Far From Paradise
This is How a Promise Breaks
. . .
Note: Thanks to everyone who has been sticking with this story, and I'm sorry about the delay. School and work struck, and now I've finally had some time to sit down and work on my stories. Thanks so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Chapter 5 will be up in a week, maybe two. Between His Girl Friday, and More Interrupts Than Coitus…and uh, life, the plate is getting full.
. . .
Thea hadn't been back to The Glades since coming back with Roy a week after The Undertaking to find his house absolutely leveled. She'd been struck by this sickening wave of horror when she saw the house caved in; as she couldn't help thinking...what if he hasn't gotten out? What if she lost him too?
"Oh my god, Roy," Thea covered her hand with her mouth as she took in the sight of splintered wood and shattered glass where his house used to stand. "I'm so sorry...it took—took everything from you."
"Thea, stop it." Roy pulled her against his chest and held her tightly.
"You lost your home, Roy."
"It hadn't been a home in a long time,it was just a place to sleep." He told her,"And I didn't lose everything by far."
Roy tilted her head up, and looked at her with such a fixed surety in his eyesthat a tingle ran through her body.
She was in love with him, and even though the world seemed to shatter around them, it hadn't taken that.
"I've got you. And you're all I need."
She honestly didn't think that she could survive losing Roy. He was the only thing that got her through—was getting her though, every day, this hell that her life had turned into.
"Don't worry." Roy squeezed her hand, apparently sensing her anxiety as they walked through the city, and assuming it was the ragged, third-world street they walked down. "It's fine."
Compared to the other side of town, this actually wasn't so bad. It was difficult to navigate the streets by car, so they left the SUV in the parking lot at Verdant, hidden from any potential thieves (Roy's idea) by a fallen billboard.
"It's better than I thought it would be," Thea said looking around as they walked down the street.
Some of the buildings had the windows broken out, and the streets were filled with debris. Rotting wood, ash...she'd seen the reports of a few fires that had spread through both sides of The Glades. Down here, the fires spread rapidly because of all of the incredibly dry, aged wood, and started fast because of the faulty wiring that was made worse by the earthquake.
They passed others in the street, and a couple times, Roy pulled her close to him as a defensive preemptive strike.
She knew he was worried, and they had argued about it-loudly, both of them passionate in their convictions.
"I think you should stay home." Roy told her, speaking through the door to her bathroom as she changed into some jeans and a t-shirt.
Anything to look less like the trust fund baby, who Roy was apparently very concerned they would try and come after with a thirst for blood.
"I'll talk to her, and find out where we can find thisDiggle." Roy said, "It's for the best, Thea."
She yanked the door open, and narrowed her eyes at him.
"Not in this lifetime." Thea snapped back at him, "I'm not just going to sit around like some helpless little girl, Roy. I've done that before. I'm going to find my brother."
"Thea, you promised to let me take care of you." Roy said, "The best way for me to look after you is not for you to storm into somewhere—"
"Somewhere where everyone hates me?" Thea said, with a slow nod of her head.
"Thea…I…" Roy was caught at a loss for words.
"I know." She told him, "You think I blame anyone? I hate me. I hate that my parents, who I thought were theseborderline perfect, loving—good people…I hate that they could do this, not just to me but hundreds of people. I hate that I can't fix it, okay? There is nothing that I can do—the only thing that I can do is try and find my brother."
Thea looked him over, "You'vegottalet me have this Roy, I need something to hold onto. I've got to hope that somewhere out there Ollie is okay."
"You listen to me." Roy said sternly,folding to her will. "Got it?"
"Okay. Good." Thea smiled, "Got it, Commandant Harper."
Being on the streets wasn't like anything she saw on TV though. Children played up and down the street, some laughing, some sad and dejected, and she turned to watch as a group raced by on their bikes.
"It's just another block this way." Roy said, looking her over as she lingered. "Your feet hurt?"
"No." Thea shook her head, staring at the makeshift box homes that lined the alleyway.
It looked like there were a dozen—probably more—families who were squatting in the dank backstreet. There was one in particular she couldn't pull her eyes from, a mother—probably not much older than she was—with her baby cradled in her arms and nursing her, trying to shield her from the dirt, and noise, and mess.
No one deserved to live like that.
"Thea, no." Roy said as she tried to pull away and go down the alley. "You can't."
"But I have money." Thea whispered in his ear, "I can help her—I can help all of them."
"And what about the hundreds more in dozens more dark alleys just like this one?" Roy asked, "Thea, I know that you want to help them, but you can't. You walk down there and start handing out money…it just isn't safe."
He pulled her away, a deep frown creasing her forehead as she thought about it.
"You can't save everyone." He told her, "And I'm not risking you down there. I'm not saying they're bad people—I'm saying that when someone is scared and desperate, they do things that you wouldn't expect."
"Okay." Thea said in a quiet voice, "I know, you're right."
Still, she couldn't get it out of her mind. Because of her family, and a half a dozen just like hers these people were suffering. What was going to happen to them while she was safely ensconced in the ivory tower that was Queen Manor with her boyfriend and an army of bodyguards?
"Here it is." Roy gestured to a restaurant with one long glass window that was covered in plywood boards.
"Is that from the blast wave?" Thea asked, pointing toward the window.
"No." Roy shook his head, "It's from the people."
He loosened his grip on Thea once they were inside the restaurant, and turned to the tall black waitress holding a carafe of coffee.
"Excuse me," he said, "I was wondering if you could help me out, I'm looking for Carly Diggle…"
"Well, you found her." She said, looking Thea over with a questioning look in her eyes. "You look familiar. Have we met?"
"She's got one of those familiar faces." Roy said, intervening quickly before Thea could say anything. "I'm hoping that you could tell me where I could get in touch with John Diggle. I think he knows where a friend of mine is."
"You don't say." Carly raised a questioning eyebrow, before waving one of the waitresses over and handing over the carafe, "Table seven."
She placed her hands on her hips, and looked them both over studiously.
"It's not every day that a couple of white kids come around for John. What's this about?"
"We're not here to cause any trouble." Roy assured her, "I'm just hoping that he might have seen my friend, and he can point us in the right direction."
"Please," Thea said, stepping forward, "I know that you have no reason to trust us, but we really don't mean any harm. I'm just trying to find my brother, and—"
"Oh my god…" Carly let out a sigh, she gestured for the two of them to follow her, and then leaned in close to Thea. "Just tell me that you don't have a death wish."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Roy asked, looking protectively over Thea.
"Back here." Carly said in a quiet voice, leading them to the back of the restaurant and through the kitchen.
"And you," she directed to Roy, "You should know better than to bring Thea Queen into the Glades. I remember you. You're not doing that girl any favors. You know what it's like down here now."
Thea was torn between annoyance that this woman found it so easy to berate her boyfriend, and the desire to know more about her, and how she seemed to be connected to her brother.
"How did you know?" Thea asked as they followed her into the back.
