A/N: I've almost completed the overhaul of the story and the changes include rewriting the Oliver/Laurel storyline, giving more attention to smaller story lines and evolving Dick's backstory earlier on in the season. I expect to update the chapters all together (for a seamless transition) in the coming days. In the meanwhile, I present a new chapter that will lead us towards the end of our journey.
I have to admit; I had a lot of fun writing parts of this Episode. I hope it comes across.
Synopsis: Anatoly comes to Starling City in an attempt to control the Bratva branch and asks for Oliver's help. In the process, Dick reveals his dark past and his animosity towards the Russian mafia, which divides Team Arrow and forces several tough decisions to be made.
3x13: The Bratva Connection
"You've done good this week, Grayson," Quentin assured as he stepped over to the younger man's desk.
The police station was busy this day, with hard-working officers and freshly caught culprits alike. It seemed Starling City's criminal activity had increased after the news had spread that Slade Wilson was alive and free. It seemed the world had gotten cockier after realizing their favorite hero had screwed up, and the police were working tirelessly to keep the city in order.
"Thank you, sir. Just doing my job," Dick nodded sharply as he rose from his seat.
"Four corrupt cops and two men of that Russian mafia behind bars in one week?" Quentin questioned. "Sounds to me like you're reaching vigilante levels."
Dick ducked his head at the imploring comment, "As I said, sir: My job. There's still much more to do before we're done."
Quentin shrugged his eyebrows in mute agreement as he hovered beside the desk. His voice was an octave lower, as he asked, "Where do you get all your intel, Grayson?"
"Can't reveal my sources, sir," Dick offered with a smirk.
"... Of course not," Quentin said, though something akin to realization flashed by in his coffee-coloured eyes. Dick couldn't help but be reminded of another man in uniform he'd greatly admired back in Gotham City. Quentin shook his head as if to step back from the edge, and instead suggested, "You're not looking for a promotion, are you?"
Dick shook his head and tried to fill his voice with as much conviction as possible, "If anyone deserves a promotion around here, sir, it's you."
Quentin smiled in silent thanks.
Dick glanced around at his co-workers briefly before he lowered his voice and asked, "Sir... Is it true about Officer Jones? Was he really released from suspicion?"
Quentin nodded in dismay as he explained, "There wasn't enough evidence to link him to any crime despite what Arrow and Nightwing did to help us catch Jones. He's been acquitted and will return to duty first thing on Monday morning."
"But he's corrupt..., sir," Dick breathed fervently.
"To prove that, Grayson, you need evidence of his connection to the mafia and to the corruption itself," Lance retorted knowingly. "You know the rules."
"I do. I just don't always like following them," Dick shot back and stepped around the Detective. "Excuse me, I have more work to do."
Lance glanced at the retreating man for another second before he sighed and shook his head. Young, incorruptible and with a moral compass that pointed in a decisevely narrow direction. No wonder he reminded Quentin of a younger version of himself.
"All I'm saying is that we should go after him."
"You tried that once, remember?" Felicity argued as she leaned back in her seat and faced her boyfriend. Her eyes shone with sympathy and hesitation as she pointed out, "You ended up shot in the leg."
Dick stood in the center of the lair beside her workstation, quiety fuming as he faced Felicity and Roy. "I just need him to give me one name. One name is all it takes to get the new head of the Bratva branch in Starling City."
Roy exchanged a glance with the blonde woman. The younger man stepped forward and hesitantly spoke, "Look... I'll come with you if you want, but why try a faulty method twice? If it didn't work the first time..."
Dick heard the unspoken reprimand but merely shook his head. He knew what they were saying but it wouldn't be like that this time. "I've searched for other sources but no one else will talk. No one else can give me the name I need to end this. Felicity, Roy... This is what I came here for, to stop the corruption at its source and free Starling of its plague. I can't quit now. Jones won't ambush me a second time and with the two of you... We can get the confession we need. What do you say?"
Silence reigned inside the lair for a few seconds as Roy and Felicity gazed up at Dick. His eyes shifted from one to the other as he held his breath in anticipation.
At length, Felicity sighed, "... Jones knows you're after him, he knew it then and he'll know you'll try again. If we're to do this a second time... I won't have us walking into a trap. Let me call Lance. Quentin can have a patrol team standing by just in case we need backup."
Dick slowly inclined his head as his gaze flew to the younger man. "What do you think, Roy?"
"Felicity's right," Roy shrugged. "But other than that, I have no objections."
"Thank you," Dick smiled. "Suit up then, let's do this."
Roy's heart pumped in his chest as he combatted the enemies surrounding him. A man with nanchuks tried to hit him in the chest, but Roy deflected the attack and kicked the man out of the way as he had been taught to do.
Over on his right, Nightwing was busy battling two black-clad men at once and Roy sighed. This mission hadn't exactly gone according to plan so far. They'd traced Officer Jones to a small, cheap motel in the Glades, but the Officer hadn't been alone. Prepared for a fight, Jones had been surrounded by numerous allies. Even after finding themselves thus outnumbered, Nightwing had refused to contact Felicity, who waited outside with Quentin and his team of police officers.
"How about now?" Roy growled and pondered the option of calling in Oliver instead. He wasn't sure why Dick had decided to keep the green hood out of the game, but right now it felt like a bad idea.
"No!" Nightwing tersely replied as he swung his Escrima stick and knocked out both his opponents. "We can still do this!"
