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Felicity and Brynn, her uniquely Unsettled daemon, become very aware a week into living at the Queen mansion that Oliver and his own Unsettled and Separated daemon, Strelka, have an… unusual relationship.
Without even getting into their interactions, the two are strange due to their stark differences in personality. Brynn is the one to point this out. Felicity and her daemon are very similar, and the only dissimilarity between them is that Brynn has a more cautious side. Oliver and Strelka are parts of the same soul, meant to be echoes and mirror images of each other, but they could not be more different.
Oliver is calm and collected about ninety percent of the time, unless he’s being pressured or startled, at which point he jumps on the alert and develops a tense, hunted, cagey air about him. He seems very vigilant of his surroundings at all times; his movements are always precise and deliberate, as if he’s trying to conserve energy. It’s a drastic change to what he used to be like, Felicity understands, from listening to Moira, Thea and their daemons whisper about him. Before his five years away, Oliver had a flamboyant and lively personality - he was bordering on narcissistic. Now, he’s completely the opposite. He lets other people talk for him and listens diligently, trying to discern every detail of the conversation… gathering information. He’s quiet and scarily still.
Strelka, his daemon, on the other hand, seems constantly anxious. She’s restless and agitated unless she needs to focus on something. Although upon first meeting her, she appears serious and stern, Felicity soon comes to realize that she’s quite a high-spirited and curious daemon, quite often wanting to play with Brynn. Strelka’s various favorite forms reflect both her personality and Oliver’s. As a puma and black falcon, she’s exuberant and warm. She normally takes puma form when play-chasing and fighting with Brynn, who takes ocelot form. As a wolf, Strelka is silent, attentive and dangerously intense.
Her hare is the most interesting and definitely the most mysterious. She rarely takes that form, and when she does, it’s often because Oliver has entered a strange dazed, distant state which Felicity recognizes as a kind of dissociation. It’s usually when the island is brought up that Oliver reacts like that. He stares off into nothing with dead eyes, a blank face and an empty, haunted expression, and Strelka curls up as a hare at his feet, her huge ears pricked high and tall, her body vibrating with nervous energy.
Then, there’s the way Oliver and Strelka communicate. They speak to each other with respect, like equals, as humans often do with their daemons, but Oliver doesn’t touch her. A person’s daemon is considered their most treasured and precious companion, incredibly loyal and trustworthy beyond anybody else, since their daemon is an extension of their very being. Most people shower their daemons with affection. But Oliver and Strelka don’t have any of that loving, familiar contact; she doesn’t brush against his legs, he doesn’t instinctively reach down to stroke her fur… in fact, they seem all too content to not even be near each other, some days.
Being Separated means that Strelka doesn’t have to stay near her human’s side as most daemons have to - she can travel as far away from him as she pleases. But most Separated daemons prefer to stay close, even with that option available. Strelka doesn’t. She stalks the Queen mansion grounds at night, goes for runs through the Glades, and takes flights over the city skyscrapers. Oliver doesn’t seem to mind or care. Sometimes he doesn’t even notice that Strelka is gone, until somebody points it out. He doesn’t seem concerned at all by her solo jaunts, despite everybody else’s unease. In fact… Felicity would even go as far to say that he’s relieved that she’s not by his side. Oliver’s own daemon appears to make him uncomfortable.
There’s something inherently wrong about it. Felicity knows, of course, that she has no right to judge Oliver and his daemon. She should really be thanking them for the rest of her life, considering they saved her and Brynn from being dragged away by ARGUS. But she can’t help but try and figure out an explanation for it.
One plausible reason is the fact that Oliver and Strelka have just returned to Starling City. He’s been back home after being rescued from a deserted island where he was trapped and struggling to survive for five years, the same number of days Felicity has stayed in the Queen mansion so far. And that’s not many.
