To Be a Bird of Prey

Origins

II. The Coveted

Chapter Four

There was not much for a girl to do when one of her wrists was out of commission.

Bandaged wrist equaled useless hand, which translated into inability to deliver keystrokes. She could still type with one hand, of course, but speed and a full range of hand motions were a necessity for the kind of typing she did. So, not fun times for Felicity.

At least she had John's paintings to admire at all hours. Of day and night. Because she was currently at his place, so he could keep an eye on her better; she hadn't argued, if only for the fact that should the Triad come after her again, they wouldn't think to look here first.

Diggle seemed confident they wouldn't try again, though. The Canary may not be known far and wide, but the Huntress was a household name around here – and as much as he'd grumbled about owing any thanks to Helena Bertinelli, one arrow of hers could be message enough if one knew how to read it. Which the Triad did.

Besides, even if they did still plot bad and nefarious things, they would soon have to realize that the Arrow wasn't around. Not that that necessarily meant they wouldn't want to finish the job just for kicks. Or whatever it was that motivated members of the mafia.

Anyway.

The point was, she and Digg were roommies now.

And right now now, she was sitting on his couch flipping through channels while he did his bodyguard gig for a new client. Life went on, as it happened, and he, much like her, had to make a living.

It also happened that she wasn't left unattended for long.

"I don't actually need to be babysat every minute of every day, you know," she commented.

She could hear the faint sound of Sara's laughter as she came around the couch, and took her seat next to Felicity. "You heard me come in," she said. "I must be losing my touch."

Felicity shrugged. "Not really. I just may have convinced Digg to put up motion sensors and cameras on all points of entry." She raised her tablet, from where it lay in lap. "See?" She pointed to the screen. "Saw you coming from a mile away."

Sara smiled at that one. "Fair enough," she conceded.

Felicity returned her smile before growing serious again. "I meant what I said, by the way," she told her. "I don't know a round-the-clock babysitter."

"I'm not here to...babysit," Sara countered, pausing on the last word like it had left a bad taste in her mouth. "I wanted to see how you were doing."

"And ask some questions," Felicity supplied.

Sara shook her head. "That can wait." Throwing an arm over the back of the couch, she asked, "So, how are you doing?"

Felicity looked away. "Well, I rigged Digg's place with motion sensors and hidden cameras," she said quietly, "so...good?"

"You went through a lot," Sara told her. "No one expects you be completely fine – and more importantly, you shouldn't expect it from yourself."

"I know," Felicity whispered, taking a deep breath. "I'm just – it's not even that I'm scared or jumpy, which I am, but mostly I'm just – I'm angry," she said. "Like, how insulting is it that I was this...this bargaining chip, that's only valuable because it matters to some man? And it happened twice in ten days! I mean, hey, I know the world is made of misogynists, but come on!"

She pulled air in through her teeth, closing her eyes as she counted backwards from three to calm herself; her hands balled into fists on top of her tablet. It was quiet for a while, with only her deep, steadying breaths to fill the silence, until Sara spoke up.

"I'm angry, too," she said, her voice low and grave, and a little on the deadly side.

Felicity looked up to meet her eyes; they were cold and blue, and they showed she carried her anger like she would a keepsake around her neck.

"No woman should ever suffer at the hands of men," Sara went on, and it almost sounded like a poem verse to Felicity's ears. Or maybe a battle cry. "Or because of them – for their benefit, their pain..." Her eyes strayed from Felicity's, to focus on the room's far end. "I know exactly how you feel," she said. "I lived the same thing Slade put you through – it's because I did that he took you. And my sister." She sighed. "The difference is, someone died so I wouldn't." Bringing her gaze back to meet Felicity's, she added, "But you already know that."

Felicity swallowed thickly. "Yeah," she said. "Shado."

The name was foreign to her, as was the woman behind it. It was just five letters, no face or true story to connect them with. She knew Shado had been on the island. She knew Shado had died there. And she knew she was meant to die for her, here, in Starling. There once was a woman named Shado, apparently. And that was all Felicity knew. She was a myth, a ghost; a memory.

"I don't know anything about her," Felicity whispered.

Sara looked down, then back up again, and she asked, "Would you like me to tell you?"

Felicity nodded as quickly as she could.

