A/N: And this did not turn out quite the way I wanted it to, but there's a lot going on here and more to come still. I've also made some major alterations to a few episodes down the line (the changes sort of wrote themselves), and the fall out of this will be interesting, indeed. I've realized, of course, that the entire season will be mainly focused on different stories for Oliver and Felicity - with the others getting different story lines, but perhaps not the time I had intended from the start. Maybe I can make amends for them. We'll see!

Synopsis for Episode 8: Slade's return to Starling City comes with a high prize: Felicity Smoak is targeted in Slade's revenge against Oliver. With her life hanging in the balance, can Oliver and the team save her on time? In the middle of the chaos, Thea makes her official return.

Review if you wish it (note that I encourage constructive criticism - but do not enjoy bashing. If you hate, just leave)! I hope you enjoy this, either way.

Also: Thank you to reviewer MamaJ who pointed out a mistake that snuck in there in the last chapter! I know better, of course, but I have no excuse for the little error. It's fixed now. Still, cheers!

3x08: No Smoke Without Fire

Oliver stepped back into the parking garage beneath QC on firm strides as a whirlwind raged inside his head and threatened to trash him to pieces, scattering him over all the corners of the world.

It was the same sentence that swirled through his mind, an idea that he'd buried deep within himself long ago, but still couldn't quite shake.

Kill Slade Wilson.

The suggestion represented a life he had struggled hard with to leave in the past, a path he could only walk down if he wanted to lose himself to the Arrow-part of his persona. Though it was part of the past, it held some allure and offered an easy way out to end all of this.

Oliver knew he was caught between a rock and a hard place. With Slade, there was no right decision to be made. What had once been a strong friendship had been corrupted and tarnished by Shado's death. He knew there was no turning back, but that didn't mean he could let go of the past entirely either. Any decision he made meant endangering himself and those he loved, but this time around he would take strength from the people in his proximity. He had nothing to gain from pushing everyone away, he'd learned that lesson the hard way. The decision stood firm, and he would not budge from this. He would do the right thing, for once.

Oliver felt tension linger in his srtiff shoulders and neck like a chain dragging him down to the depths of hell. There was no point in trying to relax either, not as long as Slade remained a threat. Once the man was captured, he'd consider lowering his guard.

Oliver was almost by his motorcycle when his phone rang. He gazed down at Felicity's name and frowned. He answered and pressed the phone to his ear, "Felicity?"

"Kiddo."

Oliver froze and felt his heart stop inside of his chest. The voice was all but too familiar and that single word was enough to make him falter. At length, he found his voice and snarled, "... Slade!"

The Aussie took his time replying, teasing him with raspy confidence, "Did I not say I would escape?"

"Where's Felicity?!"

"We were waiting for you to call, kid. I was telling your girl she was hoping in vain. That you were otherwise engaged and wouldn't come to her rescue."

"If you've touched-"

"You're too late!" the harsh words hit Oliver like a punch in the guts and his head tried to wrap itself around the notion. Mockingly, Slade continued, "Last time I told you we're not done until I say so, and this is far from over... Now, do you have any last words to say to your Felicity?"

Oliver heard muffled commotion on the phone and a rustle of fabric before a woman's voice greeted his ear. "O-Oliver…?" Felicity's voice was panicked and trembling.

"Felicity!" Oliver breathed as ice-cold fear clasped around his heart with deadly intent. "Are you hurt?"

"No..."

As panic wrapped itself around his brain, Oliver felt he needed to reassure her. He had to calm her fears somehow, and right now he could but do it with words: "Listen, to me: It's going to be alright! I'm coming for you!"

"No, Oliver!" the woman pleaded in a tone that held more resignation than he'd been prepared for. Filled with turmoil, like a tornado running wild, she tried to weather the storm, "Stay away. Stay safe. Oliver, I-"

With no warning, their conversation was abruptly cut short. Oliver tried not to climb the walls as he heard her agonized moan. Slade soon returned to the phone, "You won't be seeing her again, Oliver. Not alive, at least. You can collect her body in her home any minute now... Remember: I keep my promises. Goodbye for now, brother."

With those words, the phone call disconnected. Oliver glared down at the dead item for a second. His furious thoughts swirled like a brewing tsunami in his head and he failed to keep them in a straight line. The only thing that shone clear and bright inside his head was the realization that this was all his fault. Slade had Felicity, Slade intended to kill Felicity... and Oliver needed to save her.

He threw himself towards the duffle bag that lay discarded beside the motorcycle and pulled out his Arrow costume and the familiar bow.

Oliver ran more than one red light that dark night as he willed his motorcycle to go faster towards its goal. He needed to get to Felicity. He needed to save her. If anything happened to her… He couldn't even let himself finish the thought. It was in itself unthinkable and simply not a viable option. Felicity would be fine. He would be on time and he would save her.

A strange light caught his attention from further ahead in the night and tugged him viciously out of his thoughts. The sight made his heart plummet and his motorcycle came to a screeching halt atop a hill. From several blocks in the distance, he saw gigantic flames reach towards the starry skies. Oliver's throat went dry at the realization: Felicity's apartment complex was aflame.

"… Felicity," he breathed and the word itself was painful to utter, wrapped almost in barbed wire as it passed his chapped lips.

He inhaled and once more sped off towards her home as fast as he was able, hoping against all hope that he wasn't too late, after all.