"I have a good memory for faces, but it wasn't until I saw those Philip Lim shoes that I figured it out for sure." Carly said, knocking once, before pushing the door open, and peeking her head in.
"John," she said, with a nod of her head. "Come on out here, will you?"
"Everything okay?" he asked, stopping abruptly as she stepped out of the door and saw Thea and Roy.
An uneasy, uncomfortable look passed across his face but he didn't look altogether surprised to see her. Well, she thought, at least he knew. Maybe it also meant that he knew where her brother was. Oliver had practically treated his bodyguard like a friend…well, when he wasn't almost getting him fired by ditching him.
"What are you doing down here?" he asked Thea.
"Looking for my brother." She said, "I was hoping that you might be able to tell me when the last time was that you saw him. We've been trying to find him."
"Oh boy," Diggle sighed, then turned to Carly. "I've got this."
He pushed the door open, and gestured for them to step in.
"You shouldn't be in the Glades, certainly not without protection. George shouldn't be letting you off the premises without someone to look after you." Diggle said, "It's not particularly safe out there for anyone right now—"
"Especially not a girl like me. Yeah, I got that. A few times now, actually. Also, not that it's relevant to the running issue here, but George resigned around the time you did." Thea said in a stubborn tome, ignoring the free chair in his office. She preferred standing. "I've started running out of options, though. My brother doesn't have very many friends, and I know that you were one of them-sort of. I was hoping that you could tell me where you saw him last."
Thea bit down on her lip, feeling overwhelmed with this sense of hope. That they were getting a step closer.
"He's the only family I have left. I've got to find him…I need to know that he's okay." Thea glanced around the room, her gaze settling on a photo of Diggle with that woman and a little boy. "Something makes me think that you can probably get that."
"I understand that, more than you know." Diggle told her, following where her glance lay, a sigh escaping as he ran his hand over his head. "But the last time I saw him was when I sent him off in the car after the scuffle with that photographer. Trust me, if Oliver doesn't want to be found…it's going to be hard to find him."
"Too bad for him then." Thea said crisply, she was damn tired of Oliver getting to run the show.
She wasn't going to spend her whole life being left behind.
"He fell off the ends of the earth once before, and they told us—they told us to give it up, that he was dead; but you know, there was always a little piece of me that believed that he made it. Don't you dare tell me to give up on him now. I'm not giving up on Ollie. Not when he needs me now, more than ever. You don't give up on family."
She got up to walk out the door, Roy closing the door behind them when Diggle gave in with a tired groan; rubbing the palm of his hand over his mouth, like he was already regretting what he was doing.
"I wasn't the last person to see him." Diggle said, shaking his head as he told her, with a hesitant and regretful look in his eyes. "Felicity Smoak. She works in IT at your family's company. She and Oliver….they have a close working relationship. He went to see her after the incident. Maybe she can tell you...help you put your mind at ease."
"Thank you." Thea told him, turning back to look at him. "Thank you so much. That's all I needed. I just wanted…a chance."
"I just hope you get what you're looking for." Diggle told her with a twinge of remorse in his voice, then turned to Roy with a slightly menacing look. "Watch out for her. Those streets aren't a safe place for any girl-anyone-right now."
"With my life." Roy said.
As they walked back through the kitchen, and into the restaurant, Thea stopped.
"What are you doing?" Roy asked her, glancing around in confusion.
"What I can." Thea told him, pulling her wallet from her purse.
At the register, she surprised Carly handing her a gold credit card, and a small wad of cash.
"What's that for?" Carly asked, eyebrows stitched together in confusion.
"There's a bunch of families in the alley next to your restaurant." Thea said, "I have no limit. Just charge it to me—I'm good for it."
She went to turn, "There's a mother there with a baby. I think she needs milk."
"You think this is going to fix it?" Carly asked her in a quiet voice. "They're only a fraction of the suffering in this town, sweetheart. You can't fix everyone with a sandwich."
"I'm not a superhero." Thea said, dropping her wallet back into her purse and fastening it shut. "I can only do what I can do."
She turned away, slipping her hand into Roy's.
"I know what you said," She told him as she followed him out of the restaurant, "But I had to."
"That's why you were wrong in there." Roy told her, "Right now, you might just be Thea Queen, but to those people tonight, who have nothing…you've their savior. You're giving them something to believe in."
"Everyone needs something to believe in." Thea said, glancing at him with a smile. "You taught me that."
"Yeah, well…" Roy sighed as they walked down the street. "I might have to stick to believing in the power of goodness through my girlfriend. You know, there hasn't been a single report of the vigilante since The Undertaking. Either he gave up on the city, or he's dead."
"Maybe he's just biding his time." Thea said.
"I just think you might have been right," Roy said with a twinge of regret. "Maybe he wasn't who I thought he was after all."
. . .
Diggle picked up the phone in his office, and stared at it for a moment, before dialing.
Carly wasn't going to like this, he had promised her that he'd wiped his hands of any involvement with Oliver or the Queen family, and he'd practically broke, trying to compel Felicity to step away and stop looking for Oliver. He was worried—no, he was sure—that if she kept looking, she would find him.
"I know you want to save him, Felicity." Diggle slipped into the booth across from her, catching the look that Carly was giving him.
He knew how she felt about him, Oliver might have been blind to the torch that Felicity carried for him, but he saw the way she looked at him. Saving him wasn't just about the mission—it was about him.
"Don't give me that look, Digg." Felicity told him, "I didn't come here for a lecture. I just thought that maybe you would have changed your mind, that after looking around and seeing how much worse the city has gotten that you'd want to try and change things too."
"That's what you're not getting." Diggle told her, "You can't help someone who doesn't want your help. You can't save a city that's intent on sinking. One person can't do it all on their own."
A slow, sort of sad smile crossed Felicity's face as she stood up, sliding out of the booth.
"Don't you think I know that? It's why I came to you."
It was inevitable, as adept at hiding as Oliver was, Felicity was as equally skilled at finding what—who—didn't want to be found. It had started to look like a frighteningly high stakes chess game that could only end with someone getting hurt.
He dialed security at the Queen Manor, finding it unbelievable that George had quit. The man had hand selected him to meet with Mrs. Queen, and not only was he thorough; George was the sort of man that didn't just take this as a job. George genuinely had cared about the Queen family, particularly, he'd seemed incredibly committed to Moira Queen.
If he was being honest with himself, he'd started to wonder while The Undertaking was approaching if George had a part in it.
"Security." The unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line, "Please state your code."
"Zero-zero-two." Diggle said, "John Diggle. I'm calling for George."
"Sorry, Digg, it's Jake Rancher." He said, "George resigned."
It was true. Diggle was shocked.
"Who's in charge down there, now Jake?"
"Well, it's a little bit of a mess." Jake told him, "Some of the team resigned, some just never came back after that business. It's not so bad though, it's just the girl."
Diggle felt a little tweak of annoyance. Right, that was why he didn't like Jake Rancher.
"Yeah, yeah…the girl. Giving you much trouble?"