A fleeting smile twitched Sara's lips before she started with her story. "I didn't really know her that well, or for very long," she began. "I came to Lian Yu with Anthony Ivo. I'm sure Slade has mentioned him." Felicity nodded again, so Sara proceeded. "It's not an allegiance I'm proud of," she said, "but he was the one who rescued me after the Gambit went down, and...well, I was at his side back then. He was looking for this...miracle serum, which – well, it's not really the important part here. And we came across Ollie...and his friends." Her mouth quirked at the corner. "You know, the first time I saw Ollie's green hood, it was on Shado."

Felicity blinked. "The hood is hers?" she let out.

"It was her father's," Sara explained. "His name was Yao Fei. When he died, Shado wore the hood. And when she died – "

"Oliver did," Felicity said quietly. She'd never known that.

Sara nodded. "Yeah. And just like her father, Shado was an archer." After a quiet breath, she added, "She was the one who taught Ollie."

"Wait, she – she was the one who taught Oliver archery?" Felicity let out. "But that's...that's – " That's everything. She could feel tears starting to prickle her eyes as she said, "He's the Arrow, it's – it's who he is. And he wears her hood, and uses the skill she taught and – and that's him honoring her, right? But..." She shook her head. "He never talked about her."

Sara looked away. "All things considered, I don't think he wanted to."

"Because of how she died," Felicity guessed.

After some moments of silence, Sara resumed her story. "Slade was hurt," she said. "He was dying, and we – we thought giving him the serum was his only chance. Turns out, it worked, but...not right away. And we'd crossed Anthony to get Slade the serum, so...when he found us, he...bound our hands behind our backs and forced Shado and me to our knees." She gulped. "And then he told Oliver to choose."

"He...didn't really choose, right?"

"No." Sara shook her head. "I mean, I don't know. He says he did, but...I couldn't tell you how much of it was really a choice on his part and how much of it is just his guilt telling him it was." She sighed. "What I know is, Ivo pointed the gun at my head and Oliver threw himself in front of me. And then, Shado was dead."

Felicity had no words to offer to that.

"They threw her body in the water," Sara went on. "The current took it away, we couldn't find her – Oliver and Slade wanted to bury her next to her father, but...we couldn't find the body. And Slade, he...he vowed to get revenge on whoever was responsible for her death and..." She shrugged. "He blamed Oliver, once he found out – and me. So, what you and Laurel went through, it was because of...what Oliver did for me." There was a hitch in her voice as she added, "I'm sorry, Felicity."

The shake of Felicity's head came immediately. "It's not your fault."

"It's getting really hard to tell what is and isn't my fault," Sara whispered. "But I am sorry," she added. "That you got up in...the fallout of a past you had nothing to do with."

Felicity managed to muster a small smile and a nod, just to let Sara know she accepted her apology. She didn't need or want it, but she understood why Sara did.

After a beat, Sara licked her lips and, quietly, queried, "Can I ask you something now?"

"Of course." She had a feeling what the question would be about, but she let Sara ask anyway.

With a deep breath, she did. "How much does Laurel know?"

"She heard everything I did," Felicity said. "She knows that one doctor Anthony Ivo shot a woman named Shado because Oliver 'chose' to save you. Of course," she added, more quietly, "that means she knows you didn't die when the Gambit went down. She knows you were on the island – that you 'died' there. So, she knows Oliver lied about that."

Sara closed her eyes and hung her head, bringing her fingers to press against her brow. "It's what I asked him to do, you know," she muttered. "I told him to say I'd died on the Gambit, if he came home and I didn't." Her hand made its way down her face, until it curled into a loose fist against her mouth. "And now, Laurel has another reason to hate me."

"I don't think she hates you," Felicity said quietly.

"Well, she has good reasons to," Sara whispered. "Not the least of which is that she nearly died as a stand-in for me." She shook her head, paused to take a breath, then added, "I spoke to my father. He said there was broken glass everywhere, in Ollie's office."

Felicity nodded. "Yeah, that was...weird. I don't actually remember it well, it just – it gets blurry after a while." She frowned. "Why, what are you thinking?"

"I'm not sure," Sara admitted. "But it's...strange."

"Like, 'this is exactly what happens every time you turn on one of your sonic-things' strange?" Felicity guessed.

After cracking a small smile, Sara nodded. "Basically, yeah," she said. "But maybe I'm just...projecting? There weren't any devices like that in the room, were there?"

"No." Felicity shook her head. "But Laurel did scream at one point."

"You think her scream broke the glass?"