Dressed in his Arrow gear, Oliver leaped from one rooftop to the other as he came as close as was possible to her apartment building. The fire department was already present on the streets below and had managed to get the raging fires under control. From his vantage point, Oliver could see what appeared to be a burned hole where Felicity's apartment had once been. The charcoal color had spread like a virus across what remained of the walls. Several more apartments seemed touched and partially destroyed by the flames, but the building still stood in the dead of night. The only place entirely demolished was her home…

Oliver swallowed past the bile in his throat as he watched the scene. He distantly heard police sirens blaring in a messy cacophony with the fire trucks down below. A large crowd was gathered in a semi-circle outside the line of police cars and fire trucks. Even from a distance he heard people crying and screaming, having had their homes and lives demolished by the devouring fire.

Oliver felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and languidly withdrew it. He pressed it to his ear and waited for the voice to speak.

Detective Lance's voice was gruff and void of emotion, unusually strained for the man in question, "Are you here?"

Oliver glanced over the ledge towards the streets, where he saw the Detective walk to and fro beside his car. Sara stood leaned against the hood next to him, her eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of suspicious behavior. "I just arrived at the scene. I didn't think you would be present, though."

"Yeah, well..." Quentin breathed in a hoarse voice. "I heard the call on the police radio. I couldn't sit this one out. My daughter's with me, though. So I'm covered."

Oliver closed his eyes tight at the emotions that danced in the police man's voice. "What can you tell me?"

Quentin drew a deep breath before he threw himself into a winded explanation, "The coroner wheeled a body out of her apartment a few minutes ago. It was badly burned, beyond recognition," As he heard the news, Oliver's gaze searched for the ambulances and found them off to the side. There was saw no sign of Felicity, however. With half an ear, he listened to the Detective's voice, "But it… It looks like it's her. You should prepare yourself for the worst."

Oliver felt his heart drop again and struggled to keep his voice even. More than ever before, he was grateful for the voice filter that masked his real voice, "Do me a favor, Detective. Send me a copy of the coroner's report and anything else the police might find."

Quentin cleared his throat and raw emotion spilled into their conversation, "Listen, I-I know this is Slade Wilson's work. That the sick son-of-a-bitch is somehow free, and I'm telling you this: If he's messing with our Ms Smoak, you can damn well bet I'll do anything I can to help you stop him. You'll have those reports as soon as possible."

Oliver gritted his teeth. "Thank you."

A few hours later, Roy blinked down at the computer screen and shook his head incredulously. "…Dead?" His voice didn't sound as his own, broken and disbelieving, and the question was met with silence. He turned in his seat and gazed up at the rest of his company, gathered in the high-tech lair below ground. Roy hopefully searched their eyes for an explanation to undo everything they'd just learned.

Oliver, Diggle, Dick, Sara, Nyssa and Laurel all stood in silent mourning, with different expressions of turmoil and grief on their faces. The tension in the secret lair was practically palpable and everyone kept their gazes low. No one dared voice the truth in the coroner's report; a sample of blood had confirmed that the dead body found was none other than Felicity Megan Smoak. The preliminary report suggested she'd been killed before the flames had consumed her, penetrated by a sharp blade through the heart.

"Felicity can't be…" Roy's voice trailed off.

Dick closed his eyes tight where he stood on the other side of the blonde's workstation, leaning heavily against a crutch to remain upright. "She is." The dark-haired man opened his eyes and met Oliver's gaze across a divide that had never seemed wider. Whatever he saw in the opposing depths made him take a limping step forward and point in the direction of the monitors. "You read it yourself… The evidence is clear. The body was identified as Felicity. Slade Wilson killed her. It's over…"

Though the words cut into his flesh, scraping away both blood and bone, Oliver was reluctant to agree. He shook his head slowly and his eyes closed on their own accord. He'd read the report over and over, but still the written words didn't make sense. The possibility that Slade had won… It was unthinkable. He sighed heavily as the feelings crashed over him, and he struggled to keep his emotions at bay. This was all his fault… His fault…

From his left, Sara sniffled. She wiped at a stray tear as she glanced up at the man. "What do you want us to do?"

Oliver didn't respond. The others exchanged glances as they watched the man who stood stiffer than a statue beside them. He looked tightly strung, so tight that he could snap at any second.

Diggle cleared his throat as he watched his friend's impassive profile. "… Oliver?"

The man flinched in surprise, as if finally pulled back to life. His eyes met the older man's briefly. His azure eyes swirled with unspoken words desperate to escape and he shook his head distantly. "...I need to be alone."

When he took a step backwards, Laurel approached him. Careful not to overstep any boundaries, she spoke in a soft voice, "Ollie, I-"

As she tried to help, Oliver visibly recoiled towards the staircase. His voice was harsh and unkind, like rough sandpaper, as he repeated, "I said: Alone."

No one tried to stop him a second time, seeing his pain only all too clear in his eyes, swimming with unshed tears. Instead, they all watched as Oliver fled the lair and let the silence reign.

"Wake up, Felicity."

Felicity's head felt filled with lead as she searched for a source of light to bring clarity to confusion. She felt like her brain was attempting to step through a thick layer of syrup without actually moving forward. What was going on? She couldn't quite remember, or understand why she felt this out of sort.

The voice that beckoned her forward sent shivers down her spine. Her hazy mind vaguely recognized the tune, but she couldn't quite identify it. The name remained at the tip of her tongue, waiting to take form. Whoever it was, she had a bad feeling about what awaited her.