Nightwing stalked ahead towards the man half-hidden in the shadows of the hideout. Jones withdrew a gun, but the vigilante ducked low. Dick swiftly turned and stretched out a leg, pulling Jones' feet from under him. Jones fell to the ground with a loud grunt, the gun falling from his hand with a metallic clutter.
Nightwing stepped down atop of the fallen man and pressed down hard. Jones coughed in agony, unable to get away.
"Give me the name!" Nightwing growled and glanced back over his shoulder to make sure Roy was in control of his fights.
Jones laughed. "You want a name so badly? Fine. You'll never get to him, anyway, he's untouchable..."
"Let me be the judge of that."
"Nudocerdo," Jones growled. "His name is Brian Nudocerdo... And now what will you do? You'll never find enough evidence to link me to any crimes. I'll never confess."
"I won't arrest you this time, Jones," Nightwing growled in a low voice as he knelt beside the man.
Fear quickly spread like wildfire in the man's eyes as he stared up at his enemy. "...You're a vigilante!"
"Some heroes have a streak of villain in them," with those words, Nightwing snapped the man's neck. Dick gazed down at the dead man and exhaled slowly as he tightly shut his eyes.
"I called in Felicity," Roy growled from behind him only seconds before they heard the door pull open to the shabby motel room.
Felicity came to a slow halt as she saw the dead man beside Nightwing's feet and she paused to catch her breath. Her eyes were dark as she held Dick's gaze, "... You killed him."
"I got what I needed," Nightwing growled in response and turned to the policeman by her side. "Detective, before Jones passed he gave me the name of the leader of the Bratva branch in Starling City. Brian Nudocerdo."
Quentin snorted in disbelief and his gaze wandered from the vigilantes to Felicity beside him. "It's impossible. That's the new Chief of police. He was promoted shortly after Slade Wilson's army was stopped."
"Not because of merit, it would seem," Nightwing remarked and frost touched his voice.
"Jones' word isn't enough!" Quentin heatedly disagreed. "You can't ask me to bring down the Chief of police without proper evidence!"
"I'll help with that," Felicity offered in a strained voice. "If Nightwing is right... The corruption has reached the very top of the police and we have to stop it. We'll work together on this. I'll call Arrow, as well."
"Thank you, Felicity," Quentin nodded sharply.
The two looked up only to find that the two masked vigilantes had disappeared out the window and into the night. Quentin sighed as he gazed about at the unconscious men lying scattered like flies in the room.
"I'll just call this in, my patrol can handle the rest. Let's keep it to ourselves for now that we suspect the Chief of police," he said as he turned back to the woman beside him. "How about a burger to celebrate a successful case?"
Felicity exhaled in amusement and inclined her head. "A burger sounds good."
Maya made loud, happy gurgling sounds as she sat in Oliver's lap and watched her father sitting across from her in the red booth at Big Belly Burner.
Diggle smiled at the image of his daughter in his best friend's arms. He'd asked Oliver to take a night off for a while now and had been grateful when the man had finally agreed to a quiet night. Oliver needed this, he needed to see a life where he didn't have to be Arrow all the time. That there was a life to be had outside the lair. And it seemed to be doing the trick. Oliver seemed quite relaxed as he held the little girl and conversed over everyday things with his friend. There was an unusual light to his eyes as he held the baby girl that couldn't be denied, but it was mixed with an ever-present darkness and guilt.
Oliver raised his eyes then and looked up at Diggle. He sighed as he inclined his head, "Thanks, Dig. I know why we did this... Why you insisted..."
"I just think you sometimes need to be reminded of the bigger picture, Oliver," Diggle shrugged. "It is possible to have both, man. A family... a life... gives you something to fight for. I'm more motivated than ever to help your cause."
Oliver's smile was tighter and grimmer then, but he slowly nodded in acceptance. He abruptly shifted focus away from the topic, "Have you heard from Felicity about Dick's mission tonight?"
"I thought we agreed we wouldn't discuss work tonight," Diggle pointed out and shrugged his eyebrows.
"It's not the work I'm asking about..." Oliver tersely breathed and held the other man's gaze.
Oliver's phone started to vibrate madly beside him and he glanced down at the Caller-ID. A frown spread across his face as he picked the phone up.
The hour was late as Oliver leaned back against his motorcycle and glanced about him at the otherwise abandoned parking lot. Clouds were gathering in the heavens above, rain hanging fresh and cold in the night air. Everything was silent and calm around him, and Oliver gave himself a second to simply enjoy the quiet.
A roaring engine interrupted his moment, and he turned to face the car that approached him. The luxurious car had tinted windows and its very own personal driver, but Oliver wasn't fooled by the exterior. He smiled as the car stopped and the door to the backseat opened to reveal a familiar face.
Anatoly Knyazev stepped out of the vehicle with both grace and an air of achieved power that kept him warm in the chill night. He looked just as he had last time Oliver had seen him in Russia. Anatoly held out his arms wide as he stepped towards the other man and his grin was wide and genuine. The bearded man shook Oliver's hand brotherly and bowed his head in greeting of an old ally.
"Anatoly," Oliver smiled.
"Zdorovo, droog. Kak dyela?" (Hello, friend. How are you?")
"Khorosho..." Oliver inclined his head. "A oo tyebya?" (Good. And you?")
"Nye ochyen..." Anatoly hesitated and his thick Russian accept was crisp in the night as he shifted to English, "I am sure you must wonder why I am here. It is a long story, but I will give the short version now. There has been some... problem recently with the Bratva branch here in Starling City. The new Captain is acting irregular and refuses to follow my strict command. I had to come personally to make sure he is either stopped... or taught proper manners." (Not so good)
Oliver grimaced as he heard the unspoken suggestion and pushed for more, "Let me guess... You thought I could help you control him."