"Nah," Jake said, "She doesn't leave much. Pretty much stays holed up in her wing of the house with that boyfriend of hers. Mrs. Queen wouldn't like it, but hey…what kid wouldn't take advantage of this?"
"Doesn't leave?" Diggle said, "Funny, because I just ran into her down in the Glades."
There was a long pause of silence on the other line.
"Well," Jake said finally, "You know how it is, how they can slip right past you. Luckily—"
"Save it." Diggle said, "You're going to need one hell of a better excuse when Oliver comes back and finds out his sister wasn't only cavorting around the Glades, but has been freely playing house with her boyfriend."
"He's coming back?" Jake asked. "I heard he left for Europe."
"You heard wrong. Is Kat still there?"
"Yeah, she's been working on media control. They loiter around the grounds worse than ever."
"Connect me to her." Diggle said, relieved that Jake hadn't questioned what business he had since technically he was no longer on the Queen payroll.
"Okay." Jake complied easily, seeming relieved to be done with Diggle.
"Kat James." She said.
"Kat, John Diggle. Remember that favor you owe me?"
"Yeah." She said, "Sort of how I also remember that you don't seem to be working here anymore—too bad though, we could use you, Digg."
"Thea Queen is walking around in the Glades without any protection." Diggle told her, "I don't know who screwed that up."
"Rancher is in charge." Kat told him, "Once George, and Marty, and Diana left he had the highest seniority."
"Who is supposed to be head of her detail?" Diggle asked, "I know Diana had been."
"Rancher." Kat said flatly, "He sort of lets her do her own thing since the axe incident."
"Axe?" Diggle asked, "What the hell is going on down there, Kat?"
"It's a strange time, Digg." Kat sighed, "Especially when you're calling to collect on a favor."
"It won't break the bank." Diggle told her, "I need you to drop what you're doing and take over for Thea. I want you to stay on her—don't let her shirk out of your sight. Keep me in the loop on her, okay?"
"Okay." Kat said, with a little bit of a laugh in her tone. "You're with him, aren't you?"
"Who?" Diggle asked.
He knew exactly who she was talking about, and it would be easier if he had been.
"Oliver." She said, "Tell him I'll take good care of his sister."
"Yeah, well if you can keep the boy out of her bed, I'm pretty sure he'll double your salary." Diggle told her. "Thanks Kat."
"Hey, you're the one who saved my ass." Kat told him, "I'll be in touch."
As he placed the phone back on the hook, there was a knock on his door again. So it was going to be one of those days, wasn't it? And the hits keep on coming.
"Come on in!" Diggle called, leaning back in his chair.
He closed the screen to his laptop as Carly walked into the office, with the disapproving look on her face, almost like she knew exactly what he was up to.
"What's going on John?" Carly closed the door behind her. "Why is it that everyone comes to you when they're trying to find Oliver? Felicity, the girl…do you really know something? Is Felicity hiding Oliver? I watch the news, you know. He didn't show up for that hearing, and if Felicity I harboring him while he shirks his duty—"
"If she was hiding Oliver Queen," Diggle said, feeling as close to a sense of amusement over this as he had since The Undertaking as he could get. "Trust me, she wouldn't be hanging around here."
"John, I know that you thought that he was different—"
"Carly, we've talked about it a hundred and one times." Diggle groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face.
"Well, I like cutting it even." Carly told him with a snap of frustration in her voice. "You told me that you were done with him, that you wouldn't have anything to do with them. So why were you telling the girl that she should go to Felicity to look for her brother?"
He should have known that Carly would have been eavesdropping.
"Because I'm not going to stand in the way of someone trying to pull their family together." Diggle told her, "Oliver is the only family she has left, and she might be the only person in the world he can pull himself together for."
"But you're not looking for him?" Carly asked him, with a look of quiet desperation in her eyes. "You're not actually looking for him, are you?"
"Carly, no." Diggle stressed. "I promised that I wouldn't, and I'm not."
"Okay." Carly nodded her head, seeming to believe him and letting it go.
The bell at the counter rang then, and Carly kissed him on the cheek before getting it.
"Okay John, I believe you."
So that was it, Diggle thought as the door to the office closed behind her, he didn't even need Oliver's help to fall into a hole of lies and deceit. He was doing just fine with it on his own.
Diggle couldn't even rank them in varying degrees of dishonesty. He didn't know the last time he'd been entirely honest with someone. When he had left Felicity in the basement, he had intended to follow through with what he'd told her.
He'd had no intent of continuing to chase down Oliver when Oliver wanted nothing to do with them. The problem with this was, however, he'd already lost a brother. There was no way of rescuing Andy, of ever getting him back—but there was still hope for Oliver.
There was no getting Felicity involved in this. He couldn't put her safety at risk when he didn't know for sure that he could keep her safe. Diggle just hoped that she would let go.
He supposed that he had overestimated how strong her survival instinct was, versus her feelings for Oliver.
As he flipped the computer open, watching again the security cameras in the Glades that were still up, realizing how useful this trick was. Diggle might not have had access to Felicity's full bag of tricks, but he knew that Glades, and he knew Oliver and sooner or later he would catch him and drag Oliver back out of the gutter if it killed him.
Thea Queen wasn't wrong, you don't give up on your family, and family didn't end with blood.
. . .
She didn't necessarily think that the Hood was the savior that Roy thought he was.
Thea sighed, resting her head against the window as Roy drove carefully out of the Glades and back into the city. It was worse than the first time she'd come back; almost like the city was continuing to degenerate, like the earthquake had never stopped.
Looking in on those poor people living in the alley, the dirty people who lined the streets in the Glades…she hadn't ever really seen the sort of poverty that this was before. Sure, her dad had dragged her along on his little learning trips to the soup kitchens and shelters in an effort to get Oliver to realize how he'd been wasting his life, and the sort of power they could have to change things for the better…but now more than ever she realized those trips were for Oliver.
Oliver was the one who was supposed to be this paragon of perfection; it was on his reluctant shoulders that the Queen mantle were meant to hang. He was the one who every one of their parent's hopes and dreams hung on. She might have been daddy's jewel, but Oliver was their prince.
She was allowed to tag along, because she cried and begged to be treated like a grown up. Thea had cajoled, and jumped at the opportunity to tag along with her big brother, and so Oliver would chuckle and shrug, telling her it wouldn't be any fun.
But she would plead, because anywhere that Oliver was going was fun, and he was with Laurel all the time.
So, he persuaded their dad, and she went along and was terrified.
Thinking of it now, Thea felt a sickening turn of her stomach, a blush of mortification on her cheeks. She'd been every bit as spoiled and selfish as everyone thought she was. Crying just because some woman with grizzled, dirty hands touched her pretty shiny hair, hiding at her father's side and gagging at the smells in the kitchen that she didn't like. Holding her nose up to the food when it was their time to sit at the folding tables with everyone else and partake in the simple meal.
More than anything else in the world, she wanted to be someone else than that little girl. She wanted to be someone better.