"Open your eyes, Blondie."

The realization slapped her across the face then and left a burning sensation in her body. Slade Wilson. It all came back to her now. He'd somehow escaped from his cell on The Island and returned to Starling City where he intended to finish his vengeance against Oliver. She had been chosen as his target to accomplish this dark feat.

Felicity's mind was at once alert and panic spread through her body like a wildfire on a plain.

The woman opened her eyes and blinked to clear the haze that surrounded her. Remembering her training with John and Dick, she first tried to figure out her whereabouts. She was somewhere inside, with grey walls seemingly closing in on her. She'd never been closer to feeling claustrophobic and the feeling was overwhelming. The floor beneath her cheek was cold and barren. The air smelled of iron and… coconut? No, not coconut, but decisively foreign.

Her heart fell inside her chest as she recognized the telltale scent. Slade had taken her back to Lian Yu, the hellish island which had been Oliver's 'prison' for 5 long, nightmarish years.

She slowly sat up and her eyes travelled along the walls around her. She was in a prison cell. The very prison cell A.R.G.U.S had designed to keep Slade Wilson locked away from the outside world. Shaped like an angular horseshoe, the cell left her quite a lot of room to move. Along one of the sides stood a scrawny bed and on the other was a basic toilet to suit her needs.

Felicity, herself, sat on the floor in the middle of the 'horse shoe', and her eyes traveled beyond the steel bars to the lone figure that stood guard. Slade cut quite the intimidating figure a few feet beyond the locked bars, his dark eyes dancing with glee as he curiously beheld her.

Felicity swallowed past her fears as she felt a sudden stab of pain shoot through her head. She reached up and tenderly touched the back of her head. As she brought her hand down, she noticed her fingers were stained with a few drops of red. She vividly remembered he had knocked her unconscious back in her flat, and her brain still functioned enough to register the possible concussion.

Her blue shirt was stained with another couple of blood drops that seemed to glare up at her. She noticed she was bare feet and her painted toenails seemed to glare up at her accusatorially. She should have worn sneakers to work, instead of heels she'd kicked off at first chance inside her home. Then again, she hadn't known a psychopath would kidnap her before dinner when she'd gotten dressed today…

Felicity pondered the idea. If Slade had brought her all the way to Lian Yu, it was most likely a new day already. He could have kept her sedated for longer, of course. She had no way of knowing how many days had passed, nor what hour of the day it was.

Last time she'd seen Slade, he'd been furious at Oliver for turning the game on him. When his goons had kidnapped her and brought her before their leader, Slade had shown neither compassion nor delight, simply a mad determination to defeat his enemy.

The memory confused Felicity now, as she saw the dark-haired man smirk down at her. His eyes danced with a knowledge she did not share, nor wished to know.

Though she had helped Oliver bring Slade down, she hadn't expected to be made into a specific target because of her actions. Perhaps she should have been more cautious and expected the worst from the man who thrived in hurting people who'd wronged him.

Adamant not to show her panic, Felicity glared up at the man and finally found her voice, "… What do you want with me?"

"I'd say we both know the answer to that question, Ms Smoak."

"… You won't kill him," the blonde breathed in a low, dark voice. "He'll come for him."

At her meek attempt, Slade merely snorted and threw her one final glance before he turned to the exit. Felicity's heart started pounding in her chest as he opened the door and stepped outside. The heavy, steel door closed with a loud thud, and the echo was her only company. Then there was silence around her. Felicity exhaled shakily.

A second later, the lamps were turned off and she jumped closer to the wall as she tried to see anything in the pitch blackness. She could barely see the shadows of her bed, but slowly crawled towards it. She cursed to herself that her glasses seemed to have disappeared in the transport, but knew they would have made no difference in this black hole she found herself in.

At length, her seeking hands found the bed and she pulled herself onto the worn mattress. She scooted herself up and pressed her back against the cold wall as she listened to the silence. Felicity closed her eyes tight and forced herself to focus her mind on hope and happy memories, anything to keep her thoughts from wandering down a rabbit's hole she would not escape from.

After the news of Felicity's death, the days wore on in Starling City with a seemingly gloomier air. Her death had been announced in the papers and somehow Slade Wilson's identity had been revealed. It was no secret that the man was on the loose and seemingly on a killing spree once more. It had caused much turmoil within the city, as memories of the Mirakuru-attack was still fresh on everyone's mind. Fear had a tight grip around the city and everyone looked to their hero to explain and save them. But Arrow was nowhere to be seen, and no one had seen Oliver Queen since that day either.

Due to the seriousness of the situation, Sara and Nyssa had decided to linger in the city for a couple of days. The two of them stayed at Laurel's place while they all tried to regain their balance in the world. After the ups and downs in their relationship, Sara was grateful to be close with her sister once more. Close enough to notice when something was not right.

Sara eyed her sister from the open doorway to the living room. Laurel seemed a mile away as she reclined in her sofa, clad in worn sweatpants and watching the news on the television with little interest.

The news anchor spoke, "After the news of Slade Wilson's return, the inhabitants of Starling City have had much cause to ask questions. The police have been silent on the topic, however, and it's been almost a week without news. We cannot help but wonder... what will happen to our city now? Will we have to endure another attack or will one life be enough this time for Mr Wilson? How come Arrow didn't save the life of the innocent woman who was killed last week? And why is Mr Wilson back, at all, one might wonder, after Arrow supposedly defeated him? ... Where is the hooded vigilante in our hour of need? Has he abandoned Starling City? We all want to know..."