Anatoly shrugged innocently as he glanced back at his car. "The thought had struck me. It is too complicated to handle on my own. Will you help an old comrade, Oliver?"
"Why aren't we in the lair?" Dick questioned as he gazed about in the unfamiliar, narrow corridor. He walked a step behind Felicity as she led the way towards their goal with an air of familiarity. She'd obviously been here before, and Dick thought it mildly surprising that he hadn't been here even once so far, all things considering. Then again, maybe he wasn't so surprised, after all. "Why did Oliver want to meet in his flat instead?"
Felicity glanced over her shoulder and shrugged. Her long locks flowed across her back with the motion. "He doesn't want to compromise the lair."
Dick frowned, unwilling to accept that explanation as he asked, "... Who could he know that he doesn't want to bring to the lair, Felicity?"
The blonde offered him an apologetic smile as she stopped before a grey door at the end of the hall. She knocked firmly on the door as she breathed, "I guess we're about to find out."
"Voyditye!" (Come in!)
Dick did a double-take at the unexpected word and stuttered, "W-was that... Oliver? Oliver speaks Russian?"
"Eh... Yeah," Felicity offered as she opened the door and stepped into the hall. She removed her pale cloak and hung it aside, glancing back over her shoulder to see Dick remove his own black, leather jacket and stepping after her. She walked further into Oliver's apartment as she called, "... Oliver?"
The couple stepped into the small yet spacious living room and stopped in the open doorway. Oliver stood leaned back against his dining room table as Anatoly reclined in the sofa. The Russian rose as he saw the guests and faced the blonde woman first.
"Ah..." the man breathed as he stepped towards Felicity. He clasped her hand in his and gently kissed the back of her hand. "Lovely to see you again, Ms Smoak."
"You too, Anatoly," Felicity smiled back and managed to mask her surprise as Oliver stepped towards them.
Oliver could see the tension in Dick's shoulders spread with each heartbeat. Felicity had mentioned the man's problem with the Bratva in the past, and Oliver delicately broached the matter now, "Dick... I'd like you to meet Anatoly Knyasev."
Dick simply frowned as he shook the Russian's hand. He found his voice before long and his gaze flew between the others as he said, "I know that name. You're the leader - the pakhan - of the Solntsevskaya Bratva."
"Why, yes," Anatoly agreed with a firm nod and his hesitant eyes sought out Oliver's for confirmation.
Oliver inhaled sharply and explained, "Anatoly has come to ask us for our help in a small matter."
"... Why you?"
"It's... not easy to explain," Oliver tilted his head to the side with a grimace. "I met Anatoly when I was stranded on the Island. I saved his life."
"Twice," Anatoly intercepted.
"He..." Oliver cleared his throat as he held Dick's gaze. "The short version is that our acquaintance led me to become a... Captain."
Dick slowly wet his lips and pointed a finger at Oliver as he searched for words to make sense of the entire ordeal. "... You... a Captain in Bratva?"
"Yes," Oliver admitted curtly. Beside him, Anatoly wearily eyed the seething man before them and took a step backwards.
At the admission, Dick's face faltered and he gazed at Oliver as if he was seeing him for the first time. Something had irrevocably shifted in Dick's eyes and he seemed unable to process the information. Like a hyena waiting to prey on the dead, anger edged around in the corners of Dick's eyes as he held Oliver's gaze fixed and ready.
"... You've better be joking," Dick spoke slowly, as if it took all his will-power not to explode.
"Dick...?" Felicity asked in concern and took a step closer to the man. "What's wrong?"
"Wrong?!" Dick swirled around to face the blonde with incredulous disbelief. "What's wrong is that your friend here is part of the Russian mafia, and a Captain at that, Felicity! Do you have any idea what that means?! What you have to commit to even be considered for such a position? Hmm?"
"Hey... I don't know what you're so upset about," Oliver said and took a step forward. "But you're angry with me, so don't take it out on her."
"Is that so, Oliver?" Dick followed orders and turned back to the man in question. "Then why don't you tell her about the crimes you committed to be a part of the world's most dangerous criminal league. Go on."
Oliver exhaled slowly, but Felicity raised her hand and stepped in between the two men before another word could be uttered.
"It's the past, Dick," the blonde said sternly. "No one in this room is a saint, but we all accept each other for who we are. We don't judge each other for our past sins. Can you at least hear him out...?"
"Past sins?" Dick laughed, the sound was desperate, angry and frustrated all at once as he stalked away from the others. He visibly shook with anger as he cried, "Felicity, it was a Bratva Captain who murdered my parents in cold blood!"
The room fell silent at the sudden outburst and Felicity closed her eyes.
She swallowed and quietly said, "... I... I didn't know."
"Of course you didn't... I never speak of it. I've only ever told two people before now," Dick exhaled slowly and some of his rage faded into the edges of the apartment. His shoulders slumped as he turned his attention back to Oliver and sighed, "...I won't apologize for the way I just acted... but I will remove myself before I say or do something I'll regret."
Felicity shook her head as she stepped towards him, one hand coming up to rest on the fabric of his chest. "Dick, I-"
"Let me go, Felicity."
Felicity saw the demons plague his eyes and lowered her hand slowly. She silently watched as the man walked away and listened to the front door slamming shut behind him. Oliver saw the desolate expression flee across the blonde's face and closed his eyes tight. Anatoly looked from Oliver to Felicity as the tense silence settled over their small team.