He’s surrounded by strangers in what used to be his old house, as well. Not just literal strangers, like Felicity and Brynn; everybody he knew before the island has changed. Thea is nearly an adult and her daemon, Orin, has settled into a coyote. She’s wild and ostentatious and, Felicity thinks, selfish, because she keeps demanding Oliver open up and tell them about the island, when he’s probably traumatized and not ready to talk about it. Moira and Walter are married now. Oliver left for China on the Queen’s Gambit with his father, and certainly hadn’t expected to find that his mother had remarried after Robert Queen had died. His friends are older, and some of them are bitter and cruel to him, or too hopeful and eager for Oliver to join them in activities they used to partake in during their glory days, like partying and sleeping around, when Oliver clearly isn’t interested in any of that now.
Oliver and Strelka are undoubtedly struggling to adjust to being back in civilization. Felicity and Brynn imagine that everything must be too big, too loud, and too rich and luxurious for them. They’ve been fighting tooth, claw, and nail to survive on nature in the harshest of conditions for half a decade, and suddenly they now have new technologies, rich foods and all of society’s sordid rules and suppositions thrust in their faces. Maybe the two of them did spend a lot of time apart normally on the island, to try and be more efficient in terms of collecting water and food, and maintaining shelter. Maybe Oliver and Strelka became so utterly sick of each other’s company day after day on the island, that they slowly grew apart. That doesn’t seem possible for a human and their daemon, but Felicity reckons that it could happen, given the correct circumstances.
Brynn thinks that it’s the Separation itself causing their behavior. “Imagine having your soul shattered, and split into two,” he says, as they discuss it quietly one morning in their bedroom, as Felicity gets dressed. He’s lying on the foot of her bed in his ocelot form, flicking his long tail back and forth thoughtfully. “Imagine the damage that would cause. The trauma of it all has morphed them into separate individuals because they’re not connected anymore.”
“But they are still sort of connected,” she reminds him. “Just because they’re Separated - and only partially, remember - that doesn’t mean they don’t share the same soul. That link between them might have been severed slightly, but they still arose as one being in two bodies, like all people and their daemons, before the Separation happened. I’m not denying the fact that they were both probably badly injured by being torn apart, but their personalities shouldn’t have shifted that much. They should still be similar. They should still be close.”
Brynn huffs and swishes his tail so it sweeps across the back of her leg. “I think it hurts them to touch each other now. Didn’t you see Oliver at dinner last night? Strelka accidentally clipped his head with her wing when she flew off with Loreu -” Walter’s raven daemon “- and he flinched as if he’d been stabbed or something. A clip like that shouldn’t have hurt him.”
“Strelka was fine, though.”
Brynn opens his mouth to respond… and then grumbles unhappily, shifting into goldfinch form to flit up onto her shoulder. “Yes, alright, good point. I might ask her about it.”
Felicity and Brynn have been welcomed into the Queen mansion, and she’s thankful that her daemon gets on with the others so well. Strelka actually avoids hanging out with the other daemons if she’s able to. She’s respectful to Tariel, Moira’s Asiatic lion daemon, and will exchange conversation occasionally with Walter’s raven. She’ll play along with Thea’s coyote daemon whenever he gets hyper. But it seems as if the daemon she’s closest to is Brynn, who she is the least familiar with.
In fact, Strelka is almost possessive with Brynn. She winds her tail around his as if staking a claim, and wraps her wing around him to shelter him from other daemons’ prying eyes. She transformed into a wolf and full-out snarled at Tommy’s kit fox daemon Nypha when she got flirty. Laurel’s wolverine daemon Hasta narrowly avoided a nasty scratch on his nose when Strelka lashed at her in puma form, when Laurel said something scathing about Felicity living with the Queens. Brynn has told Felicity that it’s actually quite frustrating. He’s different from all the other daemons because he’s Unsettled, but this strange relationship with Strelka, who is, by all accounts, a little antisocial, is distancing him even further from the rest of his kind.
“I wouldn’t,” Felicity advises him. “Oliver and Strelka get all stiff when you try and ask them questions. She’ll just be evasive and then stick to your side like a limpet, like she normally does.”