"...That was Nyssa on the phone," Sara called out as she stepped into the room and Laurel turned off the television. "Still no sign of Slade. I think he's left the city. Nyssa had to return to Nanda Parbat, I'll linger in Starling for a little while longer, though. Just to be on the safe side."

Laurel scooted over on the sofa to give her sister room to sit. Her dark pools immediately swirled with hope as she asked, "...And what about Ollie? Any sight of him?"

Sara's face fell as she sat down. She released a heavy breath as she shook her head, "…No."

"I'm worried about him," Laurel admitted with a heavy sigh.

"Me too."

"It's been three days… " the elder woman opened and closed her mouth as she searched for words to describe the predicament and worry that clouded her mind. "I don't know where he is."

Sara reached out for her sister's hand and squeezed it tight in her own. "He'll come back when he's worked through the worst of this. Just give him time."

"What if he doesn't? What if…" Words failed Laurel. She lowered her eyes as she exhaled and let her concerns take voice, "…I know he feels guilty about this, Sara. As if this is all his fault. I just want to tell him… that it isn't. That everything will be okay."

Sara offered her sister a sad smile, but remained silent She could see the storm take shape in her sister's eyes, and waited for it to hit.

At length, Laurel breathed, "Ollie and I... I wanted to try again at a relationship, but he didn't. And... he was right. I've had time to process it. We don't belong together. I just... wanted to leave our dark baggage in the past and look to the future, but I can't. Can't pretend I'm not still hurting because of what he did to me back then, what he forced me to go through, even though I can't blame him anymore. I still care about him, Sara, as a friend. It's hard seeing him pull away from the world like this. It's just… You know Oliver, Sara. You were with him on the Island, and I can't pretend to understand what that was like. How that changed him… how it changed you. He's so afraid to let anyone in. He doesn't think he's worthy of being loved... which of course he is. You both are."

Sara inclined her head and let the words sink in. "... It's not easy. To look at things that way. Sometimes you need someone to guide you, to help you find your way back to life. He needs time to mourn and to figure out the rest."

"I know Ollie, Sara. I know that," the elder sister exhaled swiftly. "I'm just... worried about him. What he might do now when Felicity's dead."

"He has to battle his own demons, Laurel. That's not your fight. You can't push him, and you can't push yourself either..."

Laurel frowned as she turned her head in her sister's direction. Confusion swirled like butterflies in her eyes, as she questioned, "What does that mean?"

Sara shrugged. She wanted to tell her sister so much, that she understood pain and trial, and she tried to voice her concerns in a gentle tone, "That you have your own demons. When I left, I told you Ollie needed you. But now that I see you... I wonder at what you need. Something's different about you..."

"I'm trying to do things right..." Laurel explained in a meek voice. "For dad, for you and Ollie... For myself. I just don't quite know anymore, what's right for me. I've felt lost ever since losing Tommy, to be honest, and now that I've stabilized myself... I find that I'm still lost. I don't know where my place is in this world, but I can't stay in this stalemate. I'll... just lose myself more."

"What do you want to do, Laurel?"

"I... want to be part of Team Arrow, I want to make a difference. Help people," Laurel breathed. "I could mantle the Canary jacket and do the right thing. But Oliver won't let me rise to the occasion."

"Then maybe you need to find a way to prove him wrong. Maybe you need to find a way on your own," Sara suggested, and her cobalt eyes swirled with knowledge and concern for her kin. "You should listen to your heart… and not ask more of it than it's capable of giving, Laurel... Maybe... you ought to get away from here for awhile?"

Laurel blinked. Her sister's words nestled their way into her heart where they settled in. "What are you suggesting?"

"If Oliver's reluctant to train you, how about I do it...?" Sara shrugged. "You don't have to join the League, we can find other ways to help each other. I just think... I hate seeing my sister like this, like she has no direction in life. I think you need a timeout from this city and take the time you need to find yourself again. Find who you want to be in this changing world."

"I... I think I'd like that. I'll certainly consider it, " Laurel pulled herself away from her hesitation and offered her sister a thankful smile. Hoping to change topic, she nudged the woman with her toes and asked, "So... What about you and Nyssa?"

Sara's smile widened as she ducked her head and nodded. No words were spoken, but none were needed to be said. The raw happiness was undeniable on the blonde woman's features and it warmed Laurel's heart to see her sister enjoy at least that part of life which she had long been robbed from. She could but hope this would lead Sara to further see the light and embrace the hero Laurel saw inside of her.

"I know I shouldn't say this in a time like this... I know Felicity meant a lot to you, as well... But I'm glad you're back. Despite the circumstances," Laurel grinned. "It means the world to me and Dad. If you only knew how happy he is to see you alive and well despite everything..."

Sara grimaced. "It's not so bad, you know. In the League. I'd rather be free of it, but I chose the League this time. And I'm confident with my decision. I can handle the darkness. And knowing you and Dad support me, no matter what... keeps me going."

"We'll always support you," Laurel promised and scooted closer to Sara on the couch. She embraced her little sister tightly and ran a hand across her hair. "We'll always love you."

Sara smiled at the sweet gesture. "... I know."

Thea blinked up at her father with newfound hope. He'd just delivered her the news she'd long wanted to hear.