"Hey, if the pitch was high enough, why not?"

"Every glass surface in the entire office?" Sara deadpanned.

Felicity pursed her lips. "Okay, maybe not."

A smile twitched the corner of Sara's mouth before she dragged her eyes away from Felicity and to some spot in the distance; in the quiet afterward, Felicity could nearly hear the sound of the wheels turning in her mind. But she'd keep whatever further theories or thoughts she had to herself, until the circumstances were such that she wanted, or needed, to share them.

Kind of like someone else she knew.

Clearing her throat, Felicity prompted, "Sara?"

She had her full attention in a second.

And she didn't really know what to say now. There had been a lump in her throat, just lodged there ever since Oliver had packed his bags, and it never stopped reminding her of what she had lost.

She felt the tears prickle at her eyes, even as she just opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water; Sara shifted closer to her, running a hand down the length of her arm. Her voice was soft and encouraging as she prompted, "Just say it, Felicity."

"He – he left," she managed to get out, and once she started, the words just kept pouring out. "And I don't get it, which is actually fine, he makes his choices, we all do, but – but if he's gone, then there's no more Team Arrow either." She shook her head. "Digg and I can't do it by ourselves, so...without Oliver, we can't keep doing the work we used to, and...and it's not that I'll miss him – I mean, I will, he's my friend, but...I loved the work we did." She pulled in a shaky breath. "And I don't want to give it up."

She hadn't let herself say the words out loud before. The truth was, it hurt; everything about this hurt. What hurt the most, though, was desperately wanting something she couldn't have anymore. Being the hero behind the curtain.

Next thing she knew, Sara's arm was winding around her shoulders and Felicity let herself be pulled into her side, resting her head in the crook of Sara's neck.

"I suck at fighting," Felicity whispered. "Like, really, really suck at it. I'm – I'm not fieldwork material, I can't do what – " she sniffled – "Oliver, and Digg, and you can, but...what I can do, I'm really good at, and – and with the team, I got to use that. I was...I was one of the heroes on the block, you know?"

She felt the slight brush of Sara's chin against her head in small nod; her hand was gently laid against Felicity's hair next, her fingers stroking lightly over the strands. Felicity closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the touch.

"But Digg and I can't make it work," she went on. "And Roy is – " she sighed – "Roy, and...bottom line is, we need Oliver. His skill-set. So, now that he's gone, I...I can't do what I love anymore, and – and I don't know how to deal with that." She gave a small, helpless shrug. "I don't want to give it up," she repeated quietly.

Sara was silent for a while after that, just running her fingers over Felicity's hair, combing through it every now and then. Eventually, she said, "Well, maybe you don't have to."

It took a moment for the words to register, but when they did, Felicity frowned. "What do you mean?"

She felt Sara's deep breath in the rise and fall of her chest. "What I mean is," Sara spoke, "Oliver's not the only one with that skill-set."

Felicity couldn't help her little twinge of hope. "You're staying?"

"Not for long, I don't think. But a while," Sara said. "And I'm not the only one."

Felicity blinked, and then it sunk in. She straightened, pulling away from her cozy position on Sara's shoulder to meet the other woman's eyes. "You can't be suggesting what I think you're suggesting," she let out.

Slowly, Sara's hand fell away from where it had remained at the back of Felicity's head, and she sighed. "I know you have a lot of unpleasant history with Helena," she said, "but I stand by what I told you, and Diggle, at Verdant. She's not as bad as you think she is. She helped save you. And she's staying in Starling...for me."

"There's a difference between owing one debt of gratitude to her and becoming her fan," Felicity countered. More quietly, she added, "Frank Bertinelli's dead, you know. I'd kept tabs, so...his body washed up in Edge City, with an arrow through his heart." She shook her head. "She killed her father, Sara."

Sara held her gaze, even as her posture grew stiffer and her eyes more guarded. "I know," she said at length. "I helped her do it."

Felicity froze in her spot. "You – what?"

"We met in Coast City," Sara told her. "It was...bumpy, but she helped save me, too. So, I offered to help her in turn." She shrugged. "What she wanted was to get to her father. I helped her with that."

Something had to be getting lost in translation here, Felicity thought, because... "She killed her father."

Sara pressed her lips together, then looked away. "I don't get it either," she said, "what it's like to feel what she did. I love my father – I love him so much. But Helena hated hers. And just because I don't understand it doesn't mean it didn't make sense to her – for her."