The next day, Oliver, Tommy and their daemons are kidnapped. It’s a traumatizing, horrid affair for everybody involved. Felicity and Brynn are terrified for a couple of hours that they were abducted by ARGUS, but then Quentin Lance, with his black vulture daemon, gets in contact with the fretting Queen family to tell them that the men have been recovered and don’t appear to have been harmed. They arrive back at the Queen mansion that evening with a police escort. Oliver is immediately hugged by his mother and sister, who babble on about how worried they were for him, but they don’t seem to care about how he’s cringing away due to his touch sensitivity. Not wanting to disrupt the family moment, Felicity lurks near the bottom of the staircase and then in the doorframe of the living room when they all traipse through, so the police can question the men about what happened.
Tommy’s kit fox cowers near his feet, soothed only by Thea’s coyote, who grooms his fur sedately to try and calm him down. The other daemons, including Brynn, hover around them protectively.
Strelka is nowhere to be seen.
One of the detectives, Hilton, who has a fox terrier daemon, takes Oliver and Tommy’s statements, and notices as well. “Where’s your daemon, Queen?”
“She spooked and flew off,” Oliver replies.
He’s remarkably cool and composed for somebody who was just drugged, captured off the streets and apparently tortured with a taser. His nonchalance as he describes how his kidnappers interrogated him about the Gambit and his father’s death is chilling. Felicity is alarmed by how unaffected he seems to be after what must have been an awful experience. Tommy is shaking like a leaf as he tells his side of the story, in comparison. Lance and Hilton leave with the description of Oliver and Tommy’s rescuer, a man in a green hood with no visible daemon who killed the men holding them.
“Oliver would have watched his kidnappers being murdered,” Brynn says later on, as Felicity makes herself hot cocoa in the kitchen once everybody has retired to bed. He curls up around her neck in ermine form, his soft white fur and warm body like a wonderful living scarf. “He said that he was awake when the Hood guy swung in. That means he witnessed the man snapping all those guys’ necks.”
Felicity shakes her head in disbelief. “How was he so calm?” she mutters. “People were killed directly in front of him and he barely blinked when telling the police earlier.”
“I don’t think today was the first time Oliver has seen people die,” Brynn whispers.
“How come?”
The daemon hesitates, and then tells her hushedly, “He’s covered in scars. All different types, from different weapons… knives, gunshots, burns, whips… Oliver Queen and his daemon were not alone on that island, Felicity, despite what he claims. And Strelka is all scarred up too - you can see them, under her fur and feathers. The tip of her tail was sliced off.” Come to think of it, Felicity did notice that. In puma and wolf form, her tail ends in a little slump rather than tapering off, and as a black falcon, her tail feathers seem to have been cut. “What happened to them there, Felicity?”
Felicity shivers, making the long walk in the dark through the lower halls and back towards the foyer, so she can ascend the main staircase. Navigating this maze-like house is still difficult, and even worse when it’s almost pitch black. “I don’t know. I don’t know if I want to know.”
There’s the sound of quick paws thumping on the wooden floors. Felicity freezes, her heart thrumming like a hummingbird’s wings. Leaping down from her shoulders, Brynn swiftly shifts into ocelot form, his mottled fur bristling and fangs bared in a snarl.
Piercing amber eyes stare at them from the shadows, gleaming as the dark shape very slowly approaches her. A sigh of relief escapes both Felicity and Brynn when the figure reveals itself to be Strelka, as a wolf. Her dark fur is fluffed up from the rain, but is likely standing on end as well.
“Is Oliver alright?” she asks quietly, her ears swiveling.
“He’s fine,” Felicity answers, her voice just as low in volume. “Too fine, if you ask me.”
Strelka bows her head, as if knowing exactly what Felicity is talking about. “Oliver and I are well acquainted with battle and suffering. That doesn’t mean we are emotionless. If Oliver appeared impassive today, it was because he was wearing a mask.” The blonde blinks in surprise. So Oliver was just pretending to be okay? If that’s true, then how has he managed to perfect the art of acting like he doesn’t feel anything? The wolf inclines her head. “Goodnight, Felicity.” She leans down to scrape her tongue over the fur on top of Brynn’s head fondly. “Goodnight, Brynn.”
Troubled, Felicity watches her depart, slinking up the grand staircase with lithe movements that one might not expect from a wolf, before she vanishes off down the corridor leading to Oliver’s room, which is three doors down from Felicity’s. The ocelot at her feet releases a longing chitter, peering after her.