I'm going to be better, she thought. I won't be that self-indulgent jewel forever. I can change too.
"You forgot your seatbelt." Roy said, glancing over, and seeming to sense that she was feeling less than a hundred percent.
It had been one more lead to fizzle out. Thea felt discouraged. Sure, they had the name of some girl that her brother had known at the company, but it didn't mean anything. She was sure that since Ollie had returned from the island he had met any number of girls.
"That's a big concern I know, with all these cars on the road." Thea retorted sarcastically, sitting up and putting it on regardless of the mostly empty road.
When she looked back out the window though, she was finally stunned into something other than apathy.
"Roy! Roy, stop!" Thea yanked on her boyfriend's arm, ignoring as he swore quietly when the wheel jerked slightly, pointing across the street at a busy alley.
"Are you crazy?" Roy asked her, "I could have just killed us, Thea."
"Roy, look across the street!"
Thea's eyes narrowed as she studied the scene.
She might not know much, but if there was one thing she could recognize from even a mile away was the back of the cop who hated only one person on earth more than he hated Oliver. Where Detective Lance was, Thea couldn't help but to think, the Hood, and restoring her boyfriend's faith in him couldn't be far away.
"The strip club?" Roy raised an eyebrow, and shrugged after pulling the car against the sidewalk opposite the club. "I guess if I was a billionaire on the run that would be my first step."
"No, not Oliver." Thea rolled her eyes, besides that wasn't Oliver's taste.
As much as it disgusted her to consider the thought, Oliver had a penchant for good girls—and she meant good girls in the most literal sense. If he was holed up with a woman somewhere, she could guarantee that she was much less the stripper type, and more the quiet librarian type. They sort of seemed to fawn over him too, whether it was her brother the bad boy, heart breaking billionaire, or broody billionaire.
"In the alley." Thea gestured to the low-key detective and plain clothes investigators who were combing the scene. "Tell me that's nothing."
"Yeah," Roy scoffed, "Someone probably broke out a window. Who knows? It's not like the crime rate in the Glades has decreased recently. Since when are you so interested in the work of the Starling City PD?"
"Shut up…" Thea practically whispered, watching the scene intently. "Detective Lance doesn't investigate broken windows and petty robberies."
"Could have fooled me." Roy said.
Another time, she might have laughed. Now though, Thea was watching the scene, particularly the cop who was coming down a ladder that was planted across the side of the building. Unwilling to pull her glance from the window, she rifled in her bag blindly for her phone.
"What are you doing?" Roy asked her, sighing and shaking his head. "You realize that you're only setting yourself up for disappointment. I've played this game before—"
"Right, uh uh…" Thea said, quickly trying to get some kind of picture of the cop, or more specifically the short arrow looking thing he was holding in his hand. "Remind me again, how many people in Starling City rely on arrows as their thing?"
She handed her phone off to Roy, pointing at the half-size arrow—what was that then, a dart?—in the officer's hand.
"That's one of his." Roy said, with an excited gleam of possibility. "I've seen them. So…"
Thea smiled slightly, seeing the spark in her boyfriend's eyes that had been missing since the Hood appeared to give up, or possibly be marked as dead. It wasn't Oliver, but it was a small win.
"So, it looks like your hero is back in business." She gestured to the wheel, feeling a little spark of excitement herself. "We better get out of here though before Detective Lance spots us, or we'll be the ones in handcuffs."
. . .
Getting Oliver into her apartment had been a struggle. She'd forgotten how heavy he was. It had taken fifty dollars, and a badly constructed lie to persuade Henry the doorman to help her get Oliver into her apartment—hoping he didn't think that she was a news worthy psychopath who had slipped something in his drink. Even more than that, she hoped that as scruffy and messy as Oliver looked that Henry wouldn't recognize him as Oliver Queen. A story like this in the paper was the last thing he or his family needed.
However, Felicity decided, as she got another whiff of the liquor on his breath. It wasn't like the story she'd given Henry had been so far from the truth.
What's happened to you, Oliver? Felicity felt a wave of sadness as she looked over him, wishing that there was some magical solution to fixing him. Sewing him up, and treating the wounds was only going to do half the job.
You're better than this. You're a hero.
Oliver leaned back out of her reach as she tried to treat the ugly, ragged cuts on his body. Compared to cleaning and treating the gunshot wound, this was almost simple. At least, her stomach wasn't turning and threatening to expel its contents onto her floor.
In the beginning, she had faltered, her hand shaking nervously as she pulled his shirt open, and was faced with deep, discolored scars that accompanied the newest wounds. She didn't think that all the scar tissue was on the outside either.
"Oliver if you don't stop this, it's going to kill you." Felicity shook away the catch in her throat as she looked up at him, and his emotionless green eyes.
Oliver seemed to have decided to ignore her.
She gritted her teeth, biting down on her tongue. It was too easy, and she wasn't taking the easy path. She swore that she would save Oliver if it was the last thing she did.
"I've had worse." Oliver said, in an impersonal, almost unfriendly tone.
As if I haven't noticed? And she had, time and time again since she'd met him. At one point, it used to keep her up at night, wondering what exactly had happened to her on the island. She couldn't pinpoint when exactly it had stopped though.
Now Oliver gave her new nightmares to face.
Felicity swallowed a little nervously, as she pushed him back into a chair. A chill ran though her body as he complied, and she set to work at dabbing the cut on his face with a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic. He looked like he'd lost a fight against a Mack truck. None of that was what really got to her though, when she looked into his eyes, it was like he was lifeless. He didn't have that spark that the Oliver she knew had.
"I'm not talking about this." Felicity said, determined to take her stand and say her piece as she took his face in between her thumb and forefinger and turned it slightly rougher than she meant to.
Oliver had run away from everyone else, but she wasn't letting him do it to her.
She didn't know where the hero went to, but Felicity was willing to do whatever it took to bring him back. His family needed him, this city needed him, and as much as she didn't want to admit it; as much as it scared her to admit it, she needed him too.
He made a promise to her, that they would save the city. It wasn't a promise she would let him break.
"I don't regret it." Felicity said in a strong voice. "I still believe in you, Oliver. A lot of people do, you know."
Oliver ignored her, as he seemed to do with everyone these days.
"How did you find me?" Oliver asked her, his voice ripe with annoyance.
"I used a psychic." Felicity said her voice tinged with enough sarcasm to mask her fear.
She was scared. Oliver was fractured. Felicity didn't know who he was before the island; the playboy enigma that the city had been fascinated with, but she knew the hero that had given her something to finally believe in. This guy wasn't him.
This guy was a shell with a death wish.
"That's funny". Oliver grunted as she stitched the cut, none too gently. "I never mentioned how funny you are."
He took a swig from the bottle of gin he'd unearthed in the kitchen, while she had been fetching her first aid kit. Felicity let that go, they had bigger problems to deal with at the moment apart from his blood alcohol content.
"You're sort of a jerk right now." Felicity said in a quiet voice as she finished stitching his cut. "You know that?"