Thea hadn't realized how much she'd wanted to hear the starting shot until the words settled in her mind. Her heart fluttered and she tried to conceal her emotions from him. After everything she'd been through, she wasn't sure she was ready for this part yet. Her heart was about to be tested in a way it had never been tested before, and she was excited to see if the walls she'd build up around her heart were strong enough to weather this storm.

Their plan was intricate, and required her to play a part. Excitement mingled with apprehension in her veins, and pumped through her blood with the adrenaline. Thea knew she didn't know everything that went on behind the scenes, but she was willing to suppress what she didn't need to know this once. It served a grander purpose, and she knew Malcolm would tell her everything if only she asked. He would not keep secrets from her, which was the whole foundation of their relationship.

"You mean...?" she started hesitantly as she removed her boxing gloves and slowly stepped towards the suit-clad man. She grabbed a towel and wiped her face clean from sweat before she faced him with a more open smile. "I can make my official return?"

"The stage is set for you, my dear," Malcolm reassured and read the guarded joy in his daughter's eyes. "It's time you made your entrance. Like a queen..."

"No," Thea disagreed as she turned away from the man. "Not a Queen. A Merlyn."

Felicity wasn't sure how much time had passed since Slade had taken her. Without a window to see the outside world, she'd lost her estimation of time. It felt like weeks or months, but it could just as well be only a few days.

He'd given her some food and water, but only enough to keep her going. Her head was worsening, as well. Felicity was certain it was a concussion by now – probably a mild one judging by her weak, but lingering, symptoms. Up until now, Slade had mainly let her be, with no company but her own swirling thoughts and frightened heart. She had a feeling things were about to take a turn for the worse, however.

Felicity sat curled up in her bed as she watched Slade on the other side of the bars, sharpening his trademark blade. The man wore black combat gear, with a holster on his hip and a knife tucked into his left boot. She noted how his wide muscles tensed with each movement, and the knowledge of his capabilities frightened her. Not only did he have the training, but the strength also, to inflict more damage to her person than she could ever survive.

She forced the thoughts out of her head. She couldn't afford to think like that. She had to keep her wits about her, and bide her time well. Hopefully, Oliver had realized the truth by now and was already on his way to rescue her. Surely she wouldn't have to wait much longer.

Unaware of her pondering, Slade mused, "He was tortured here, you know. On The Island."

The man's soulless eyes rose to meet hers and Felicity felt captive to his soul as well. Too afraid to speak, she merely tried to convey her dismay and not let him feel victorious. She was determined to not let him see her as weak.

"I imagine you must have wondered what it was like for him. The anguish, the slow killing of his soul… Ripping flesh from bone, slicing at his skin like slicing through a ripe melon… Of course, most of that wasn't due to me. We were still allies when he was first tortured," Slade reminisced with a dark grin. After a second, the man continued with ruthless calm, "But I brandished him, too, so that he would remember his sins. For killing Shado. She had a tattoo on her back… I gave Oliver the same one."

The memory of the familiar back flashed through Felicity's head. "The dragon? That was you?"

Slade nodded as he leisurely rose from his seat and walked towards the locked door. "I never want him to forget how he betrayed her… And with it, he never will," the key turned in the lock and the door swung upon with no intimidating squeak. The silence didn't calm Felicity, however, as she stumbled off the bed and tried to back away from his approaching shape. He raised the blade and pointed it squarely at her chest. "Now, I can't give you a tattoo, Ms Smoak. But I assure you, he'll never forget how he betrayed you as well."

The wall stopped her escape and Felicity tried to conceal her trembling legs. Her body betrayed her and she saw his smirk widen. Still, she held her head high and spoke, "He hasn't betrayed me."

"Hasn't he? Well, where is he then? Your knight in green leather?" Slade taunted as he stopped a few feet ahead of her. Like a wild animal, he had her cornered right where he wanted her. "He's not coming for you, Blondie… I plan on torturing you, to give you a little taste of what he went through… And still, he will not come. He will have abandoned you in your hour of need."

"You're wrong."

"Sweeter than sugar, are we, Blondie? I remember your faith in him was just as strong last time I took you from him."

"He came for me then... He always does."

"And what about when he doesn't…? … Hmm? Now… let's get started, shall we?" Slade asked as he ran the cold, metal blade against the bare skin of her abdomen. He sliced into the flesh and Felicity stifled a shriek.

Oliver gazed down at the pale rocks, deep in thought. He felt lost at sea, and the salty water of self-deprecation kept crashing over him, one tidal wave after another. Memories of Felicity played through his mind and for each new memory, he felt as if some invisible hand crushed his heart slowly but ever so surely to dust. He couldn't escape from his pit of despair, and found himself lost further and further down. He closed his eyes against the onslaught of painful memories that endlessly played like an echo inside his head.

"You've dropped some fairly ridiculous lies on me, and yet I still feel like I can trust you. Why is that?"

"It's my life, my choice."

"Don't you have any happy stories?"

"Just the thought of losing someone that important to me again…"

"... and I never would have believed some crazy guy in a hood when he told me I could be more than just some IT girl."

"You honor the dead by fighting, and you are not done fighting!"

"I do know two things: You are not alone… And I believe in you."

"Slade took Laurel because he wants to kill the woman I love."

"I know. So?"

"So he took the wrong woman."

"...Oh."

"I love you."

Oliver inhaled sharply as he turned off his emotions and let the memories fade into the recesses of his mind. He raised his head slowly and let his gaze wander from the tombstones. "How did you know I was here?"