“She’s infuriatingly cryptic,” Brynn notes. “But at least she gives away more than Oliver does. I wonder what he would say if he knew that she sometimes lets his secrets slip.”
“Do you ever think about what it must be like?” Felicity asks Brynn sadly. “Being Separated?”
“Like a phantom pain,” he replies, his voice low.
John Diggle arrives not long after, an ex-special forces soldier who has been hired by Moira as a bodyguard for her son, who she believes keeps getting himself into reckless situations somehow on purpose. His daemon is a huge black and brown Doberman with a booming, deep bark and canines that are sharper than Brynn’s when he’s an ocelot. Her name is Herra, and although she appears intimidating and dangerous, she’s actually sweet and caring, greeting Brynn cheerfully. Strelka still doesn’t like her; she perches on Oliver’s shoulder as a black falcon for Oliver’s introduction to Diggle, but promptly swoops down to switch into puma form to size the dog up. Diggle takes the fact that Oliver and Felicity both have Unsettled daemons into his stride, and asks if both of them will be his charges to protect, since interested parties will be gunning after the two of them. Felicity responds that she and Oliver don’t hang out all that often - they just live in the same house, because he’s made a deal with the head of ARGUS to leave her alone - so being bodyguard to them both might be a problem.
Moira seems to realize that Diggle has a point, about them both being targets, because within an hour, she gets Felicity a bodyguard too. She protests vehemently, but Moira insists, and with Tariel, her giant lion daemon, glaring at Brynn from behind his human, Felicity finally agrees. Rob is ex-SWAT and has a Border Collie daemon. She doesn’t give her name, and instead growls at Brynn, who squeaks and hides in Felicity’s collar as an ermine. Rob doesn’t end up guarding Felicity’s body all that much, as she doesn’t leave the Queen mansion, where she’s safest from ARGUS, very often. Walter allows her to use one of the offices and the library so she can work on QC IT and coding projects at home. Unless she heads out into the city, Rob normally remains as a normal security guard for the house.
Diggle and Felicity become fast friends. Since Felicity works a lot from home now, staying in the mansion as Queen Consolidated might not be completely safe from government or mob ambushes, she ends up spending quite a bit of time with the bodyguard when Oliver ditches him mid-way through the day, and Diggle is forced to return to the Queen mansion in defeat, to wait for Oliver to come back.
Herra also picks up on the strange vibes from Oliver and Strelka. “I think it’s PTSD,” she whispers to Felicity and Brynn, as Diggle finishes up a phone call on the other side of the room with Walter, telling him that his step-son ran off once again. “Strelka has definitely got some kind of anxiety, which means Oliver does too. It wouldn’t surprise me if he’s depressed. Look up the human-daemon symptoms for mental health illnesses. You’ll see what I mean.”
“Stop gossiping,” Diggle orders her, when he spots them. Herra folds her ears back in apology. “You know we’ll get in trouble if we get caught spreading rumors about clients. Don’t pay any attention to her, Felicity. She loves the drama - has ever since the army. There was plenty of theatrics there.”
Felicity and Brynn ignore Diggle’s advice to ignore his daemon and instead lose the afternoon to researching the effects of depression, anxiety, and PTSD on humans and their daemons. And suddenly… Oliver and Strelka’s individual behaviors and interactions begin to make some sort of sense. Trauma can cause a human to isolate themself and retreat into their own head, and distance themself from their daemon in a sort of dissociative state. There have been cases of soldiers with post traumatic stress having daemons who are always on edge, while they seem indifferent. This is because the daemons instinctively try and protect their humans by sort of absorbing the damaged part of their soul that’s seen conflict, shifting the burden onto their own minds, so that their human is less affected by the trauma and can remain functional. Those same soldiers and their daemons, who have experienced active combat together, are less reliant on each other and have more independent personalities, as a result.
Oliver isn’t a soldier by any means, but it’s completely possible he’s suffering from some sort of PTSD.
“Hi,” Felicity greets Oliver nervously, a couple of days later in the morning, as she comes downstairs to get herself some coffee from the kitchen.