"Yeah." Oliver smiled grimly, "You're getting the picture now."
He raised the bottle to her before taking a swig.
"Oliver, look, I know…" Felicity shook her head, setting the tools down. "It doesn't matter that you don't care about me. It's never been about me, but you should go back to your family at least. You know how much Thea loves you, and she's hurting…"
She bit down on her lip, her voice trailing off. Somehow, she couldn't quite form the words herself. Felicity could hardly imagine what Thea Queen was going through, and all she wanted was her brother to be there for her.
"Your mother loves you too." Felicity reminded him, nervously turning the needle over in her hand. "And as mad as you are at her, Thea's having to deal with this now—she's eighteen, and her mother…"
"Say it." Oliver said, his voice terse. "Our mother is a criminal, and probably going to prison. Hundreds of people are dead, hundreds more are injured, leagues of families are homeless...do you really need me to keep going Felicity?"
"You want me to say it, Oliver? Fine, I will! Yes, all of that is true and your sister is upset, her world is falling apart and she's only eighteen years old. She needs her brother! She needs you!"
Felicity threw down her arms in frustration, feeling this unbelievable urge to hit him.
Honestly, she thought that Oliver needed Thea too. He needed something to anchor him here, keep him human, and she was coming up with nothing.
"And not this you. The you that you were when I met you. So you know what? Abandon the arrows, drop your bow, and let the city pick itself back up, if you have to; but she needs you Oliver. The rest of us can get by, but she needs for you to go be her brother."
Oliver was fuming at her, in the dark silence, through gritted teeth, he made it startlingly clear that he was irate.
Felicity supposed that it wasn't just that he was angry with her; but that he was feeling so many different shades of anger that he couldn't quite settle on one. In one fell swoop she'd hit him at his two most sensitive areas: his sister, and his honor.
That was fine with her, because frankly, she wasn't so very happy with him either right now. This was not her guy—not the hero she believed in, not like this. She was angry, and disappointed, and hurt…but most of all, she was scared.
She was scared, because she didn't know what to do. Oliver was the leader, he was the one who gave them some sort of direction, and he made the mission. Taking the lead now, having it fall on her shoulders now to make the right decisions…it terrified her.
She wasn't the hero. It wasn't supposed to be like this.
But looking around, she didn't really see any other option.
He hadn't really said much to her while she was digging the bullet out of his shoulder, save a few colorful obscenities. Felicity had been too nervous as she was working on it to do much other than try and focus on what Digg had taught her, and if this stubborn jerk would have just let her call him; well, maybe it wouldn't have hurt so badly.
For that, he had no one to blame but himself. She didn't have the military medical training—she was the IT girl—all in all, Felicity was pleased that she got through it without throwing up. The old Felicity never could have done this.
Oliver wasn't the only one who'd changed, she thought.
"Felicity." Oliver snapped, pressing his hand against his bandaged shoulder, like he was reprimanding her.
She internalized the sharpness, refusing to let it get to her. Oliver was not going to intimidate her. If he was upset now, she could only imagine what a mood he would be in if he knew how she was spending her night now.
Her glance drifted past him, to the files from Detective Lance that she'd left sitting on her coffee table. Oliver could reprimand her and her actions all that he wanted to, but the fact of the matter was—he had no one to blame but himself. He brought her into this, he made her believe that one person could make a difference in the world, and she wasn't walking away from that.
Felicity returned to Oliver, looking his battered face over, and feeling a wave of remorse. He'd been hurt protecting her, he'd killed to keep her safe—but maybe, just maybe if you hadn't found him he'd be the one who was killed.
"You should be fine…mostly." Felicity said, with a cool clip to her tone as she taped gauze over the wound. "You're lucky that I have a well-stocked first aid kit."
"Lucky?" Oliver said, getting up from the stool in her kitchen, incredulous at her response. "Felicity, do you understand that you're lucky to be alive? What you did was so incredibly…"
Oliver gestured angrily with his hand, but she stood her ground refusing to be intimidated into submission. If anything, it was good to see Oliver feeling something. Anger had propelled him once, and if it could do the same again, she was fine with it. He needed to start feeling something again.
Just getting him to stay, to care was the first step.
"Clever?" Felicity supplied, cocking her head. "You know, I always was an overachiever."
"Stupid." Oliver told her with a shake of his head, pressing the palm of his hand against the sore wound.
He winced, pacing the room like a caged animal, then turning back on her as he walked around the room, stopping at the other end of her couch, like being around her required that sort of space
"You've always been naïve, Felicity. God, incredibly so!" Oliver shook his head, clearly frustrated with her. "But I've never seen you act so…suicidally stupid! You're lucky to be alive after that idiotic stunt!"
"Oh, oh…" Felicity nodded her head, feeling the irony of this situation as she nodded her head, throwing her arms out in his direction.
That was….fine. Maybe he had saved her, but she had saved him too! She deserved that much recognition. This time, they had saved each other.
She never would have imagined that wanting to save Oliver would result in wanting to kill him.
"Oh my god, you're so right, how could I be such a ditz? You know, it's the blonde thing—I'm so sure it's that, or that I'm just a silly girl. I'm obviously too dim to understand the complexities of this situation!"
She felt her blood boil as she looked at him now. It still felt like he could see right through her, like he could latch onto every ounce of insecurity that she was feeling, and….
Felicity squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, and took a calming breath. He's trying to push you away, he's trying to make you not care. Don't take the bait.
"You're scared and looking for someone to cling to." Oliver told her, turning his back on her and looking out the balcony door with a sigh. "I'm not that guy, Felicity. You'll have to find someone else."
The cold comment zinged through her like an electric shock. Of all the things that Oliver could say to her, of all the ways that he could choose to try and hurt her, he took the one thing that hurt the most, and threw it in her face.
His back still facing her, Felicity turned on her heel, yanking her jacket off of the hook on the wall, and scanning the room for her bag. She knew that if she stayed her another minute, another second, all this emotion would boil over into tears and he would be right. She would only prove to him that she was a naïve girl out of her element.
Besides, this time she was walking away. This time, she wasn't going to be the one left behind.
"What are you doing?" Oliver asked her, as he turned around to see her scanning the room for her bag. "Felicity…"
"Oliver!" Felicity cried out, trying desperately to make him see that what he was doing was crazy. "I don't care. Whatever it is—I don't care. You're wrong. You're wrong and you're tearing everything down. Everything that we worked towards for half a year, and there is nothing that you can say that will make it okay! You can't make throwing yourself down in the gutter okay!"
He wasn't only hurting himself. Oliver was so far past being able to only hurt himself. There were too many people who loved him.
Thea, his mother, Diggle (Felicity knew, no matter how mad Diggle might be…he wouldn't give up on Oliver, not really)…
Me.
Felicity bit down on the inside of her mouth, feeling the swell of emotion when she looked at him. She wasn't stupid. She was well aware of the fact that they both easily could have died today.