Maybe she just wasn't getting her point across right. "It's patricide!" Felicity let out. "She actually killed her own father."

"It was what she wanted," Sara maintained. She licked her lips, then added, her voice growing softer, "I thought you of all people would be inclined to try and accept it."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I just mean that," Sara nearly whispered, "you don't know what it's like to feel like I do – or Ollie, or even Digg. What it feels like to be a killer. To...barely have a few scarps of your soul left. But you don't think less of us for it." She shrugged. "I guess I just thought that, if you can see me – us, as more than what we've done, you could do the same for Helena, too."

Felicity opened her mouth to respond, but the words got stuck in her throat; she had no idea what to say.

After a moment, Sara gave her a wan smile. "It was just a thought." She shook her head, as if to dismiss it.

Oddly enough, Felicity felt like she had just been kicked down from some sort of pedestal. "I'd work with you, Sara," she said. "But not with her."

"Like I said," Sara reiterated, "it was just a thought. But," she added, "this city does need help, so...if you change your mind, you have two people you can call. At least for a while."

It was...tempting.

Even after Sara left, with a warm goodbye and a squeeze of her hand, Felicity couldn't stop thinking about the Canary's words. It was probably ridiculous to even be considering it; working with Helena Bertinelli was so beyond the realm of possibility that Felicity could barely wrap her mind around the idea. And it was just as ridiculous to consider that the Huntress would want to work with her.

Still, to have an opportunity to keep doing what she loved, and help the city that she loved...it tempted her.

"So, I stopped a carjacking tonight," Helena announced while the clocktower's narrow staircase rattled under her feet. "And I broke into a supermarket to get us snacks." She dangled two bags in front of her, then let them drop to the floor. "How was your night?"

Sara smiled. "I...went to check up on Felicity," she said.

She couldn't see Helena's face as the latter disposed of her mask and moved to take off her gloves, but she was fairly certain she was rolling her eyes.

"I asked her if she wanted to join us," Sara added after a moment's hesitation.

Helena stilled, and when she turned around, Sara was greeted to her most unimpressed look. "What?"

"She wants to keep doing what she used to, with her team." Sara shrugged. "So, I suggested she could have a new one, with us."

"What the hell were you thinking?" Helena deadpanned.

Sara sighed, then averted her eyes. "It was just a thought," she muttered.

"Yeah, a hopeless dreamer's thought," Helena commented. "You're certainly not that. Besides," she added, "don't you think you ought to consult me first, before making proposals in my name?"

"It was a spur-of-the-moment kind of thing," Sara defended. "And she said no anyway."

"You sound so disappointed."

In truth, she was. She hadn't come back with the intent of having her own team, or working with anyone other than Helena – or even helping the city, for that matter. But as she was listening to Felicity speak, the idea struck her; and now she wanted it.

The creak of Helena's footsteps grew closer, until she was right by her side. "You are, aren't you?" she asked.

Sara opened her mouth to deny it, but her intended words of protest only turned into a sigh. "I guess I was just...fond of the idea," she allowed. "And I – " she shrugged – "I thought she'd see things differently."

"By 'things', you mean me, right?" Helena guessed. "I'm pretty sure she would have jumped at the opportunity to be your crime-fighting girlfriend." She clucked her tongue. "Felicity Smoak is never going to agree to work with someone like me."

"You're not so bad," Sara said softly.

"And you're the only one who thinks that."

Sara turned her head to the side just enough to get a look at Helena's face; there was a certain look Sara had grown used to seeing on the other woman's face, that betrayed her vulnerability, and the little heart she was still willing to give.

Eventually, Sara nodded.

After a moment, Helena asked, "How about we focus on what we're actually here for now? We need to see if your past is really coming back to haunt you, and if it is, how long before it's here."

"We need to figure out why Merlyn fled," Sara agreed. "Was it Ra's that spooked him, or just the promise that he'd come for him?"

"We've been brainstorming for days," Helena pointed out. "All it amounts to is a guessing game."

"Then let's get some real answers," Sara proposed.

"And how do we go about that?"

"We find out what the last person who saw Merlyn knows."

Helena raised an eyebrow. "You want to squeeze little Thea Queen for answers? Because I don't see her opening up to either of us willingly."

"That may be so," Sara allowed. "But I have another way in."

She smiled at the intrigued look on Helena's face. "It's time we let my friend Sin know I'm back in town."