Oliver is peering into the fridge, searching for something to eat. He closes the door, his intense gaze zeroing in on her. He narrows his eyes and shifts into a more defensive position, observing carefully as Strelka, who is huddled near the breakfast bar in hare form, immediately hops forward towards Brynn, who crawls down Felicity’s arm to shift into, shockingly, a new form of a colt. Strelka uses the wall and her powerful hind legs to scramble up onto the young horse’s back, her small paws tangled in Brynn’s mane.
It’s because Strelka is in hare form that Felicity is cautious when approaching Oliver, because she now understands that it means he’s not doing so well mentally. “I was just going to make some coffee,” she says, making sure she’s speaking softly, as not to trigger him. “Do you want any?”
Shaking his head, Oliver slips sideways to take a seat at the breakfast bar. It’s a good strategic position where he can scan the rest of the room easily and keep an eye on Felicity as she begins working a french press.
“It’s early,” Oliver comments. His voice is rough and coarse. Felicity wonders whether or not that’s because he’s been screaming in his sleep from nightmares. Brynn overheard Orin, Tariel, and Loreu talking about Oliver’s night terrors yesterday. Strelka came close to attacking Moira and Walter while in a panicked, half-asleep state, when the two of them rushed into Oliver’s bedroom upon hearing his yells of terror, and startled him awake. “Do you always get up at this time?”
“I’m used to waking up around six am every morning,” she shrugs. “I had to get up at that time when I lived in my old apartment, to get to work on time. I might not have to go into QC anymore because I can work here, from home, but I still keep up the habit.” Fetching the sugar pot, she puts a teaspoon into her mug. “What about you? The old Oliver Queen wouldn’t usually wake up before noon.” He tilts his head. Felicity flushes. “Not that I knew the old Oliver Queen. And the old Oliver Queen meaning you before the island. Oh god. Um. Sorry. I told myself I wouldn’t bring it up.”
“Wouldn’t bring up the island?” he asks.
“Yes,” she mumbles, grabbing an apple and creamer for her coffee from the fridge.
Oliver seems to be paying full attention to her now. “Everybody else won’t stop asking me about it. Why don’t you?”
“Because we can see how much it bothers you to get those questions,” Brynn answers for her. He nickers gratefully when Felicity feeds him some apple slices after cutting it up. “Why would we ask them when we know it upsets you? You don’t owe us anything. In fact, we owe you, for saving us from ARGUS. You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to.”
“You already told us about how Strelka is Unsettled and Separated when we first met,” Felicity adds. “I appreciated you explaining that.”
“You rushed to the hospital and put yourselves at risk of losing your freedom to ARGUS to try and help us,” Strelka says, her whiskers twitching. She’s sitting up on her hind legs on Brynn’s back, cleaning her ears with her forepaws. “It was the least Oliver could do.”
Felicity shakes her head. “No, the least Oliver could do was come back home safe and alive for his family,” she corrects gently. “Brynn and I intended to help, but it was you two who ended up saving us, in the end. That means we’re indebted to you.” She pauses, then continues, “If you want to talk, Oliver, we’re perfectly willing and happy to listen and provide an unbiased ear. I know everybody is placing pressure on you to either open up and admit what happened, or start acting like your old self again… Brynn and I accept you for who you are right now. The whole Oliver-Strelka package, exactly as the two of you come. No expectations, no presumptions.”
Oliver stares at her, an unreadable expression on his face. Gradually, he begins to relax, the tension unwinding from his shoulders. The man from the hospital who’s stormy eyes had turned warm as he comforted her so tenderly seemed to have returned. A shy smile stretches his lips. “My mother told me that the reason Brynn is Unsettled is because Dust doesn’t affect you. I didn’t believe her before. I do now.”
Pouring creamer into her freshly made coffee, Felicity tests the strength with a small sip. “How come?” she asks curiously.
“Because the government and Catholic church believe that Dust only affects people with a sliver of darkness inside them - people who will give in to the temptation to sin,” Oliver says, striding across the room to lean on the counter beside her, so their sides are brushing. Hiding her astonishment that he’s touching her, Felicity sips at her coffee again. “You have a truthfully pure, light, uncorrupted soul. Not like others.” He glances away with a dark look, scoffing under his breath. “Certainly not like me.”
