This chapter basically deals with what goes down in episode 1x14, The Odyssey. It's one of my favorites and, though here I'm only dealing with what happens in the present not the island, I hope I made it justice.

Since I'm starting a new semester at college tomorrow I probably won't be updating as often. That being said I usually comment about the progress of this story or whatever I'm writing at my tumblr, sometimes sharing a little snippet of it, so follow me there if you like (link is on my page).

Thanks to everyone who left reviews! Know I read and cherish them all :) Hope you like it!

SECRET

This is not how it was supposed to go.

It had been merely two days since he had told her about his past. She had walked away the moment she had a chance and he really couldn't blame her. She needed time, he understood, so he fought the urge to run to her, to ask her where they went next and instead focused on the mystery that was the undertaking.

Felicity knew about his past and he wanted her to know about his present, about his other self, the one draped in green at nights. But not like this; and definitely not this soon.

But Diggle had been right, as usual. His mother was a blind spot and he never could see clearly when it came to her. If it were any other target he would've spotted the gun she pulled from the drawer sooner, would have read through her diversion, would have probably already shot an arrow through her. But it wasn't.

He hadn't been fast enough, still taken aback by how she begged for her life in favor of him and Thea. The familiar sting of a bullet shot through his chest as he ran for cover. It didn't hit the heart or he'd be unconscious already, but it hadn't been far. His vision blurred as he stumbled through the parking lot, passing by his bike –he was in no condition to drive– and searching his only real option. Crawling into the small space of the backseat he waited for her, pressing on his wound, trying in vain to stop the bleeding.

He fought the haze that clouded his mind as he heard the approaching footsteps. Felicity jumped from her seat at his hoarse voice calling her name. She was startled at his reveal but didn't scream or freak out, like everyone else would. Instead she studied him, mouth agape, surely putting the pieces together. His secrets, the island, bullet holes on laptops and black arrows. He begged her to take him to the foundry, barely registering her approval before a well-known darkness took over him.

Felicity tried and failed to pull Oliver out of her car. She ran a tired hand over her face, drying off sweat after her third attempt, only to find it covered in blood. He was bleeding out and fast. Desperate at seeing him unconscious, she ran to the club's back door where a key-pad greeted her. This she could handle. Deftly hacking it she rushed down the stairs to what appeared to be the basement of his club, halting to a stop when a man who she recognized to be Oliver's bodyguard pointed a gun at her.

"Can you help me, he's… really heavy" she breathed panting.

With his help they brought Oliver inside and onto the gurney-like table at the center of the room. Her mind was flooding with thoughts and questions, trying to take this in, filling in the gaps Oliver had left in the dozen conversations they had had since he'd been back. It made sense but she wasn't expecting this. Guess he had changed more than she imagined.

The bodyguard, Diggle she remembered he was called, ran through the basement collecting medical supplies after he took off Oliver's hood and examined his wound. Medicine wasn't her forte but it looked bad, and Diggle's rushed pacing and distressed expression did little to soothe her.

She carefully followed his directions, trying her best not to get sick. Though Diggle seemed to know what he was doing, his last statement still made her shiver. 'Oliver's been through worse'.

Letting her eyes wander down his chest she could see the proof of that. Countless scars marred his skin, some deeper, other more recent. There were a few tattoos as well, something that troubled her since Oliver hadn't seem like the type. But then he didn't seem like the vigilante, jumping off rooftops and arrowing criminals type either. This was just another proof she barely knew this new Oliver; even though much had been revealed in their last encounter.

It took a couple of hours –and quite a few swear words– but Diggle had managed to stop the bleeding and extract the bullet that had been lodged way too close to his carotid. Felicity was amazed she had kept her cool during that time, her hands only shaking slightly at the sight of a barely alive Oliver, green paint still smudged around his closed eyes.

As Diggle finished the stitches and thanked her she nodded numbly. Though he still looked worried, Diggle eased them into a light-hearted conversation, even pulling a smile or two from her. They recounted the many times she had inadvertently helped in their arrow missions, something that disturbed her but made her proud at the same time. Granted, they were making a lot of good work, could even be thought as superheroes of some kind, but where did she fit in this?

She always thought that Oliver's little jobs for her were a feeble excuse to get to see her, be close so he could make a move, or make it right, as he had declared the other night. Now she knew it was more complicated than that, that she'd been helping a wanted man. Still she couldn't say she would take it back, it wouldn't be true. Being associated with crime and deaths didn't sit right with her; but knowing she had prevented them as well gave her comfort. Vertigo had taken so many lives and now it was gone, because of them.

Diggle patted her on the shoulder, surely having seen the crease of concern on her forehead.

"It's ok, kid. It took me some time to get into the idea too, even longer to understand it; but he means well."

With that he walked away to wash off the blood that remained on him and she sat in the quietness of the foundry pondering what had happened that night.

He flat-lined once after that, taking her breath away and not in a good way. Even though she didn't know where she stood with Oliver right now Felicity knew she didn't want him dead. He'd survived way too much to go like this.

Diggle remained on edge for the rest of the night, pacing around the room, even throwing a few punches at a training dummy near a wrestling mat. He offered her to go home, get cleaned up; silently giving her an out from this. It sounded tempting and it would certainly make her life easier, but she knew this was her place to be.

So instead she occupied herself with Oliver's poorly set network, updating his software, even adding a few screens she had found upstairs –ones he could surely replace later, when he woke up–. Even in her mind she used when instead of if, because the simple idea of this being it for him made her stomach turn.

Her heart stopped when the shrilling beep of his heart monitor broke the silence again, both her and Diggle rushing to his side. Thankfully it had been a false alarm and he was well, or as well as he could be.