He glanced back over his shoulder as Diggle slowly stepped closer, walking deliberate and careful as if attempting not to step on any mines that would trigger a reaction from Oliver. When the latter didn't object to his presence, Diggle took the unspoken invitation and stepped over to his friend's side.

"Lucky guess." He met the younger man's eyes and saw the swirling sadness within. John inclined his head in apology. "I know you, Oliver. What goes on in your head. Or I usually do. Figured you'd come here eventually, to clear your mind."

Oliver sighed and glanced down at his parents' tombstones beneath the lone olive tree once more. "… I failed her, Diggle. As I failed my parents… Thea... Everyone."

"You know that's not true, Oliver."

"I'm not sure what to believe anymore, Dig… She's gone…. And… I don't know," he whispered in anguish as his throat clogged up. "I can't help but wonder… What if I'd made the other decision last time? What if I'd killed Slade?"

His friend released a weary breath that spoke of his own pain. After a few seconds in silence, John said, "Then you would have failed her…"

Oliver grimaced. "When I last saw him, Slade said he would escape from his cell. I didn't think... I should have seen this coming. I just didn't think something like this could happen so soon after his capture. I thought we were safe from him... I should have seen it coming, Diggle. I knew Felicity was in danger because of her involvement in bringing down Slade…but I should have seen just how big of a target I made her by including her in my plan. I can't seem to do things right with her, and now… there's no second chance. When I asked her to join the team, I told you we could protect her… And now look at what I've done."

"It was her decision to join," Diggle disagreed. "She knew what she was getting herself into and you have protected her. …Should we talk about-"

"No," the younger man interrupted with an anguished breath. "…I just need her not to be dead, Dig."

"Me, too..." John closed his eyes tight as he struggled against his emotions. He needed to be there for his friend, right now. They needed each other. "Felicity wouldn't have wanted you to wallow in self-pity. It won't help anyone, and… it won't bring her back. I... won't lie to you, Oliver. I don't know how we pick up the broken pieces after this. But her death won't have been in vain. I guarantee that."

When he got no comment or reply, Diggle glanced at the man beside him. Oliver shuffled from one foot to the other as the despair faded in his eyes, pushed aside by sad determination. "... Oliver?"

The man turned to face his company. "What if she isn't? What if she isn't dead?" Diggle merely frowned, as Oliver explained himself, "I've been thinking about it... There's no trace of Slade. Neither Nyssa, A.R.G.U.S or I have been able to find him. I know him, Dig, Slade doesn't run and hide. I feel like I'm missing something here."

"Oliver…" John stuttered. Tiny warning flags raised in his head as he tried to voice his own reaction. The last thing they needed was to get their hopes up in vain. If this turned out to be erroneous, they'd only crash and burn all the harder. "Man…What if-"

"I know," Oliver interrupted in a low breath, barely audible due to his pain. "I shouldn't get my hopes up… But I need this, Dig. It's all I've got."

"… Alright," Diggle nodded sharply. "Any ideas, then? How to prove it, one way or another?"

"Only one idea…" Oliver said as he withdrew his phone and dialed a familiar number. Without patience, he waited for the tide to turn.

Barry answered after four signals. "... Oliver?"

"Hey. I need to ask you a favor, Barry."

Felicity wheezed in pain as Slade stitched up the injuries he'd previously inflicted. She couldn't quite make sense of it. Why he would fix her, after breaking her in the first place? She could but imagine he had grander plans for her to suffer, and wanted her to last his torture longer. Physically it was straining, but mentally it was worse than she'd imagined.

He'd cut into her abdomen with meticulous precision. Due to the limited amount of blood loss and all her organs still in function, he'd clearly aimed for "safe" flesh to cut into. Perhaps he was testing her then, to see how much she'd last.

Covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Felicity tried to control her breathing as she felt the needle pierce her skin once more. She glanced down at the three horizontal scars on her abdomen, one deeper than the other. Failing at controlling her bodily reactions to torture, Felicity instead turned to her other weapons. Despite the concussion, she knew her mind still ran clear enough to make sense.

"I think..." she began shakily. "I think you're doing this revenge-thing because you're afraid you'll have nothing left if you stopped. When Oliver first told me about you, I did my homework on you."

"You did?" Slade sounded vaguely amused as he finished stitching her up and she hurriedly pulled her torn blouse close to cover her skin. Slade held her gaze as he asked, "And what did you learn?"

"That you had a wife and son before the Island."

Slade inclined his head. "Not to mention an illegitimate daughter."

"Alright… A wife, a son, a daughter and a mistress then," Felicity corrected herself tiredly. "Sounds like an awful lot of people who want to see you again. Who loved you once, who might still love you. If you're willing to go home and take a chance."

Slade chortled as he rose from the ground and stepped away from her.

Felicity frowned up at the laughing man, worried he'd lost what remained of his mind. "What? What did I say that's so amusing?"

The dark-haired man turned his curious gaze down at her once more. "How am I not irredeemable in your eyes?"

"I think everyone can change for the better. Darkness can always give way to light."

"Then perhaps you are not as bright as I thought, Ms Smoak," Slade said pointedly and his amusement faded. "I am irredeemable. Your Oliver made sure of that. He deserves to pay for all of this. He took everything from me… it's only fair if I return that favor."