Frowning, Felicity peers over at his daemon. “But if Strelka is Unsettled, because you and she had the Dust removed from you, then doesn’t that mean that you have a light soul as well?”
“She Settled before our Dust was removed, remember?” Oliver reminds her. “Just because she’s Unsettled now, doesn’t mean our soul is pure. It’s still blackened. Probably even more so now, because of the island.” He gingerly takes the last apple slice that Felicity offered him, nibbling it slowly as if it’s a meal he needs to savor. “I feel like I should apologize. I haven’t properly spoken to you since the hospital, and considering we’re housemates now and both need to stick together given our daemons’ unique Unsettled natures… I should have made more of an effort to spend time with you.”
She bumps his shoulder companionably. “It’s okay. You’ve been busy doing other stuff. It makes perfect sense that you’d prioritize your family and old friends over a woman who’s basically a stranger to you.”
“You’re not a stranger.” Oliver motions his head over at their daemons, who have shifted into their cat forms and are now curled up together on the floor, purring as they groom each other. “Strelka has become very attached to Brynn. Since she’s part of me, that means that I’ve become close to him. And since he’s a part of you, that means I’ve connected to you.”
Felicity grins. “That’s a nice sentiment.”
Strelka stalks over as a puma, her tail waving wildly back and forth, and Brynn is slumped on her back in his smaller ocelot form. “You should join us for lunch today, if you’re not busy.”
Oliver shoots her a glare. “Strelka…”
“What? It’s not like you’ll be doing anything of note besides working out until you nearly faint and brooding in the Foundry.” She sits, causing Brynn to yelp as he slides down her spine onto the floor, cocking her head. “He needs to socialize, Felicity. He was a hermit on the island and he’s turning into a hermit here in Starling as well. He hasn’t got any real friends anymore so he needs new ones. You’re the best candidate for his new best friend because we genuinely like you.”
“I thought Tommy Merlyn was your best friend,” Felicity says in surprise.
“Tommy hasn’t spoken to me since I didn’t turn up at the homecoming party he threw me that I told him I didn’t want,” Oliver smiles bitterly.
“Laurel?”
Strelka snorts, her left ear flicking. “Laurel blames us for her sister’s death, despite the fact that Sara was on the Gambit because she was interning with Robert for QC, not because she was sleeping with Oliver, like the rumor she spread around. She also told Oliver she wished he’d suffered for longer than five years trapped on Lian Yu.”
“What a bitch,” Brynn growls, his mottled fur standing on end. “Her daemon is just as awful. Surly bastard.”
“Language, Brynn,” Felicity scolds him.
“You were thinking much worse,” her daemon sniffs. “Yes, we’ll join you for lunch, Strelka.”
She shakes her head in disbelief. “You’re making plans for me?”
“And you’re making plans for me?” Oliver folds his arms over his chest, glowering half-heartedly at his daemon.
“I have to,” Strelka replies. “Otherwise you’d never interact with another human being. You barely interact with me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how sometimes you pretend I don’t exist.”
Oliver stiffens visibly as the puma purrs and rubs up against his legs like the big overgrown cat she is. He looks so uncomfortable, Felicity wants to give him a hug. His daemon seems to know how uneasy her actions are making him, but doesn’t stop. It’s only when Brynn takes pity on Oliver and gets bodily between them, being careful not to touch him at all, that Strelka gives up, instead turning her attention onto the ocelot.
“I would like to go for lunch with you, if the offer is actually on the table,” Felicity says hesitantly. “I’m cooped up here in the mansion a lot, because I don’t have to go out often since I live and work here now. Also… Rob’s daemon doesn’t like Brynn. She’s mean to him. So can we please have Dig escort us instead of him?”
Oliver looks affronted on her and Brynn’s behalf. “I’ll have a word with my mother about Rob. Brynn shouldn’t be getting bullied by another daemon, especially not the daemon of your bodyguard. And yes, lunch is on the table. There’s a great burger place in the Glades we can go to. Dig’s sister-in-law is the manager and can get us a booth out of the way.”
