Chapter Text
Let the Cat Out of the Bag
{refers to a secret being revealed} {in medieval times, farmers would take pigs to market in a bag, sometimes they would put a cat in the bag instead of a pig. if the bag was opened, the secret would be revealed, but often buyers would not look in the mag to make sure}
Wells wants a fight.
(Well actually his name is Eobard, Eobard Thawne, and, as trippy as that is, it’s probably important for Barry to remember that the real Dr. Wells died long long ago).
And Barry is prepared to give it to him.
Because he’s angry, god, he’s so so angry. He’s angry that Cold betrayed him, angry that the other metas escaped. Angry that he has been trying so so hard to do everything all by himself without any help and failing miserably. Angry that, even when he did reach out for help, he got nothing.
Barry feels alone.
And angry.
So he goes down there by himself against everyone else’s wishes. Goes down there because he feels like he has something to prove. Goes down there because everything is falling to pieces around him and he needs to put a stop to it.
But, as it turns out, he doesn’t have to face the Reverse Flash alone.
Because Ronnie drops from the sky, and Barry would shout his name in relief if Caitlin wasn’t already doing it over the comms.
And then Oliver does. Oliver, who hasn’t been answering any of Barry’s calls or texts. Oliver, who Felicity had told him was the Heir to the Demon now. Oliver, who Lyla had said was in Nanda Parbat. Oliver, who isn’t supposed to be here (shouldn’t be here) but is anyway. Oliver, who came through for Barry when he thought he had no one else.
(And yes, he knows that his view of the Arrow may be a little biased) (knows that Joe is right that he shouldn’t be trying to emulate him) (knows that there is light and dark in the world and that Oliver is made of too much dark and not enough light) (but he can’t help it) (because it is, in Cisco’s words, just so freaking awesome).
And they all take down Wells together. Ready, Aim, and Fire all together, with help from Ray Palmer’s formula, and, for the first time all week, Barry feels like he’s winning.
“I need a favor.” Oliver asks of him when it’s all done.
“Whenever, wherever.” Is Barry’s only response, and it’s true, because he owes his friend this. Owes him everything and anything. Whenever. Wherever.
As it turns out, whenever is right now and wherever is Nanda Parbat. Because Felicity is dying (but not really) and Barry needs to get her and Ray and the others out of there as fast as he can. So he runs fast as he can to where she is. Where they all are. And he gets there just in time.
Well, just in time to see Felicity Smoak wake up and take a breath.
.
.
.
The first breath is painful, excruciatingly so, and she is reminded of the time she almost drowned as a child. The coughs hurt as well, but she needs them like she needs the air around her because if she doesn’t get them, she’s going to die. (She’s already died once today and it’s not an experience she’d like to repeat).
Then Malcolm breathes.
Then Ray.
Then Diggle and Laurel and Felicity is still trying to wrap her brain around how they’re not dead, because they should be dead.
“Not that I’m complaining, but shouldn’t we be dead?”
Her thoughts exactly.
(Well not really, because her thoughts keep circling back to one thought and short circuit beyond that and she can’t seem to comprehend anything other than)
“Oliver tried to kill us.”
Malcolm offers a half-baked explanation but Felicity ignores him because her brain still can’t get beyond that fact and she is lost in a cloud of smoke and despair and poison filling her lungs. And she’s hoping that the coughing and the breathing will clear a path through the fog in her mind but they don’t, they just drown out the sound of her teammates arguing around her.
She clears her throat, but it doesn’t clear her thoughts, but she begins to speak anyway because she needs to reason out what has happened, needs to apply logic to a situation so illogical that it has her brain short-circuiting.
“Okay, assuming this is all some part of a brilliant double-double-cross, or triple-cross; I’m losing count, your master plan still has one major flaw since we’re still chained in a dungeon.”
Merlyn tries to patronize her but she doesn’t hear it because all of a sudden a rumbling noise fills the room, like the sound of lightning storm.
And then she sees him. And then the fog clears. Because he is her pillar and she is no longer falling through a clouded mist.
“You guys have a hot tub? Nice.”
Felicity faintly hears a comment made from the end of the hall and then he’s there and in her face, smiling like the giant nerd he is and she could not be more happy to see him.
“Hey, guys.” She scrambles to her feet, barely believing her eyes. “Wow, I mean, this is like a real dungeon.”
“Barry!” She calls out, a smile filling her face and threatening to consume her.
“Thank you, Felicity,” he replies, shooting a glance at Merlyn, “you just outed my secret identity to a supervillain.”
(It’s the night of tears and broken bottles and Agent Carter that she whispers those words to him once) (in a question as to why Oliver would ever consider working with a literal supervillain) (a question she still doesn’t have an answer to) (she’s broken down in his lap and his hands are in her blonde hair, fingers curling strands of it with uncertainty when they leave her lips and she’s sure he hasn’t heard her, sure he doesn’t care) (but yet here he is, remembering them) (and saying them in such a teasing and lighthearted way that she is once again so grateful to have him) (once again she wonders what she would do without him).
“No offense.” He adds as an afterthought, and then proceeds to phase through a wall.