"You tried, you lost. He'll always win, Slade," Felicity said with more force than she'd intended. "Because he has what you are afraid to embrace. People who support and believe in him, who love him. Belief will do a lot to a man's heart."

the Aussie inclined his head in agreement as he crouched before her and pressed a thumb into her ribs. She cried in pain as he pressed down on one of the wounds, and he smiled, "You're forgetting one focal element, Felicity. He believes you're dead."

The blonde simply blinked at the incredibility of his words. "W-what? Why? What did you do?"

"I left a body in your place. I burned your apartment and the woman in it. DNA is easily tampered with if you can access the records… For all accounts, Oliver thinks he's about to bury your corpse, burned to a cinder and irrefutably lost to him… Forever."

Felicity's breath hitched as she gazed up at her captor.

Slade seemed to revel in her despair as he hunched down before her and said, "I think you said it quite to the point, Blondie. 'Belief will do a lot to a man's heart'… What mind state do you think your beloved Oliver is in right now… with his heart broken?"

Felicity swallowed past the bile that threatened to rise in her throat and tried to shut out the man's wicked glee. She shook her head and tried to find her voice. "H-he'll see the through your ploy… He'll come."

"Perhaps," Slade acquiesced with a sly grin as he rose from the ground. "But by then it will be too late. It will be to find you dead and disposed in the place he despises more than any on this earth. In his own Purgatory."

Almost a whole week passed, but nothing seemed to improve after Felicity's death. Dick spent most of his days alone in the lair, recuperating after his injury. The heart break could not be mended as easily, however.

Tonight, he sat in her seat beside the work station. He'd seen her in it so many times in the past. She never looked more at home than behind her monitors. It was always a sight that made Dick feel proud of her. His heart always soared to see her accomplish exactly what she wanted. He'd never see that again, and the thought of going through this a second time was overwhelming.

He heard a noise behind him, and swirled around in the chair. He saw Oliver slowly descend the steps, clad in jeans and a white tee.

Dick shrugged his eyebrows as the man approached. "You've returned to the land of the living, have you?"

Oliver ignored the remark as he nodded down at the man's bandaged limb. "How's the leg?"

Dick shrugged as he leaned back in the seat. "… I've had worse."

Oliver nodded slowly and offered a meek smile that didn't reach his azure eyes. "... How are you holding up?"

"Honestly? I don't know. She's dead and I… I…" There were no words to describe it. Dick didn't even try. "... And you?"

As if testing the waters, Oliver carefully exhaled. He eyed the man and decided to open up. This man loved Felicity, after all, and deserved to know there was a chance she was still alive. "...I don't think she's dead, Dick."

The dark-haired man was taken aback and stared up at the other man in shock. The news didn't seem welcome. Evidently, Dick didn't see the possibility. "Don't do this, Oliver... Don't give yourself hope. Don't give me hope. I've been down this road before, it doesn't end better... It never does. Accept her death and the pain of her loss. Don't lose yourself to hope."

Oliver frowned at the morose thoughts. "You don't even want to hear me out?"

Dick shook his head and anger mixed with grief in his chocolate colored eyes. "I don't share your optimism about this. I want to... but I can't."

"T-this isn't about..." Felicity slurred. "... You're not doing this because I helped Oliver stop you, are you?"

Slade had left her alone for quite a while, but it still impossible to tell how long it had been between his visits. He'd returned in the end, however, to torture her a second time. He'd cut into her left shoulder blade this time, and teased the existing wounds on her stomach until she'd cried in pain. Her body trembled with fatigue and the pain rocked her body like a vulcano with each stroke of his blade. Her treatment by his hand had made her realize why exactly Amanda Waller had thought the name 'Deathstroke' was such an appropriate alter ego name for the Aussie legend.

"Not entirely, no. My reasons go beyond that, mainly," Slade agreed as he stitched up the wounds on her back. He eyed his stitch work and the scar that would form there, and smiled to himself. He'd leave that particular scar as a surprise to Oliver, certain it could drag the younger man down to hell where he belonged. "...It should have been my first clue, actually."

"What should...?" Felicity asked feebly as the man pulled her up to her feet.

"I sent Count Vertigo to him, to test his resolve of not killing…" the man explained as he steadied her and stepped around her, like a lion around its prey. "Well, I don't really need to tell you what happened. When The Count caught you, Oliver killed him without batting an eye. That should have been my first clue of your importance, but I was too busy focusing on Oliver's reaction. I simply believed it proved how weak he was, to kill a man over a secretary. I believed it would be easy to wrap him around my little finger if his resolve wasn't stronger than that… but I should have seen the real reason for his actions. I should have seen you... What was it he called you? The real danger."

"You're overestimating me, Slade..." the blonde breathed as she struggled to keep her eyes open and stumbled as the world spun around her.

"On the contrary, Blondie," the man disagreed. He stopped behind her back and spoke close to her ear, his breath tickling the loose strands of hair that rested against her neck. "I've underestimated you in the past, and won't be making the same mistake twice."

"You already have," Felicity breathed in a dark voice.

At once, she took the offered opportunity and dropped the facade of broken, feeble woman. With swift, sharp movements, she elbowed him right in the face. She knew months of training with Dick had given her better strength and stamina, not to mention a better grasp of her physical capabilities. Her captor stumbled backward only a step, but it was enough for Felicity to get loose. She stumbled forward and threw the door close behind her once she was safe. She locked it shut not a second before Slade reached out to her through the bars. His hands grasped nothing but air as she jumped out of his reach.