“Big Belly Burger?” Felicity raises her eyebrows. “Oliver Queen likes Big Belly Burger?”
“I’ve only been once, by myself in the middle of the night, but I did enjoy it,” he admits.
“Why were you in the Glades alone in the middle of the night?” she asks, confused. Realizing the mistake he appears to have made, Oliver goes still, like a prey animal who’s just been spotted by a predator. Strelka makes a soft chortling sound under her breath. “You know what - it’s okay. Don’t answer that. I’m sure you had your reasons.” She drains the last dredges of her coffee and rinses the mug out in the sink. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go shower and try and finish my current coding project before lunch. I’ll meet you in the foyer around… 1pm?”
“I’ll be waiting,” Oliver confirms.
“I’m going with Brynn and Felicity,” Strelka tells him. “Your workouts are boring, anyway.”
Eyeing her suspiciously, he orders, “Don’t get into any trouble. And don’t annoy Felicity too much.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she responds smoothly.
Felicity waves goodbye to Oliver and for the rest of the morning, nurses only one more cup of coffee while typing code feverishly on her laptop in the library, lying on her front on one of the couches. The two daemons nap together on the cushions in their cat forms, content to curl up and bask in each other’s warmth. She’s so distracted by her project that Felicity doesn’t notice Moira and Tariel entering the room until Brynn emits a loud greeting purr, welcoming the Queen matriarch's lion daemon to their huddle.
“Moira! Good morning,” Felicity says, a little shocked that she’s here when she heard that Moira was heading to QC with Walter today.
“Is it true?” Moira says tearfully. “Are you and Oliver going out for lunch together?”
Felicity frowns. She can’t help but wonder how Moira found out. “Did Oliver tell you?”
“Thea shouted at him earlier that Oliver isn’t making any effort to re-acclimate into society and doesn’t have any friends anymore. He argued back for the first time since he’s returned, saying that you’re his friend and you’re having lunch together later. It’s true then? You invited Oliver out with you?”
“We are getting lunch together,” Felicity confirms.
“Technically I was the one to ask her out on his behalf,” Strelka says, lifting her head and blinking lazily in that way big cats often do. “Thea isn’t exactly wrong, Moira. He’s been isolating himself. Sometimes accidentally, but most of the time, on purpose. He prefers to be alone after the island, but he’s pushing his loved ones away without even realizing it.”
Moira raises her closed fist to her mouth, looking distressed. “He’s been struggling so much recently.”
“I know,” Strelka replies. “But Felicity helps, as hard as that is to believe. Oliver doesn’t know that yet - you didn’t even know,” she adds, glancing over at Felicity. “But you help ground him, make him feel more human. I can feel it. We may be Separated, but I still get hints of his emotions. Oliver puts on a facade of being calm and emotionless, but is actually almost always overwhelmed. You quiet the hurricane in his head.”
“I’m glad I help him feel better,” Felicity sighs.
“I wanted him to see a therapist,” Moira says, pacing back and forth. “But he refused and said he doesn’t need professional help. But he does. His doctor, he said - he said Oliver has PTSD. Twenty percent of his body is covered in scar tissue - Dr Lamb thinks he was repeatedly tortured. My poor, poor boy, he’s suffered so much, and he’s still suffering.”
Seeing how Moira is starting to cry, Felicity stands and takes her hand, squeezing them reassuringly. “He’ll be okay, Moira. We’ll make sure he’s alright,” she comforts her.
Oliver is waiting, resting against the doorframe, when the time comes around for them to meet in the foyer. He’s got that guarded, rigid look about him again which must be a result of the argument he had with his sister. Felicity notices that he’s rubbing his fingers against his thumb of his dominant hand, as if he’s instinctively searching for something to grasp. Strelka is prowling back and forth in wolf form agitatedly, growling under her breath, and that’s what makes Brynn hesitate to approach her.
“Everything okay?” she asks cautiously.
He doesn’t answer the question, and instead says tightly, “Diggle’s got the car running outside, we shouldn’t keep him waiting.”