"Bratva... Always an icebreaker..." the bearded man remarked in an attempt to defuse the lingering tension.
Felicity unlocked the door to Dick's apartment and quietly stepped inside. She closed the door and kicked off her shoes as she stepped further into the heart of the flat. The place was bathed in darkness, but still she could feel his presence in the room.
She stepped into the living room and hesitated before she turned on the overhead lights. As the room was illuminated, Felicity saw a lone figure sitting on the middle of the sofa as if he was a desolate island in a vast wilderness.
"That's a bit bright..." Dick squinted against the lamps and covered his eyes briefly.
Felicity sighed as she sank onto the sofa beside him and whispered, "Are you okay?"
Dick shook his head and his gaze remained downcast as he uttered, "...I find it amusing, you know."
"What?"
"That when I find out the identity of the Captain to the Starling branch of Bratva... Oliver introduces us to the patkah soon after and wants said Captain gone. Too much of a coincidence, don't you think?"
"So?"
Dick wearily sighed and turned to face her with contempt and irritation passing through his eyes at full speed. "Felicity, open your eyes! Or is Oliver such a saint to your eyes that you-"
"You don't have the right to speak about Oliver that way, Richard! Nor to me in such a manner," she fiercely interrupted. "I'm not blind or stupid, Dick, I know what's going on. But I know Oliver and he doesn't have anything to do with how this has played out, so no, I don't blame him. He's made it quite clear in the past that he's distanced himself from the Russian mafia. I don't trust them, either, but I do trust Anatoly."
"Oh!" Dick breathed, hurt touching the edge of his frail voice. "So you're friendly with the Russian mobster, too?"
Felicity frowned. "I wouldn't call it that. It's not like I call Anatoly up every Friday night to dish over cute babushkas. But I do trust him. He would never betray Oliver... and he helped us once in Moscow. We owe him!"
"So you're allies with the Bratva?"
"You're twisting my words, Dick," Felicity exhaled in desperation. "Please, won't you listen to me?"
Something in the man's demeanor changed and he slumped lower in the sofa. "What if... I asked you not to help him?"
"Don't," she shook her head slowly and her eyes filled with hesitant conviction. "This isn't about me making a choice, Richard. This is about a friend who needs our help."
"But you are choosing," Dick firmly contended. "And you're choosing him."
"Anatoly needs-"
Dick's head whipped in her direction and he swiftly interrupted, "I wasn't talking about the Russian."
Felicity blinked and her expression faltered as she let his words settle in her heart. At length, she shook her head to clear it and breathed, "Then you're being unfair... I've already given you the reasons why I want to help Anatoly. Besides, I can still do some good while helping him. Anatoly explained his mission to me after you'd gone. He wants to control his own ranks, and has asked Oliver to remove the Captain in whichever way Oliver deem fit. Anatoly isn't demanding Oliver to kill the Captain, he's asking him the opposite. We'll be containing the Bratva and removing a dangerous threat from the streets."
Dick snorted unkindly. "He is the mafia, Felicity... he doesn't ask anything."
"No. Anatoly can't trust this haywire Captain, and is asking us to get him permanently behind bars."
"Felicity..." Dick exhaled in disbelieving amusement. "Oliver is harboring one of the most lethal and dangerous men in the world, and you are helping him. In extension; you are helping the Russian mafia."
The blonde lowered her gaze briefly as she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. At length, she cautiously looked up and breathed, "... Will you tell me? What happened to your family? Please. Help me understand."
Dick slowly shook his head and tears danced in his dark eyes as he revealed the truth, "... I was ten. I don't have many memories from that time, but I remember this night. It sticks out in a sea of mist. I remember that it had just stopped raining... and I was jumping in rain pools as we were walking home one night. Me and my parents. Then a man suddenly appeared from the shadows. He had a Russian accent and demanded to find someone. He was a rookie, he mistook my parents for another couple he was supposed to find. When my mother tried to correct him... he freaked and shot them both. Right before my eyes. For some reason, he didn't kill me. He just wiped the blood off his gun and disappeared into the night again."
Felicity exhaled in despair as she scooted closer to him and whispered, "Oh my God... Dick..."
The man swallowed before he found the strength to continue, "I lived on the street in Gotham, learned how to pickpocket and made my way in the shadows of the city. Then one day when I was twenty, I crossed paths with a masked vigilante wearing a cape and a bat on his suit. Batman. Or as I also came to know him; Bruce Wayne. Bruce took me under his wings and taught me everything about survival and fighting. I became his partner, and we patrolled the streets together... Around this time, I learned the identity of my parents' killers: Igor Stravskiy. Ukrainian. He was a torpedo for Solntsevskaya Bratva. Batman and I searched him out. Killed him... It was my first kill... and I've never looked back since. It didn't change anything... but it was justice. So you see, Felicity... Why I might struggle with this."
Tears danced in Felicity's eyes as she reached out for him. She pressed a kiss to a cheek before she pulled him close. Dick buried his face in the crook of her neck and held her as close as possible.
"It's not a simple language," Anatoly agreed. "I'll help you get started. 'Khorosho'. It means good."
Felicity brushed a strand of her hair behind her ear as she turned in the carseat to face the man. She licked her lips and tried to mimic him, "Kh-...Kho-..."
"Khorosho."
"Right. Khorosho."
Anatoly nodded. "Excellent, Ms Smoak. Then there's 'Plokho'. Means Bad."
"...'Plokho'. Good to know. Good place to... start," she glanced out the car window and saw the black motorcycle enter the alley further ahead. "Oh, here's Oliver."
