A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this chapter, and please leave a review with ideas of any future chapters that you would like to see!

She wasn't always afraid of the dark. In fact, she usually liked it because it gave her a chance to think without any distractions. But this time was different.

"Felicity?" The voice was Oliver's and it should have been reassuring, to know that he was here to find her, to help her. But it wasn't.

Groaning quietly, she curled her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, feeling the cold from the ground seep into her body. She was going to die here, alone in the dark. And there was nothing anyone could do - not even Oliver.

…

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked her, concerned as always for her safety as they prepared to go after their target - an escaped mass murderer.

"Since when have I refused the chance to help?" she looked at him confidently, sure in her ability to survive. And no matter what Oliver asked of her, she knew that she would do it or die trying. He meant enough to her that she was willing to take risks for him.

He put a hand on her shoulder and had stared at her intensely. "Felicity, this is going to be dangerous. I don't like the idea of having you as bait."

Brushing off his concern, though it touched her, she replied flippantly, "Well, it worked with the Dollmaker and with Slade, so…" She smiled, sure that he would let her play her part. He always did, even though they argued about it each time.

"You nearly died," he pointed out, his voice rough.

"But I didn't." And with that reply, she ended the discussion.

…

Another flash of pain brought Felicity back to the present. And the all-consuming darkness that surrounded her, smothering her will to live.

"Felicity!" Oliver roared, closer this time.

Despite her pain-fuddled thoughts, she knew that she should call out, that she should help him find her so that he wasn't stumbling around the darkened warehouse completely blind. But the best she could manage was another gasp of pain before she slipped back out of consciousness.

…

"Drop the gun," Oliver ordered, appearing just as their target leveled his gun at her heart. He was up in the rafters of the abandoned warehouse, his arrow at full-drawn and trained on the man standing in front of her.

"A trap?" The man screamed, nearly hysterically. She could tell that he was losing it, and that terrified her more than the gun. An insane man was unpredictable and he could hurt Oliver. Or herself, she supposed, but that was unlikely. She didn't present any danger to him.

"I said, put it down. Unless you want an arrow through your heart." Oliver's voice was low and dangerous and made Felicity shiver.

"I don't think so!" Before she realized what was happening, the man grabbed her arm and yanked her around in front of him, holding the gun to her head. "Not unless you want to skewer blondie here."

Unable to say a word, she just stared up at Oliver, sure that he would be able to see the fear in her eyes.

…

"Felicity. Thank goodness."

The pain receded enough for her to hear Oliver's voice coming from right next to her and she groaned weakly.

"Are you okay?" Anxiously, his hands reached out to her in the darkness, clutching at her hand.

With what was left of her strength, she guided their entwined hands to her stomach so he could feel the sticky flow of blood gushing from the bullet-hole.

She heard him gasp, then say, "Relax, Felicity. I promise you that you will be fine." He was trying to be reassuring, but she knew him well enough to know when he was lying.

Dying is fine, she reflected as she felt his strong arms encircle her and lift her limp form, but it sure is a shame that I never told Oliver how I feel.

…

The gun tilted away from her head, towards the ceiling. She heard a shot ring out, then a cracking sound, and then the entire warehouse was plunged into darkness. Absolute darkness.

"Sorry, blondie," she heard the murderer whisper next to her ear, and then she felt a white-hot pain start in her stomach and start spreading.

He dropped her, and she hit the floor, hard. Immediately, she started crawling as best as she could despite the darkness, trying to make sure that she wouldn't be in Oliver's way. Getting the bad guy was the priority; her wound could wait until later. But eventually the pain took her and she collapsed on the cement, the darkness pulling her under.

…

She opened her eyes.

There was light.

"Welcome back," Oliver's warm voice greeted her.

She quickly realized that they were back in the lab. A hand to her stomach showed her that she had been bandaged up already and that the bullet had been removed already. "Did you get him?" she whispered.

"Yeah," Oliver replied, squeezing her hand gently. "Diggle caught him running from the warehouse while I searched for you."

She let out a relieved breath. "Good."

"Felicity," he started, his voice unsteady, "You nearly…"

"Don't say it," she groaned. "Not now."

"Fine," he agreed. "Later."

"Later," she agreed as she drifted off into sleep.

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