"C'mon Felicity..." Oliver tilted his head up toward her and shook his head once before sighing. "You said it yourself, you were only in it to save Walter. Walter's fine, and there is nothing holding you back from putting 100 percent into your job."
You are—were, Felicity thought. I wanted something more than a job, I wanted what you were offering, Oliver.
Oliver's voice softened for a moment, as if it had occurred to him that somewhere during his tirade, he had gone too far, been too hard on her.
"I'm not stopping you. As a matter of fact, you absolutely should. Don't worry about me. Try living your life instead of managing mine."
Felicity's eyes narrowed together, and she knew she was getting that pinched feeling that came from trying to not cry. And she would not—no, she would not cry in front of Oliver.
"Fine." Felicity said in a high pinched tone, swallowing over the lump in her throat.
Finally, she saw her bag, resting on the table next to where Oliver stood, pretending she didn't feel anything when she brushed against him. Pretended it didn't get to her at all when his hand grazed her arm.
She remembered the files that Detective Lance had given her on the table, the first aid kit nearly obscuring them. She grabbed them roughly, and the kit tumbled to the floor, garnering Oliver's attention to her again.
"Felicity," Oliver asked, his eyes following the path of the files. "What are those? What are you doing with police files?"
He strode across the room towards her, his glance riveted upon the files.
"Work." She snapped at him, shoving them in her purse. "And since you're still not caring, it's not really any of your business, is it?"
"Felicity," Oliver stepped closer to her, grabbing her arm as she turned away from him. "Whatever you're involved with, just drop it. It's dangerous."
"Well, I guess I'm not the only one who can't manage someone else's life." Felicity told him.
For the first time that night, Oliver seemed stunned into silence. Good, she thought, wondering how he liked being the one on rocky terrain. Their places were switched just as easily when Oliver smoothly yanked the files from
Felicity stopped for one moment by the door, shaking her head at him. "You win, okay? I was the naïve, stupid girl you think I am. I mean, I'm the one who was stupid enough to believe that you would change us all, and change this city."
She squeezed her eyes shut as she turned away from him, realizing she'd broken the vow she'd made. But what if she wasn't capable of it? You can't save someone who won't let you.
"Felicity!" Oliver called after her once she reached the door, scrubbing his hand over his mouth. "Felicity, just…don't go. Not if that's what you're going to. It's going to get you killed."
"Oliver, make up your mind!" Felicity told him. "You don't get to be in this half-way, and you don't have the privilege of telling me what I can and cannot do. The great thing about walking away, is that you don't have to worry what trouble this stupid, naive blonde head is into."
Oliver appeared to be struggling with some response to that, still holding the files out of reach.
"You know what, that's fine. Why don't you hold onto those in case you change your mind?" Felicity said.
Heading into the hall, she slammed the door closed hard behind her, not even bothering to wonder if he had it in him to come after her.
. . .
"I'm starting to think that I don't know anyone as remotely well as I think I did."
With a tired sigh, Thea tossed the tablet she had taken from Tommy's down on the table, and turned on her heel to face Roy. So that was a waste of petty theft, anyways.
After not being able to find Felicity at the office, she was discouraged and annoyed all over again. It was like the world was conspiring against ever making it so that she could find Oliver.
"I mean, c'mon, I knew him my entire life. If we're being realistic—I've actually spent more time with Tommy than my brother!" Thea threw her arm out, gesticulating crossly at the tablet. "He wasn't a complex guy, and I've tried everything. His birthday, his first pet, his favorite Coldplay album, his mom's name, her birthday…"
She dropped down on the couch next to Roy, folding her arms over her chest.
"And I thought I was the one in this family with all the secrets." Thea shook her head as she looked over at him, "You ever think that maybe someone isn't exactly what you thought they were?"
"You mean sort of like the way I thought you were a spoiled trust fund baby?" Roy said with a grin, trying to wheedle a smile out of her. "Now I know that you're—"
"Completely amazing, extraordinarily beautiful…." Thea supplied, leaning her head back and looking up at him. "Careful how you finish that sentence Harper, remember my aim is impeccable."
God, those eyes. Thea was pretty sure that it was his eyes that she fell in love with first. They were filled with this clarity, this quiet determined confidence that assured her every time that she looked at him that everything was just going to work out.
"Just the girl for me…as long as you'll have me." Roy kissed her, pulling back and wrapping his arms around her.
Thea leaned back against his chest, feeling a tickle of conviction herself.
"Everyone has secrets you know," Roy told her. "It doesn't mean that you don't know them-sometimes, it means they don't know themselves. And when people are keeping secrets-in my experience-it's for a good reason. It doesn't have anything to do with how much you love someone."
Thea laughed a little, "Wow."
She figured it would be better not to ruin the moment by letting him know that he'd sort of been channeling her brother there. That might make things a little weird.
"Wow what?"
"You're a smart guy, Roy Harper." She nudged him with her elbow. "Smart enough to crack the tablet?"
Roy snorted, "Sorry, I think we reached the cap on my genius."
Thea groaned, shaking the tablet in frustration.
"We need help."
Roy didn't disagree. As confused as Thea was, nothing was seeming any clearer to him. A mystery tech girl, a bodyguard who defected to a burger joint...and it was only the beginning of things that just didn't add up.
They weren't any closer to finding Thea's brother, but they were closer to finding—proving that the Hood was still out there, and he felt like they were close-so close to finding something, to something happening.
He couldn't help but to think that just maybe, if they found the Hood, well, then he could help them. It sounded crazy, but he felt like the Hood could help them find Oliver. He felt like the Hood was the kind of guy who would help them.
Telling Thea all of this, it was too crazy now. It wasn't like he had proof of anything, just a lot of hoping and guessing, and one address that he had stolen from reception when they dropped by the company to try and find Felicity Smoak.
Apparently she'd defected too, because no one seemed to remember seeing her come to work since The Undertaking. If they hadn't bumped into her at the police station, Roy would have been ready to accept that their only fresh lead on the search for Thea's brother was gone too.
He just hoped that she'd be the missing piece to the puzzle. If he could find Thea's brother, she would be so distracted by him he bet she wouldn't even notice his search for the Hood.
It was hardly a lie, just a secret he would keep until he had enough proof that she wouldn't be disappointed.
"Don't worry." Roy held his arm around her. "We'll find this girl, and at the very least she should be able to get into this tablet. That kind of thing, it's like her job right?"
"We'll do it together." Thea smiled, nodding her head at her boyfriend.
"Together." Roy agreed.
. . .
He couldn't keep sitting in the Queen Manor. Nothing made sense anymore, and he couldn't help the swirling vortex of questions that were sucking away at him since they had gone to the Glades.
It felt like the things that he knew, he didn't…totally know. Like he just needed one thing to come up, one concrete piece of evidence that something was right, that he was doing the right thing before his head exploded.
Slipping away from Thea's new bodyguard, a young slim brunette woman was easier than he would have thought. Slipping away from Thea after he had promised her that they would do this together though, that filled him with guilt.