Both Anatoly and Felicity exited the Jeep and stepped into the alleyway. The hour was still quite early in the day, it was barely past noon, and the skies were pale and grey above them. Both Anatoly and Felicity wore simple, dark clothes that didn't stand out too much in the afternoon. Oliver, too, was dressed in his suede leather jacket and black jeans. He removed his helmet and turned his attention to Felicity the second he turned back to them.
"... Dick's not coming then?" he asked and his eyes danced with an unspoken apology for putting her between a rock and a hard place.
The blonde shook her head and tugged on the sleeves of her own suede jacket. "No."
"We will manage without him, no?" Anatoly asked hopefully.
Oliver shrugged. "We'll see. And you're certain this is the place, Felicity?"
"Yes," Felicity nodded and turned towards the building further away. "If Anatoly's information's correct, that's the new base of operations for Bratva here in Starling."
"Remember," Oliver said and gave her a pointed look. "We're only here to scout right now."
"You may scout all you want," a throaty voice spoke from above. The trio turned in surprise as they saw a man in black gazing down at them from the rooftop of a low shed. In his hands rested a semi-automatic, aimed towards the three in the secluded alley. "All you'll find is trouble here today."
In the flash of a moment, Oliver pulled out a hidden flechette from his sleeve and hauled it at the man. It hit the assassin in the chest. The man looked startled for a second before his eyes rolled to the back of his skull and he fell backwards and out of sight.
"Sedative? I like that," Anatoly remarked with an energetic nod as he pointed in the direction of the roof.
"Come on," Oliver breathed and tugged on the man's jacket. He turned towards the Jeep, but several shots suddenly echoed from above. They pierced the hood of the car and embedded themselves in the large tires. Felicity and Anatoly gasped in surprise and ducked low as Oliver hovered before them, warily trying to grasp where the shooter was standing. He saw another man with a rifle stand on the opposite building and grimaced.
Felicity turned to Anatoly and breathed, "... Plokho?"
"Yes," the Russian fervently nodded as his wide eyes found hers. "Very plokho."
"Come on," Oliver pushed them both up from the ground and grabbed hold of Felicity's hand. "Run!"
He pulled on her arm and she steadied her rhythm accordingly. He took a sharp left turn and gazed behind to make sure Anatoly was close behind. Bullets pierced the walls on either side of them and Oliver gently tugged on Felicity's hand, urging her to run even faster. There were gunmen on both sides of the narrow alley and he felt adrenaline sharpen his mind and stamina. As he ran, Oliver managed to throw another flechette at one of the men above, but it narrowly missed its target.
"Faster!" Anatoly urged as they ran another corner. They ducked low behind containers and dumpsters as they searched for a way out.
Oliver gazed ahead and made a quick judgment call. A fence blocked their escape now, but the option of going back wasn't viable at this moment. Not unless they wanted to be pumped up with lead.
"Come here," Oliver called as they ran towards the fence. Felicity's hand still rested safe in his own as he pushed her forward. Anatoly pulled out a small, hidden gun from his waistband and provided them with a cover as he stood before them alike a human shield.
"Uh-uh, Oliver," the blonde breathed. "I don't know how to do parkour!"
"You're about to get a crash course!" Oliver spoke as he swiftly knelt before her, cupping his hands and expectantly holding it out for her. "Give me your foot. Hurry, Felicity."
Felicity barely hesitated as she placed her foot in his hands and grabbed hold of the top of the fence as Oliver pushed her upwards. "I've got it!" she said and managed to pull herself up and over, landing ungracefully on the ground on the other side.
"Go!" Anatoly ordered as he fired another shot against the attackers.
Oliver didn't hesitant as he hauled himself up the fence with ease and flipped over it, landing on the ground next to Felicity. He pulled her to her feet and smiled, "That was easy, wasn't it?"
They paused as Anatoly cried out in pain and fell to the ground beside the fence. A small dot of blood appeared on his shoulder and he wheezed in agony.
"No!" Oliver shouted as he threw himself towards the fence.
Another scream echoed through the afternoon then and both Felicity and Oliver turned as they saw a figure fall from the rooftops. The dead gunman landed on the ground, his neck twisted beyond normal capacity.
Dick leapt off the rooftop a second after, throwing a batarang at the men on the rooftop across from him. The remaining Bratva guards also fell dead as Dick landed on the ground in the alley.
His eyes were dark and something unreadable propelled him towards Anatoly. Dick viciously snarled as he knelt beside the Russian, blind fury having overtaken his body and soul. He whipped out another batarang and glared down at the man in his grasp.
"Richard!"
Dick and Anatoly turned as they heard Felicity's cry pierce the silence. Reluctantly, Dick sighed and released his hold of the man's jacket. He stepped back and Anatoly crawled to his feet.
Anatoly winced as Felicity stitched up the wound on his left shoulder. They'd ended up in the lair, in the end, since Anatoly's involvement and presence in Starling was better kept under lids. There was no point in taking him to the hospitals, unless they wanted a bigger circus than the one they were already in.
Felicity couldn't help but sympathetically wince as she met the man's gaze, "I'm sorry."
"No, no," Anatoly assured. "Do not apologize. You are saving me, Felicity."
"You're lucky it was a through-and-through," the woman suggested with a shrug as she finished up and packed away the suture kit. "Or so he says. I wouldn't have used the word 'luck' and 'through-and-through' in the same sentence. "
Oliver stepped towards the two in the medical area and smiled down at the blonde. "Good work, Felicity."