She moaned in pain as the sharp, sudden movements had pulled open several stitches on her stomach and she glanced down at the fresh blood on her shirt.

"Let me out of here!" the man growled menacingly. "You think you won't die alone out there?!"

Felicity tried to suppress the pain as she stumbled to keep upright. Perhaps she wasn't as physically strong as she'd thought, or maybe she'd simply lost too much blood. Slade's torture and her concussion made her wobble in her place, but she remained on her feet. She glared at the man, safely stored behind bars once more. "Don't know... You're right where you belong, though..."

Without another word, Felicity turned and stumbled out the door towards her freedom. If Oliver believed her to be dead, she needed to find a way to get home and convince him and the others she was alive. She needed to find her way back to them, and she had an idea how to do it.

"Just a sec!" Roy hollered as he heard someone knock forcefully on his front door.

With Slade Wilson on the loose, Roy wasn't taking any chances. As he slipped the knife inside the waistband of his pants, he stepped over to the door and opened it a crack. The sight that met him left him dumbfounded and the door fell open.

"... Thea?"

The brunette looked just the same as all those months ago. Her curly, dark hair reached just beyond her shoulders and she wore black jeans matched with a fitted top. She offered him a warm smile and something hesitant danced in her dark orbs. It was as if she'd never left, yet his heart told another tale.

"Can I come in?" she asked at last, when he made no motion to close his jaw.

"Eh..." Roy began and opened the door. "Sure. Okay."

He watched the young Queen step into his small flat and seemingly reacquainted herself with the location. She knew it almost as well as he did, of course, but it had been a while. The memories of their last meeting burned hot in his mind, and Roy waited for an explanation. The young, slender woman merely walked around on timid legs, without saying a word.

When the silence became too much to bear, Roy cleared his throat. "... You said you were never coming back."

Thea inclined her head and something sad passed over her features. "I know."

Roy felt the world continue to spin out of control since Slade's return, and suddenly nothing made sense. When she didn't say anything more, Roy prodded for more. "You're back," he said, not all too kindly.

She smiled despite his evident pain. Thea raised her eyes and held his gaze as she had so many times in the past. "I know that, too."

Slowly, Roy stepped towards his ex-girlfriend. "… Where were you, Thea?"

After being on Lian Yu - or the Minefield Island, as she preferred to call it - twice before, Felicity was thankful that she remembered her way back to the plane wreckage Oliver had used as a safe haven once upon a time.

The fresh air and the cool breeze between the trees did wonders to her mind. She felt freer that she'd ever felt before in her life, and even the pain felt less overwhelming.

Her blouse and pants were cut from the torture, and blood was mixed with dirt and sweat. Felicity barely saw it herself. All she saw was what lay ahead: Her journey home to safety.

She finally made it to the plane wreckage and her breathing was heavy from exertion as she stumbled into the hideout. Her mind drifted to Oliver and Diggle, and the first time she'd been in this place. How long ago it all seemed now.

Felicity hurried over to the radio transmitter at the back of the plane and brushed off unnecessary items that lay in her path. As she got to work on it, her fingers fumbled with the controls. Without her glasses, and with her pounding head, it was difficult to make out what she needed to see. Her fingers were almost too eager, too, as she was so close to contacting her friends. She longed to hear Oliver's voice reassuring her he'd come for her, Diggle's amused pride of her accomplishments and Dick's support.

She grabbed the aircraft microphone and held it close to her mouth.

"That radio doesn't work."

Felicity jumped in the air at the unexpected voice. Her head flew up towards the entrance furthest away from her, and the man who slowly stepped inside.

Slade walked towards her with his long blade drawn. He looked even more menacing in the day light. Slade inclined his head towards the radio transmitter once more. "Not even your pretty, little fingers can make that radio function today."

Felicity's fingers tapped nervously against the machine, reluctant to let go of her life line. "... How did you...?"

"You didn't think I'd let you get away that easily, did you?" Slade questioned. "I told you: I'm not underestimating you. You thought you escaped… but I let you. The anticipation of a chase is always the best part of a hunt. I'll make sure to retell every detail of our encounters together to your dear Oliver when I see him next time."

Felicity weighed her options, but knew they were limited. There was a growing shadow in the man's eyes, and she knew she was treading closer and closer towards the end of the line.

The woman threw herself towards the exit. She knew she couldn't outrun him, but she certainly had a better chance with that than trying to battle him with neither weapon or proper strength.

As she ran through the high grass, she simply waited for his strong, calloused hands to grab her and pull her back.

There was a sudden bang. It wasn't anything like a mighty thunder, but the noise echoed across the field and the trees anyway.

Felicity felt the bullet go through her leg and she fell like a tree towards the ground. The air was knocked out of her as she managed to roll onto her back, but remained down. As if in a vacuum, she heard her slow, raspings breaths escape past her lips loud and clear, and for some reason it calmed her. She felt a throbbing sensation in her thigh, but not much pain, surprisingly enough. Adrenaline was a funny thing, indeed.

Above her, in the clouded skies far beyond her reach, Felicity saw a pack of wild birds take flight after hearing the shot echo on the field. As she watched them dance across the heavens, her thoughts wandered back to Starling City and the people she loved.

Would she die like this? Abandoned in Purgatory?

Slade's hovering shadow fell over her, but she kept her eyes skyward as she remembered Oliver's last words to her;

"Listen, to me: It's going to be alright! I'm coming for you!"

To be continued!