Roy needed to figure some of this out though, and as badly as he needed to know about the Hood, finally find some answers about life—he wasn't going to risk Thea.
It wasn't like he'd ever really thought that there was a plan in the world, or that the world had a plan for him. In his experience, the world was filled with a lot of random, cruel, unpredictable violence interspersed with moments of good.
It wasn't until he met Thea though that it felt like there was any kind of balance at all. Before her, it pretty much just felt like it was split into bad and worse. After Thea, it was like his life just changed.
Everything worth happening, did.
The Hood was a part of that. Thea thought that he worshiped him, but that wasn't it. It wasn't even partially it. He'd never been a religious guy, but The Hood had come into his life at the very moment that he'd given up, he gave him a second chance at life at the very same moment that he'd been offered a fresh start, when he'd been forced to take some accountability for his life, and...
Roy let out a breath as he hurried through the crisp night air, knowing that he was taking a risk. It wasn't the streets he was afraid of. People were scared after The Undertaking, and it wasn't necessarily that the world had gotten worse, it was that it was spreading. Before, all this violence and all this fear had been contained in the Glades. Just as long as you didn't drop below East Central Street, you were just fine to carry on with your life.
But now it was everywhere. He wasn't scared for himself, he'd lived it his entire life. He'd been born into the Glades, and he figured he probably would die there the same way a lot of guys did
These people though… Roy glanced at the people who scurried past him on the street, they had no idea how bad it was going to get.
The police were out of their element. The gangs might be scattered now, it might look like a lot of random, unorganized violence, but sooner or later someone would organize it. After they were organized…he knew that it would get bad. There were a lot of powerful guys in the Glades, and there were a lot of people who wanted revenge. They wanted the city to pay.
It scared him because he had someone to worry about. The choices for who they could target for payback were getting slimmer and slimmer—he'd never say it to Thea, but if some of those people found her brother he wasn't going to make it out of there alive. Oliver Queen made a perfect scapegoat—not only was he the golden son, he had stood by all this time to do nothing as his company crashed.
Now the people who hadn't lost their homes in The Undertaking were going to lose them to the banks. He didn't understand how one person could be that selfish.
There were people who were going to take the tragedy, and take all this building fear and anxiety and turn it into something horrible. Maybe he was just some kid from the Glades with a GED, but he had to try and do something.
Because of her. Thea had decided that he was worth believing in, and he was not going to let her down, or let anything happen to her.
God, he didn't know why, but for some reason she had decided that she loved him. He'd never figure it out. She was a girl who could have anyone in the world, and she chose some broke, nobody from the Glades.
He wanted to be somebody, someone that she could be proud of. Roy shoved his hands deep in his pockets, hood covering his face in the night as he rushed down the street
He didn't want to be a nobody his whole life. His father was a nobody rotting in the Starling City jail.
He wanted to be better than that. Roy needed to be better than that. So…maybe he wasn't some superhero in a hood...but he wanted to be something more than he was.
He felt bad for doing this without Thea, but before he could bring her into this, and before anything else happened, he needed to get some answers.
After she went to sleep, he'd slipped out of the manor, and set on a path to find this girl.
There were a lot of things that he...it didn't seem right. He knew that Tommy and Oliver had paid off an inspector in the Glades, and maybe it was connected to the Undertaking. He didn't want to think that a guy like Tommy, who'd been the only one apart from the Hood could have a part in that…
He didn't believe it though. But there was something that just wasn't right. Especially this Felicity Smoak.
None of it had clicked right away, but when he saw a picture of her, he recognized her right away. He'd seen her at the club time and time again, usually leaving the basement late at night; sometimes with Oliver. She was always there, always with him in that locked basement.
Once he'd thought she was Oliver's girlfriend, but Tommy had corrected him. She's a close friend.
Who was always around? Roy realized, which in and of itself wasn't so weird.
Until he considered what he overheard at the police station, the conversation she'd had with Detecitve Lance, and the police files that were peeking out of her bag when Thea bumped into her.
Except, she lied to the cop telling him she didn't know Oliver that well, and then Diggle telling them that Felicity had been the last person to see Oliver. Why was she lying about it? And if Felicity wasn't at the police station answering questions about her boss, what was she doing, and why was some lowly computer repair girl, being slipped police files?
Why did everyone seem to be full of half-truths?
He had a million questions, and then some, and not even remotely enough answers.
...
Fine.
So she was lying to herself.
Felicity pulled her jacket around her shoulders, a coldness in the early winter night air. She was angry at herself from walking away from Oliver, and she was angry at him for pushing her away. They'd proved each other right in the worst way, and she hated it.
However much he had hurt her, she knew that he was hurting himself more. She also saw that as cruel as his words had been—she saw a glimmer of the Oliver who would take a bullet for her as he yanked the files from her hand.
Not that it would stop her, he had to know she had backups of the research she was doing at Verdant.
With the anger and frustration bubbling over in her chest, she made the way from her apartment to the parking garage.
She had lied in a way, the city was worse than ever and it needed the emerald guardian to protect them. Felicity had been warming up to that name, it was what he is—was. Oliver was a guardian.
Felicity had never really known such blinding anger until she met Oliver. It was like he was throwing his life away, like…
Like if Tommy didn't get to live his life, he couldn't live one either.
She glanced around before hurrying across the street and down the next block to the garage.
Ironically, Malcolm's plan to wipe out crime had done the opposite. Crime had skyrocketed. Her neighborhood, in the heart of Starling City once a sort of artsy haven for the middle class had become a place where one didn't go out at night unless they were willing to risk the lawlessness that came out of this tragedy.
So she was always on alert, always waiting and ready with the vigilance that Digg had warned her about in the beginning, and the taser she'd bought illegally. She still couldn't bring herself to carry the gun, it didn't matter; even after his lessons on arms and the pointing and the triggers…she didn't think she could do it.
If this argument with Oliver had reminded her of anything, it was that she hadn't changed nearly as much as she thought she had.
With a sigh, she entered the garage, rifling through her purse for her keys and hoping against hope that in her brutal storm out she hadn't left them hanging on the hook. Somehow she thought the sting of her leaving would be impeded if she was to return to face Oliver again and retrieve her keys.
"Arrow Girl." The Russian voice pierced through the darkness, and hit her in a wave of eclipsing icy fear.
So, you didn't kill her then. Good, that's good, right? Nervously, Felicity swallowed stopping where she stood.
"Drop your bag."
Felicity complied and turned around, seeing her with a new guy this time. A tall, muscular man with thick dark hair and a short, closely trimmed beard. She caught herself cataloging his features, as if she was actually going to survive this.
She shouldn't have walked away from Oliver. He was right. She was so far out of her element. Even if she screamed, she knew that he would never get here in time—even if he could hear her.
"Where is he?" she asked, accent shading the consonants sharply.
"I um…" Felicity took a slow breath, glancing down at her bag and the taser inside of it.
"Where is he?" She shrieked, "Alexi!"