"Yes," Anatoly agreed as he eyed the patch that covered the stitches. With a sigh he pulled up his shirt and buttoned it. "It's not bad. Though it makes me believe maybe I should have gone to the Bahamas, after all."
Oliver chuckled low in amusement as he inclined his head.
Dick cleared his throat from the sidelines and the others turned to face him. The tall man shifted his weight from one foot to the other, seemingly like a lost child, as he searched for words to convey his intentions, "... You want to stop Brian Nudocerdo. Correct?"
Anatoly inclined his head briskly. "Da."
"... I can help you with that," Dick suggested, though the words seemed to get stuck in his throat as if they were made of barbed-wire. "But I have a condition. I'll help you, but only on my terms. The Bratva branch in Starling will shut down or relocate after Nudocerdo is taken down. The police will arrest whomever doesn't flee."
Anatoly shook his head as he rose from the table and stepped towards the man, "... I cannot-"
"It's my terms, and I think you should consider... since I did save your life," Dick interrupted fiercely and extended his hand towards the Russian. There was no room for debate and they both knew it. Dick shrugged his eyebrows. "Do you accept?"
Anatoly exhaled slowly as he shook the other man's hand. "You drive a hard bargain, Mr Grayson."
"I have a plan," Oliver spoke up and the others turned to him expectantly. "The men who attacked us today clearly don't know who Anatoly was, or they wouldn't have fired at us. Call Nudocerdo, Anatoly. Demand a meeting in their new base tonight. He'll gather the other members here in Starling, and we'll have them all in one place. Anatoly will remove himself and as soon as he's out we'll swoop in, with Detective Lance as backup."
"Actually, I have another suggestion to add to that," Felicity raised her voice and stepped over to her computers. She opened a file and pulled it onto the wide-screen that sat on the wall and the men turned towards the image, depicting the area they were currently discussing. "I checked up on the location and found out why the Bratva found it so... favorable. It seems this is the area in Starling where the police make the fewest rounds. No doubt due to corruption. They're using the one warehouse as a base of operations, and the other for storing illegal weapons meant to be shipped off and sold to dictators."
"That is right," Anatoly nodded in affirmation. "It is Nudocerdo's private business, however, and not authorized by Bratva. I have demanded he correct his actions according to Bratva rules, but he has refused."
"Well, how about we make it simple?" Felicity shrugged. "How about while you two take out the members, I'll blow up the second warehouse full of illegal goods?"
Anatoli eyed the blonde beside him as an intrigued grin spread across his lips. Slowly, he turned to gaze up at Oliver and remarked, "You have a very particular taste in women, Oliver."
In the cover of darkness, Nightwing and Arrow easily took down the guards on the roof above the Bratva location without alerting anyone's attention. They crouched low as they looked in through a dirty window, careful to remain out of sight even from this vantage point.
Far below, they saw Anatoly stand before a crowd of approximately fifty men, speaking to them in Russian. Next to him on the podium in the vast hall, stood a stout man. His hair was greying and his eyes dark as night. The aging police man still carried himself with a straight back, something Oliver recognized well in a cop's body language. Nudocerdo had a certain gleam to his eyes as he beheld his leader. Oliver didn't like it. He had a feeling the man would attempt to take out Anatoly if he should be given the chance and Oliver hastily withdrew an arrow, aiming at the man just in case.
Dick noticed the flurry of motion and followed the man's line of sight. "...Why not let them kill each other? They're the bad guys, aren't they? Why not let them do all the job for us?"
"Because that logic..." Oliver breathed tersely. "... is their logic. Anatoly is an old friend, and someone who's saved my life. I'll always help a friend. That's my logic."
Dick sighed into the cold night air but his answer remained unspoken, though Oliver practically felt wave after wave of disagreement exude from the man.
They watched as Anatoly finished his speech to the sounds of a loud round of applause that echoed through the building. The Russian bowed his head to his crowd before he stepped off the platform, giving room for Nudocerdo to speak next.
Oliver's gaze trailed after Anatoly as the man hastily made his exit. Oliver pressed his comm link and spoke, "Felicity, Anatoly's on his way out. Dick and I are going in."
"Be careful," came her swift reply.
Oliver inclined his head to Dick, and the latter hastily broke the window before them and threw a couple of smoke bombs inside.
Dick smirked as he waved a hand towards the hole. "Ladies first."
Anatoly pulled upon the backdoor to the van and smiled at the blonde woman as he stepped into the car and joined her side.
"They're in," Felicity breathed and nodded to the camera feed that showed on her tablet.
Anatoly took it from her hands and gazed down at the image. It showed the inside of the first warehouse and though it seemed to be mainly covered in a thick smoke, he could catch the odd glimpse of the fight taking place inside. His expression remained solemn but he inclined his head in acceptance nonetheless.
Felicity dialed a familiar number and pressed the phone to her ear. "Detective Lance? You're good to go."
As she hung up the phone and put it back in her pocket, she picked up a small device and exhaled. She eyed the control that would set off the explosives she'd rigged around the second warehouse and swallowed. "Now we just await the confirmation."
Oliver groaned as a kick caught him in the chest, but soon found his balance once more. He punched his attacker with his bow and watched as the woman fell to the ground and remained down.
As the smoke settled around him, he got a better view of the situation. He and Dick were greatly outnumbered, but had thus far made it out unharmed in the commotion that had followed the smoke bombs. He heard several moans from his left and turned as he saw Dick knock out two more men with guns in their hands.