(He’d told her about this power the night Ray got shot) (in hushed tones because she was in the hospital and he was being careful not to let anyone know he was onto Wells) (and she’d thought about it, knew it existed, but never like this). (Truth be told, she’s impressed).
And then he gets them out.
And gets a bear hug. Because Felicity’s like that.
They walk into the room where the League has stored their weapons with hands and shoulders brushing because they both need to feel, need to know, that the other one’s there and alive. (Mostly Felicity, but Barry just almost lost her too). It’s a bit difficult because both of them can’t really fit through the narrow archway at once, but they make do, because she’s not letting go of him until she has to.
And then they know it’s goodbye. And she doesn’t want it to be, she really doesn’t want it to be, because she’s honestly terrified, but she’s less so with him by her side, and tears begin to fill her eyes as she begs him to stay and help. “And not to be greedy, but we could really use your help on this whole Starling City supervirus thing.”
He can’t watch her almost tear up without getting a little misty himself, but he has to go, knows he has to, and he tells her that too, trying as hard as he can to put all the emotions of an unspoken goodbye into his words. “You know I would, but I am overdue for a very pointed conversation with Harrison Wells.”
He can’t look at her anymore, can’t watch the way the hope falls from her eyes, so he turns to the rest of his friends (and Merlyn). “I’m sure Oliver’s got this.”
They try and explain to him why Oliver certainly doesn’t, but all Felicity can do is hold her grey backpack tightly to her chest in a desperate effort to keep herself together.
But then Barry mentions he’s seen Oliver recently, spoken to him, and Felicity’s hearts soars because maybe he’s not all dead inside yet.
“Good luck.” Barry tells her before speeding off and she realizes it’s the first time they’ve said goodbye without their usual sign off.
It feels wrong and unfinished.
Like the ending of Mockingjay felt unfinished.
She swears on her life that she’ll see him again.
.
.
.
Felicity Smoak and Barry Allen are hopelessly in love.
Just not with each other.
They would probably not be as happy as they are right now if they were in love with each other.
(If they were in love with each other, Felicity wouldn’t have regained the love of her life).
(If they were in love with each other, Barry wouldn’t know that Iris feels the same about him).
(If they were in love with each other, Felicity wouldn’t have given Oliver something to fight for, to live for, and Starling City may have permanently lost it’s hero).
(If they were in love with each other, Barry wouldn’t know that he marries the love of his life).
(If they were in love with each other, Oliver wouldn’t have chosen Felicity over the Arrow and they wouldn’t be off on a road trip together).
(If they were in love with each other, Iris and Eddie wouldn’t have broken up).
Yet, sometimes they both still wish they had fallen in love with each other.
Moments like this one when Felicity is lying on her stomach on the bed in the room of the Route 66 hotel that she’s staying at illegally livestreaming the new Avengers movie with Barry. (Because, despite the great distance between them at the moment, they’re allowing themselves to have a normal friendship, one that doesn’t involve rescuing each other from almost-death and instead involves geeking out over stuff with each other) (the friendship they should’ve had in the first place) (the friendship they deserve).
“You know, we really should’ve seen this for the first time together.”
“Please, you don’t actually think that. I know for a fact that you saw it with Iris.”
“Yeah, but you’re the only one besides Cisco who really understands when I start freaking out about this sort of stuff.”
“I am honored to fill that role. To be fair, however, this is my first time actually seeing it.”
“Only because you and Oliver were making out in the back of the theater like teenagers instead of actually watching the movie.”
Felicity only blushes a little bit. “I am so regretting telling you that. Okay, I’m starting the stream again. We are finishing this one.”
So they watch. And they finish. (Albeit with pauses in between for rants on both parts about the things they like and the things they don’t) (with pauses for jokes and bathroom breaks and when Barry goes to get the pizza he ordered). And it is only when they do that they are interrupted.
Oliver opens the door of Felicity’s hotel room just as Iris calls “Bar?”
They both turn to look at each other for a moment before their screens are filled with sights of the other couple (even though Barry and Iris are not actually a couple yet, but Felicity’s sure they’ll get there eventually) (after all, it’s what the future dictates).
“Sorry Barry, I’m taking my girlfriend back; we have dinner reservations at eight.”
Felicity gives him a slightly apologetic look, but he knows she doesn’t really mean it, because she’s obviously excited for these dinner reservations, even though he’s pretty sure these two have eaten every meal together for the past six days.
“Good.” Iris replies for him, coming into the room and then into frame. “Because I believe you swore you were going to shatter my bowling record once and for all.”
“Bye, Barry.” Felicity hums happily.
“Bye, Felicity.” Barry replies, equally as happy.
And they don’t have to pretend that they love each other, because they do, just not in the same way that they love the two people who have called them away from their computers. In any other universe they might’ve acted on the fact that they are perfectly perfect for each other, but love isn’t about which puzzle pieces fit together, it’s about who makes you feel like your heart is running a marathon, it’s about who makes your skin feel like it’s on fire with just one touch.
And, as Oliver helps Felicity up from the bed and into his arms with a kiss while Iris takes Barry’s hand and pulls him out the door, both of them feel those feelings. So yeah, might as well let the cat out of the bag: they’re hopelessly in love, and they’re stupidly happy because of it.