"No!" Felicity screamed, certain that this was the part where the story of Felicity Smoak would come to a rapid end. "No—"
Alexi grabbed her yanking her blonde hair back in one hand as he held her in a vise like grip with a silver knife against her throat that gleamed in the subdued light.
"Irina, she knows nothing." Alexi said, pressing the knife closer into her throat, making her afraid to so much as breathe.
"Where is Connor Hawke?" Irina demanded, "You are not as stupid as you look. You rescued him with your arrows, and killed Vitaly."
Felicity supposed now was not the time to nitpick, with a knife threatening her carotid artery, and two murderously angry Russians who seemed ready to take it out on her. Besides, she may as well have been guilty of killing him.
"Why—why should I tell you?" Felicty asked, grasping at the single chance she could figure as she felt the knife breaking the skin. "You'll kill me anyways."
Irina chuckled, gesturing Alexi to fall back.
"I'm ashamed. We've been rude."
After Alexi stepped away, Irina laid a hard blow to the side of her head, and she stumbled to the floor of the garage. She let out a cry of pain that echoed in the dark night, realizing that this time she really was on her own.
On the ground, she heard Irina yelling but it felt like a dull buzz in her head. Alongside, Oliver's words seemed to echo like he'd known this was coming. She was just a girl, just a smart girl…
Be smarter.
Her heart racing, thumping painfully against her chest, she dug her nails into the pavement and crawled up, chancing a glance at her bag less than an arm's length away.
"I want Connor Hawke!" Irina bellowed, "I want to rip his lungs from his chest—"
There was a sound somewhere in the garage, and for a moment Felicity's heart skipped. Oliver.
"Go see what that is." Irina ordered Alexi. "Take care of it."
While she turned, Felicity grabbed for the taser. Slipping her hands into her open bag and clutching her hand around the cold, black plastic device, and hiding it inside the sleeve of her sweater before looking back up as Irina returned her attention to her.
"Don't be stupid enough to die for that man, I assure you, he would not return the favor. Help us, and I'll grant you a reprieve from Alexi's knife."
"Yeah," Felicity swallowed, "He's a monster. You're right. I'd be stupid to die for him."
"Ah," Irina smiled widely, nodding her head. "You are a smart girl."
"It's not worth my life. But you have to promise, promise you won't kill me." Felicity said.
"You have my most solemn vow as a Christian woman." Irina said, "I'll harm not a hair on that little blonde head."
There was a muffled cry across the garage, and Irina turned.
"Alexi!" She called, "What are you doing?"
Silence filled the garage again, and with a racing heart and heavy breathing Felicity lunged at her with the taser. Irina seemed to see the attack coming, and kicked it from Felicity's hands. Felicity tried to run for it, but Irina tripped her, punching her hard in the side.
"Help!" Felicity screamed, "Help me!"
Irina had gotten ahold of her own knife, and Felicity felt a painful slash of the blade across her arm as she struggled to shake off the taller Russian woman and reach the taser.
"I'm going to enjoy tearing that blonde head from its shoulders." Irina yelled.
Felicity struggled, freeing her arms and elbowing Irina in the face, hearing the crack of bone. It gave her a second's time extra to pull from her onslaught and grab the taser. This time, Felicity didn't hesitate.
She grabbed it and shot the electrodes at Irina, who howled in pain with the shock. For a moment, she relaxed until she heard boots on the pavement behind her and swung around with the gun in her hands, adrenaline zinging through her body.
"Hey! Stop!" The male voice shouted, holding his hands up in surrender to her. "I'm not here to hurt you."
Taking note of the small lean frame in the dark hoodie she realized he was not one of them. He was probably the one who had distracted them.
Felicity pushed her wild, wavy hair off of her face, and looked him over, unable to make out a face through the shadow of the hood.
Whoever he was, he'd probably saved her life.
. . .
"You're her."
It was with a stunned sort of realization that Roy turned, taking a step backwards from the petite blonde and her taser, and tugged his hood off of his head.
"Oh my god." Felicity's hands fumbled as she tried to tuck the taser away. "You're uh...huh…wow."
Her eyes went big for a moment, "Thea's boyfriend."
"Well, I guess you've got the unfair advantage," Roy told her. "I don't know who you are. Or maybe I should say what the hell you are."
"We should get out of here." Felicity said, gesturing to the woman on the floor of the parking garage who stirred slightly. "There's someone else, and it isn't save. I highly doubt this was a lucky coincidence."
"Not really many of those left in Starling City." Roy shoved his hands in the pockets of his dark red hoodie, and followed her. "I wouldn't worry about the big Russian guy, I took him out."
"He was a big guy." Felicity said, her head tilting slightly to the side as she looked him over.
"Finesse beats brute force everytime." Roy told her.
She stopped on front of a dark blue coupe, struggling to get her keys from her bag.
"Hey," he asked, eyebrows stitched together as he saw her face look like it was about to crumple into a mass of tears. A ugly cut ran through her eyebrow, and around the edge of her eye. "Are you okay?"
He saw the dark bruise on her face, and the matted bloodstain on her arm.
When he'd come looking for Felicity Smoak this hadn't been what he expected. She wasn't the computer nerd he expected.
She seemed a lot tougher than he would have pegged her for being.
"Fine." Felicity smiled across the car, holding up the keys. "I'm going to be fine. Thanks for your help."
She unlocked the car, and nudged her head towards him, "Get it."
...
She had allowed a small part of her to carry the smallest of hopes when she'd been attacked.
It hadn't felt entirely out of the realm of possibility that Oliver had come for her, that Oliver had shaken off the grey despair that seemed to envelop him to rescue her.
But no such luck.
She glanced into the passenger seat, and saw Roy glancing into the backseat once, and then a second time.
Hopefully, Emily had retained her forgiving sprit, because this car wasn't only getting a lot of mileage—it still had that awful stain in the backseat from where Oliver had bled after their first confrontation with Irina.
"What?" She asked, and the look on his face, furrowed brow and frown that marred a young face with old eyes.
"Who are you?" Roy swallowed, "The seat-it's covered in blood."
A wry smile crossed her face as she thought of the old Oliver. Her Oliver.
"You think I need to be told that? It's been a rough couple of weeks." She told him.
"You're telling me." Roy said, "The thing is...you don't seem all that surprised, or concerned. You're not what I expected."
"Remind me to be insulted later." Felicity smiled slightly as she pulled out of the parking garage, "No offense, but you're not exactly what I expected either. You have great timing though, I thought the clock had ticked out on me. You saved my life."
"I'm no hero or anything." Roy said. "I heard a scream."
"And you came running." Felicity told him, "If that doesn't make a hero, what does?"
"I've been trying to answer that question for a long time now." Roy told her. "Is that uh…look, you gotta level with me. You've not just some geek squad girl. Who are you? Who were those people—what is this?"
Felicity felt a smile cross her mouth, a spark that she'd been missing for too long now.
"I guess that depends. Are you looking for the easy answer, or are you looking for the truth, Roy?"
Roy swallowed as he looked over at her.
"The truth. I want the truth."
. .