Suddenly, Oliver heard several sirens blaring from outside the wide gates and felt the panic increase inside the room at once. Several terrified mafia members turned towards the exits in an attempt to flee, but the police was already invading the room like ants in a stack.
"SCPD, nobody move!" Lance cried out as he led the troops into the warehouse. "You're all under arrest!"
As expected, his call only further drove the others towards desperation and everyone pulled out their guns and other weapons, reluctant to give up their freedom without a fight.
Lance ducked a shot and rushed towards the platform where he'd last seen the Chief of police. He leapt onto the podium and aimed his gun at the man who lay shivering on the cold floor.
"Nudocerdo..." Lance breathed as he stepped closer. "You're under-"
His voice cut off as something small and black came flying out of the crowds, hitting the Chief of police square in the chest. Quentin spun around as he saw Nightwing several yards away. The vigilante stood his ground for another second, holding his chin high, before he turned back to the fight. Quentin sighed as he knelt beside the dead Nudocerdo.
After several minutes of watching the fight on the tablet, Oliver's strained voice finally spoke over the commlinks," Felicity? Nudocerdo is down. Blow the warehouse up."
"On it." Felicity fervently nodded as she pulled the lever. Nothing happened. "Oh, come on."
Oliver sounded confused and irritated as his voice filled her ear, "... Felicity?"
"It's good. It's fine. It just needs a little love and-" Felicity cut herself off as Anatoly pulled the control from her hand.
Anatoly slammed his hand on the side of the small device a couple of times and then pressed the lever once more. The building outside the van exploded in a maddening frenzy. Felicity blinked up at the devouring flames and slowly turned to face the Russian beside her.
Anatoly shrugged. "Sorry. Russian solution."
Hours later, Quentin leaned back in his chair and gazed down at his report. 45 mafia members arrested, 4 killed in the mayhem that had ensued... and no police casualties. All in all, he thought, a very good night.
There was a knock on his booth and Quentin turned as he saw Frank Pike, dressed in a suit as always, enter his booth.
"I hear you had a very successful evening, Quentin," the man offered in greeting.
"Yeah..." Quentin smiled. "That's one way of putting it. Granted, I would have preferred to put Nudocerdo behind bars... but at least he won't be making any more trouble. The City can sleep a little more peacefully tonight."
"As far as I gather, the entire Bratva branch in Starling City is down for the count..." the lieutenant pointed out and pride crept into his low voice. "And you've helped quench the corruption within the police force. The new Chief of police is very impressed with your work, Quentin."
Lance merely shrugged as he embraced the kind words. "I was just doing my job, sir."
Frank chuckled. "Yes, you did... Captain."
Quentin blinked as he slowly rose from his seat. "Did you just say...?"
"Congratulations, Quentin, you're being promoted to Captain. Frankly, I think you should have been promoted to Captain already after Slade Wilson's attack on Starling... but better later than never, right?" Frank winked as he handed over the brand new badge.
Quentin couldn't help his smirk from widening as he accepted the badge and gazed down at it with pride.
"So... I just dropped Anatoly off at the airport," Felicity breathed as she stepped into Dick's flat and found him reclined in the sofa. "... Is everything okay in here?"
She could tell there was something different about the air and she faltered in the open doorway. Dick turned towards her with acceptance in his eyes as he rose and exhaled slowly. He kept his distance as he looked across the gap at her and sighed, "How about... you and I stop fooling each other and do the right thing."
Felicity smiled in confusion. "What do you mean?"
The man grimaced as he stepped closer towards the blonde woman. "Please, don't... Just... Don't. I'm trying to be better here."
Felicity's smile faded as Dick held her gaze. The silence around her was deafening and she lowered her gaze to the floor with a strained breath. "... Okay."
"We both know this won't work. That we have an expiration date that we're quickly approaching," Dick hesitated and swallowed past the bile that was threatening to rise within his throat. "You're one of the most fascinating, amazing people I've ever met, Felicity... I don't want you to ever doubt your own potential. But... we're just not meant to be."
Felicity felt the truth wash over her and clenched her eyes shut for a second. Eventually, she found the strength to raise her gaze and look into the man's eyes. "No... We're not. And you're not so bad yourself, you know."
"I hope not," Dick smiled as he distantly nodded. "... I'm leaving Starling, Felicity. I think we both need some space, and... Besides, I've done what I came here to do. Starling City's not plagued by the Bratva anymore and the corruption is pretty low, at least for the moment."
"Where will you go?"
Dick's grin widened as his gaze warmed. "Home. I think it's time to pay an old friend a visit."
Oliver exhaled slowly and grimaced as he felt the needle pierce his skin. Diggle slowly stitched up a nasty cut on Oliver shoulder blade. The lair was otherwise quiet and empty and Oliver reveled in the notion of some solitude after a crazy twenty-four hours.
"It's not that bad," Diggle said as he assessed the damage. "It'll heal in no time. Shouldn't interfere with your work."
"I know," Oliver nodded and grimaced to himself once more. "I can't help but wonder... if I pushed Dick too far, Dig. He didn't want to help, but I knew he'd worked harder than anyone for this cause. I needed his help in the field."
"Oliver-"
"Diggle..." Oliver breathed tensely and the truth was harder to admit than he'd been prepared for. "I need you, too. Yes, I'm reluctant to endanger your life because of your family, but you were right... I rely on you. All of you. And you can have both lives..."
Diggle smiled in appreciation. "That's all I wanted to hear, Oliver. I'm glad you're coming to your senses."
"Let's not get carried away here," Oliver said and the two men chuckled.
"...Hey, guys. Thought I'd find you here."
