Thank you Yseult for your doing such a great job as my Betareader, giving me tips on how to improve my style and enhance parts of my story.

Thanks also for Yseult and Aii (AO3), my most faithful reviewers. I am so glad for having you around. You keep my spirits up.

Thanks also for the favorites and follows. But I love a comment even more!

Last time: Felicity glanced at Dig and Roy, shrugging her shoulders innocently. "Uhpps!"

xoxoxo

The world around him consisted of darkness and wavering shadows, they covered him like a heavy blanket. And he'd been tucked in so firmly that he couldn't escape. His thoughts, the few he could manage, drifted somewhere where neither time nor matter seemed to exist, just sensations. Cold. He hated it, when the coldness returned; it crawled slowly through his veins, pricked at his skin with its icy needles and froze him to his very core. He liked the numbness better, just drifting thoughtless and weightless through the black void, were nothing existed, not even he himself. But what he feared most, was the return of the dark, formless specters that sometimes haunted his waking thoughts.

A sudden explosion of pain registered with his brain, its epi-centers located on both sides of his jaw, from which pulsing, icy waves now shot into his body, slowly spreading from his neck downwards, mapping and outlining his body, thus giving back form to what prior had been a formless mass floating in the black void. It hurt…

The pleas for the pain to stop got stuck in his throat, as a wave of gooey mass rolled down his tongue, making him gag and cough violently until his body's self-preservation instincts kicked in and made him swallow reflexively. With the foul brew gone, the pulsing pain on his jaw left as suddenly as it had appeared. And he was able to breathe again. In. Out. In. Out…

Slowly a new sensation took over his body, a sort of numbness, but it was different from the one he had felt before. This one wasn't cold or detached, it felt more like a warm blanket enfolding his body and senses in a soft, tender embrace, creating an impenetrable barrier between him and the pain and the dark void beyond. It made him feel calm, something he hadn't felt in… he couldn't even remember anymore.

He sighed, turned away from the darkness and into the soft folds of his new blanket, letting blessed, dreamless sleep claim him.

xoxoxo

Maseo gazed in wonder down at the small, empty vial in his hands, its contents now administered to the man laying beneath him in calm slumber. The contents, whatever they had been, seemed to have eased his torment, driven out the ghost that had haunted his waking and sleeping moments, to let him finally find the rest he so desperately needed to recover from the effects of the pit. A relieved sigh escaped Maseo's lips, one he hadn't been aware of holding.

Closing his fist around the small bottle, he hid it back in the folds of his tunic. He was glad he had made the right decision in trusting Halari, giving Oliver the vial's contents. It had been a gut instinct, but one he had learned to trust over the years, because it had seldom led him astray. Yes, he had been made to train Oliver by Waller, but nobody had made him give the boy the title of 'friend'. That had been his own decision, one he had never regretted. Trust your instincts - it had been Tatsu, who had taught him this lesson and it was his way of honoring her memory.

After he had made the decision it had just been a matter of finding a way to do it without anybody finding out about it. So he had checked the guard roosters to see when the next rotation would take place. Turning up a few minutes before that, he had sent the guards on their way with the promise to watch Oliver until the next shift arrived. He had waited until they had turned the corner at the end of the torch-lit corridor, his gaze following their shadows until he couldn't trace them anymore and their footsteps fell silent. Even then he still had waited, counting the beats of his racing pulse in his head - seconds ticked by in agonizing slowness - until he had finally felt confident enough to enter the cell. He had slid back the bolt with extreme care and pulled the old door open slowly to reduce the noise, before slipping in on silent feet.

Because he had had to do this alone, it had been a matter of speed; grasping Oliver's jaw, forcing it open and dumping the contents of the vial in his mouth. When the coughing and spluttering had started, he had clamped a hand across his friend's mouth, so he wouldn't spit the fluid out, only letting go, when had been sure that Oliver had swallowed it. He had let go then, as to not cause him further pain, an obvious conclusion, judging by Oliver's reaction to touch. Within seconds the man seemed to relax, his breath slowly easing, until his head had finally lolled bonelessly to the side.

Now here Maseo stood, looking down in wonder at the man, finally daring to hope things would take a turn for the better. Whatever this better would be, it surely couldn't be worse than this. He shook himself from his musings, silently slipping out the cell, closing the door and resetting the bolt, just in time for the next set of guards to appear.

Xoxoxo

The flight had been an uneventful for the trio. Being on a commercial flight had its disadvantages, they couldn't really discuss strategy or make plans. Too many prying ears. So Roy had decided to, as he had so eloquently put it, catch up on some seriously needed hours of zzzs Between working at Verdant and his Arsenal duties, a job he felt wholly unprepared of doing alone without his mentor, the one thing he seriously lacked, was sleep. Felicity had downloaded the blueprints of Banff's airport prior to leaving the Foundry the day before, hoping they would come in handy. So while Roy had slept the sleep of the young and righteous, Diggle and her had studied the blueprints and, communicating without words, had marked weak spots and possible points of entry he and Roy could use later this night. The real planning would have to be done later. When the plane had landed they had chartered a flight in a small Cessna, same as Nyssa had done, to get to their final destination, which they had reached as of 30 minutes ago.

Night was fast approaching, as the sun descended behind the high, snow-covered summits of the Rocky Mountains, bathing the town beneath them in their lengthening shadows and turning the stone giants themselves into dark, looming sentinels. Felicity shivered, drew her winter-coat and scarf tighter around herself and the red woolly-hat deeper into her face, because with the rising darkness the temperature, which had been already freezing, dropped another few notches. If she could, she would have drawn in her neck like a turtle. Sadly, nature hadn't equipped her with that ability and so she was left to stand shivering and with shattering teeth in this parking-lot. At least the look was quite similar, with her peering out in the small slit left between the thick, knitted scarf and her hat.

"I've got the keycards," Diggle announced, returning from the manager's office of the small roadside motel they had chosen as their temporary base of operation. It wasn't too far removed from the airport, the main reason why they had chosen it. Because, to be realistic, scrambling in a red leather-suit or, in Dig's case face hidden with a balaclava, through a small town like Banff or through Starling, with its high-rises, large blocks, dark streets and alleys, which one could hide or disappear in,… there was a a huge difference. Keeping their anonymity here would prove a lot more difficult. Lots of open spaces, good lighting… So they had to minimize the risks.

"Good," I will set up my systems in my room. You boys come over when you have finished unpacking your stuff. I don't mean your stuff. You know… as in the things you wear... pants and shirts and socks and underwear … I meant the other stuff" She stressed the last word, letting them know what she was talking about. In particular Roy's Arsenal-suit, which had been disassembled and stowed in their three, separate suit-cases, in case they got asked to open them on their way through customs. Roy's weapons, sadly, had to be left at home. There had been no possible way to get them on the plane or through customs. He would have to make do with what they found here. Diggle on the other hand had been able to acquire a 9"Clock from and old army-buddy living in Calgary.

"Okay, Boss! Will do." It was meant as tease by Roy, but deep down he had long since accepted the fact that she was the secret mastermind behind their operation. Not Roy, not Diggle, not even Oliver, the Arrow, himself. No, it was Felicity who drew the strings, guiding them through their tasks by her moral compass and with her technical genius. Taking his and Dig's suit-case he took them their shared room.

Dig stayed behind, looking down at the tiny woman in front of him, who had exchanged the high heels she was so fond of wearing for a more sensible pair of moonboots, and thus had lost several inches. And the dress had been replaced by a jeans and her thick winter-parker, it just hadn't been suitable attire for this climate

He gave her a reassuring smile. "We are one step closer to finding him."

"Yes, we are John. And we will bring him home."