver gets the chance to charge at Corallo, Diggle breaks free of his own confines and does it for him. The older man strikes quickly and efficiently, delivering a swift jab to the man's temple. It's one of Digg's perfected moves for incapacitating an opponent and Oliver knows before Corallo even hits the ground that he is out cold. There's no time to dwell on that as he quickly twists around to locate Felicity.

Right as she stabs Solvate in the neck with the syringe he had threatened her with earlier and aggressively pushes down the plunger.

"You bitch!"

The man shoves Felicity into the ground, slamming her head into the unforgiving concrete. However, the action lacks its intended force as he quickly becomes disoriented, no doubt due to the sudden dosage of whatever drug was in that syringe, giving Felicity the opportunity to propel him off of her. Solvate makes a grab at the blonde's waist that she narrowly evades as she rolls to her side. She fumbles at the space beside her for something that lies out of Oliver's line of sight, even as he gets increasingly closer to them.

"Get back here you little brat!"

The man grips Felicity's ankle and tugs her towards him.

"Don't touch me!"

In one swift motion, Felicity flips onto her back to face Solvate, arms held straight out in front of her as she levels a gun with the center of his forehead. Their struggle halts immediately as the room fills with the sounds of heavy breathing. No one moves.

"Let. Go. Of. Me."

She speaks the words as if each is it's own sentence, punctuated by the gritting of her teeth and the tightening of her grip on the gun. Even in his rapidly increasing drugged up state, Solvate knows better than to defy her, letting his hand fall away from Felicity's ankle and to the floor with a muted thud. His blown pupils remain trained on the weapon in her hand.

Felicity uses one hand to scoot herself back and out of Solvate's reach, but keeps the gun aimed at his prone form. Tears of anger and rage flood her stormy blue eyes and as Oliver gets closer he can just make out the tiny tremors running through her tension-filled body.

"You hurt me. You drugged me. You tried to kill the people I care about."

The tears Felicity has been holding back silently run down her cheeks. She presses her lips together to keep from making a sound and adjusts her grip on the handgun. Oliver slowly approaches her, stopping within a few feet of where she sits.

"Felicity…"

Her eyes flash to meet his and a small sob escapes Felicity before she returns her focus to the man on the ground, who is quickly succumbing to the drug in his system.

"I hate you."

The words are barely audible from where Oliver stands, but he feels the hurt and the anger behind them as if she had screamed. She still has the weapon pointed at Solvate and for a fraction of a moment Oliver wonders if she'll really do it, pull the trigger. But Felicity is not a spiteful person. She doesn't let hatred or negativity consume her, even in the worst scenarios, even when it is beyond justified for her to feel such things. So when she suddenly moves, implementing the safety on the gun and tossing it to the ground, Oliver is already closing the distance between them and reaching out to gather her in his arms.

"Oliver."

"Shh, shh, shh. It's okay. It's okay."

Felicity clutches at the fabric of his shirt and buries her head into his chest, seeking out the comfort he so readily offers. She does not release violent sobs or loud cries, just the occasional whimper as Oliver rocks her back and forth in his arms.

"It's over. Everything is going to be okay now. You're safe."

Relief washes over him at the realization of how true his words are, so powerful and all consuming it leaves him winded. It really is over now. Once the police get here they'll have all the evidence they need to take Bertinelli and his men into custody. All the threats to Felicity's life, they'll be over. She'll be safe.

Oliver's eyes press tightly together as he holds Felicity impossibly close to his body, never wanting to let her go. His hands gently run over the expanse of her back and waist, one tangling into her matted hair as he leans down to press a kiss against the crown of her head. If he's being honest, he might need the contact more than Felicity does. He needs to feel her safe and breathing beneath his touch, to assure himself that all those nightmares that have deprived him of sleep for so long did not come to fruition. He needs to feel how alive she is.

Disentangling his hand from Felicity's hair, Oliver slides it across her shoulder and between their bodies to gently, slowly rest his palm over the left side of her chest. It takes a moment, but he soon feels the fast-paced beating of her heart beneath his hand. Oliver lets the rhythm wash over him, submerge him, drown him until it's all he knows. He loses himself in the irrefutable proof of Felicity's existence.

The faint sound of police sirens echoes in the background, but Oliver never lets go.

...

Author's Note: So this took far too long and I cannot apologize enough. On the plus side, the next and final chapter is done and will be up within the next few days. It has been a very long and crazy ride with this one, which I'll reflect on more in the author's note for next chapter. But this fight scene was a bitch and a half to write so I hope it came out okay and I did it justice.

Thank you so incredibly much for those who have stuck with me through the inconsistent updates. You are all amazing. I love you :)

- Bri