Both Oliver and Diggle raised their gazes in surprise as they saw Felicity slowly descend the steps to the lair.
Felicity stopped at the bottom step and inhaled the familiar scents around her, taking comfort in their constancy and the strange safety they offered her. She turned to her left and met Diggle and Oliver's questioning gazes. Her broken heart beat slightly out of rhythm, but the image of them pieced it back together a little.
"Hey..." Oliver breathed as she stepped towards them. "I thought you were at home with Dick...?"
Felicity bobbed her head in a non-committed nod as she stepped around the steel table to stand beside Diggle. Without a word, she reached for the needle in his hand and looked up at him. Diggle offered her a worried frown but nodded as he handed her the needle without objection.
Diggle slowly stepped around the table and inclined his head towards the stairs. "How about... I buy us all some coffee? Felicity, hot cocoa for you?"
"Please," she whispered and offered him a warm smile.
Diggle inclined his head sharply as he turned and walked up the steps. The lair fell silent once more as Felicity set to work. Oliver felt her hands softly steer the needle through his skin and stitch him back together.
"Dick went back to Gotham. For good, I think."
"What...?" Oliver breathed as his heart plummeted with concern for her. He tried to turn in his seat, but she gently pushed on his back.
"I'm not done yet," she breathed and Oliver stopped. He faced forward once more and exhaled wearily as she continued to stitch his back.
Oliver searched for words to ease her discomfort, "Long distance doesn't have to-"
"No. It's over," she assured him with a distant tone he couldn't quite place.
"... It's my fault. And Bratva, I shouldn't have pushed-"
"It's no one's fault. It's life, Oliver," Felicity disagreed in a low, gentle voice. She finished the suturing and slowly patched him up.
Oliver exhaled unsteadily and his chin fell to his chest. "I'm still sorry, Felicity."
"I'm... not," Felicity spoke and her words were filled with both sorrow and surprise as she hurriedly blurted, "Don't get me wrong. Of course it hurts right now. I don't know... I do care for him, a lot... but... I wasn't in love with him. You were right. I wanted emotions to be there even though they weren't. We both did, and we just couldn't fool each other anymore. It was... mutual. Sort of. I know that must probably sound slightly schizophrenic, but I... I'll be alright. It had to be done, because..."
When her words trailed off into nothingness, Oliver turned in his seat to face her. Her eyes danced with emotions behind a thin veil as she held his gaze captive. He could see everything that remained unspoken between them and for the first time, he didn't feel like hesitating around her. He could see her love for him glisten in the deep pools. He could see her doubts plain and simple, and felt a need to reassure her he shared the same heart. Still, he held back as he also saw her raw sorrow mingle with every other emotion in her eyes. She needed time to recover and get over this break up, but this time he wouldn't step back.
He exhaled slowly as he placed a hand on her shoulder and let it linger there, conveying what words could not in this moment in time.
She blinked and lowered her gaze, however, which made Oliver frown in response. He saw her raise a wall as she once more met his gaze and he could see she had misinterpreted his attempt at comfort.
"I know it's unthinkable, Oliver-" she began and her voice filled with acceptance.
Oliver shook his head firmly. "Felicity... It never was. Not to me."
Her sapphire pools widened in surprise. "... Oh!"
Oliver's gaze roamed across hers as he saw the surprise settle into knowledge and understanding in her eyes. In the end, another inch of sorrow seemed to melt away from her eyes as she offered him a small smile.
"Thanks for letting me stay here," Felicity smiled as Quentin held open the door for her. "I wasn't really sure where else to go, though I'm fortunate to have a few options."
"Hey, my place is always open for the broken hearted," Quentin smiled as he nodded towards the pink suitcase in his hand. "I'll just drop this in the spare bedroom and I'll be right with you, okay?"
Felicity smiled gratefully and nodded. "Okay."
"Make yourself at home in the meanwhile."
Felicity sank onto the sofa as he slipped out of the room, and soon lost herself in thought.
Her life fit in a single suitcase.
She hadn't really stopped to consider it after Slade had burned down her home, how much she had actually lost in the fire. She'd stayed with Dick's so often, and in the lair the rest of the time, that there hadn't been any need to get new stuff except for clothes. But now when Dick had moved out of town, Felicity had packed all her belongings into one bag and found herself once more without a place to stay.
She wasn't sure what had made her call Quentin, but it had her choice in the end. It was the least complicated of all her options, and he'd offered her his spare bedroom without a moment's hesitation. With fatherly concern, he had opened his home to her and the notion touched her heart.
Torn between gratitude of his parental protection, grief over losing someone who'd been a major part of her life these past months and acceptance of the man who truly held her heart, Felicity felt overwhelmed and tears rolled down her cheeks.
On the fire escape opposite Quentin's flat, Oliver sat crouched out of sight. He wore his Arrow outfit, but had yet to pull up his hood or put on his mask, as he peaked a glimpse into a life he one day wanted to be part of.
As he looked, he saw Felicity break down in tears. Oliver felt his heart constrict for her and he closed his eyes tight. He heard Quentin re-join her then and looked down at the visage before him that played out in the night. He was too far away to hear what they were saying, but he watched as the man, who'd become something of a father figure for the young blonde these past few months, sank onto the pillows next to Felicity and pulled her close while whispering something to her.
Quentin's hand gently stroked across her back as she wept and Oliver exhaled in relief. He knew Quentin Lance would do everything in his power to help the young woman recover, and with a final nod, Oliver hauled himself over the railing and disappeared into the night.
To be continued!