She let her fingers feel the stitches and wounded flesh around them, her bright colored fingertips a stark contrast of this darkness he was living with. Letting her eyes wander around the lair she spotted his bow next to a set of arrows. She went for it and held it in her hands, testing the weight and noticing how massive and out of place it looked on her; with Oliver's height and build it surely was a perfect fit. A smile tugged at the corner of her lips as she remembered the time he had brought her the black arrow and she had said how ridiculous she found archery. Oliver hadn't seemed mad; actually she could remember him chuckling at her comment.

The smile soon faded and she put the bow down, recalling the many deaths attributed to it. Diggle noticed the change in her and told her his side of the story, the one that made being a part of this crusade bearable, right. It seemed nothing escaped him and he did have some valid points; there were casualties, Walter being a potential one.

Still as she studied Oliver laying there a fire burned through her at the thought that he had killed someone, multiple someones if she believed the press. She wondered when and why it started, definitely on the island, since the boy he had met before could barely see a paper cut… or was he even a better liar she gave him credit for? Felicity stored that question for later, along with the many others that had flooded her mind since the reveal of his secret identity.

First he needed to be safe, conscious, a steady heart beating against his new scar. She allowed herself to run a hand through his hair, knowing she wouldn't dare when he awoke, and carefully cleaned up the remaining paint on his face. Under the dim light of the basement he looked pale, fragile, nothing like the man she had grown accustomed to these past few months.

In that moment she knew that even through her pain over their past failed relationship and this new deadly side of him she was still not over him. Oliver Queen was trouble, even more than before, but she couldn't stay away, didn't want to albeit she probably should.

It took a few more hours before he came to, cracking up a joke much to her and Diggle's surprise. Felicity smiled brightly at him, allowing herself to breathe deeply for the first time since she had seen him bleeding in her car.

He winced as he sat up and she took a hesitant step forward, worried he might tear up his stitches. She stole a glance at Diggle and at his firm nod or approval she relaxed. Oliver looked at Dig's handy work on his shoulder, cringing at how gnarly it looked and the tricky spot the bullet had lodged. His mother sure was a good shot.

"It's not bad" he said with a heavy sigh. "So how am I gonna explain this one?" Another lie he would have to utter to his loved ones.

"Hickey gone wrong?" his trusty bodyguard quipped with a smile in place. Oliver simply gave him a frowning look, noticing Felicity's flushed cheeks at the comment. More than a few heated memories came to mind but he quickly buried them in a corner of his mind at the risk of embarrassing them any further.

Her mind seemed to be in the same place as she darted to the computers, now plural, and tapped away while telling them what she was doing. Oliver treaded to her, studying the changes she had made to his system. How long had he been asleep?

She spun around in the large chair, a proud smile on her face at what she had accomplished. He returned the smile while looking for any trace of fear in her, but she didn't seem to be aiming for the exit and, by the looks of it, she had stayed with them all night.

So he dared to ask if she would stay for good, hesitant, not demanding even though he wanted her to take the offer so badly, but knew it was only fair to give her an out. This is not how he had planned on bringing her into the team; he thought he could ease her into it, disclosing his identity beforehand, giving her time to process it all instead of throwing his life in her hands. Yet there she was, though not taking his offer all together, agreeing to work with them for now, for Walter.

It wasn't lost to him the edge in her voice as she said she knew about his notebook, identical to the one she had given him not that long ago. He looked at Diggle who shrugged, recounting how he had told him to tell her the truth all together or let her be. Now she knew half of it he could be more honest with her, no more made up excuses to pay her a visit or get her help.

"That's my offer", Felicity stated, blue eyes boring through his.

"Ok" he responded, saving everything else he wanted to tell her for later. Unlike the ok they had shared that night by the window this one held hope of a partnership, or a future, though not definite it was still something, better than the uncertainty the last one implied.

"Thank you" he said, gratitude clear in his voice.

She nodded slightly and held his gaze for a few seconds before looking down at her fidgeting hands, a habit she turned to when nervous. Oliver let his eyes travel down her neck to her outfit and reached for her before he could stop himself.

He frowned as his fingers lightly traced the blood still on her skin, barely atop the edge of her sweeter, which was also covered in crimson red.

"It's yours" she breathed, trying to soothe him.

"I know. I–I'm sorry I brought you into this. I didn't mean to–" he trailed off knowing it was half a lie. He wanted to bring her in; he didn't mean to hurt her.

"What? You didn't think I would've eventually found out? Hate to break it to you, Oliver, but your excuses aren't that great."

He huffed at that, remembering an awful one he had crafted to cover up a vertigo sample he needed analyzed. Getting serious he looked at her face again. "I know this is a lot".

"It is" she agreed, "but it'll sink in soon enough." With one final smile she walked away, his hand dropping to his side.

Before she was out the door she turned around and called at him. "I'm glad you are safe" a knowing smile and then she was gone.

He watched her go, her words resonating in his head. Those were the same ones she had uttered months before when he came back, still this time they sounded much better; heartfelt instead of a simple pleasantry.

"Are we gonna talk about this?" Diggle's deep voice called from behind him, wordlessly talking about Felicity and whatever was going on between them.

"Not now, John. I need to be with my family".

Still he didn't drop it, needing to make him see the danger they were putting Felicity in and then tackling the even bigger elephant in the room: Moira. Even though he had almost died due to her, Oliver was still defending his mother fiercely, clawing at any excuse and threat he could think of to make him stand down. When he had made his point clear he got changed and excused himself.

Diggle saw Oliver go as well, shaking his head at his best friend's stubbornness. This could be a problem.