The car journey is tense. Oliver stares out the window, lost in his thoughts with that blank expression on his face that tells Felicity he’s slipped back into a semi-dissociative PTSD state. She knows from her research that deep pressure therapy from his daemon would help bring him back to the present, but given how Oliver doesn’t like touching Strelka, that doesn’t seem like a good thing to suggest. Instead, she scoots sideways until she’s leaning heavily into his side, and makes quiet conversation with Diggle.
Brynn resumes his ocelot form while Strelka remains as a wolf as they head inside Big Belly Burger, Diggle immediately waving to a woman who is wiping the tables down. The daemons discussed in the car that they would try and stay in the same forms to avoid attracting attention. Diggle’s sister-in-law, Carly, leads them to a booth near the back, relatively out of sight, before taking their orders rather than making them go up to the counter. While Felicity gets a meal combo and a soda, Oliver just orders fries and water. His dark mood seems to have banished his hunger. Before Carly can walk off, she quickly adds on a side of onion rings, just in case Oliver decides he wants some later. Diggle sets up shop in the next booth down, his Doberman daemon hopping up onto the seat opposite him. Brynn curls up by Felicity’s side while Strelka sits hunched under the table, ears erect and head jerking back and forth vigilantly, as if watching out for any danger.
They sit in silence, Oliver clearly not wanting to talk, and Felicity wary about pushing him. It’s only when their drinks arrive that Oliver runs his hand through his hair, releasing a strained sigh. “I’m sorry. I’m not the best company at the moment. Thea and I had a fight and the adrenaline hasn’t left my system yet.”
Remembering a research paper that said PTSD patients often struggled with excess adrenalin, Felicity nods understandingly. “It’s alright. I don’t mind the quiet,” she says honestly.
“Thea does,” Oliver replies, his jaw wired shut so he essentially spits the sentence out. “Apparently Strelka and I have changed so much in five years that she doesn’t even recognize us anymore, which makes me an imposter pretending to be her brother.”
Felicity’s heart clenches with hurt for him. That was a cruel thing for Thea to say, she can’t deny that. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize on her behalf,” Oliver shakes his head. “She hasn’t been - what I mean to say is, she hasn’t said anything horrible to you, has she?”
“She’s been civil, when we’ve interacted,” Felicity tells him. “Which, I’ll admit, isn’t very often. She doesn’t seem comfortable around Brynn. Not many people are, when it comes to Unsettled adult daemons. She’s pleasant enough at dinner. Brynn likes Orin.”
“Her daemon wasn’t Settled, when we got onto the Gambit,” Strelka comments quietly, from beneath the table. “Orin was predicted to Settle as some kind of big cat, since Moira’s daemon is a lion, I was Settled as a puma, and Robert’s daemon was a lynx. Nobody expected a coyote.”
“Thea’s changed in the last five years just as much as you have,” Felicity offers.
Oliver exhales tensely. “She was a twelve year old with pigtail braids who loved playing princesses and knights in our old treehouse, the last time I saw her before the sinking.”
“You didn’t get to see her grow up, but she also didn’t get to see you mature,” Brynn says, flicking his tail over Felicity’s legs. “It’s the same with your family and friends. When you arrived back, they all had that last image of you stuck in their minds, of - and no offense meant by this - a reckless billionaire playboy. They expected Strelka to be the same playful puma she always was. That’s not who either of you are anymore, but it’s going to take a while for them to come to terms with that.”
“How long?” Oliver emits a frustrated, impatient sound.
“I don’t know,” Felicity responds truthfully, shrugging. “Hopefully not too long. Look, you’ve been trying to show everybody that you’re different, but they don’t seem to be catching on. Maybe you need to tell them. You said Tommy hasn’t spoken to you since you didn’t show up at the party he threw you. Did you give a reason for not attending?”
“I told him I didn’t want the party.”
“Did you explain why?” she asks softly.
“I shouldn’t have to,” he growls.
“No, you shouldn’t,” Brynn agrees. “But you and Tommy have been out of touch for half a decade, so your communication skills have dropped. The two of you might have used to be thick as thieves, but you’re both very different people now, with different preferences and opinions. Tommy’s not telepathic, and neither are you.” He tilts his head. “Are you?”
Oliver’s lips twitch, as if he’s fighting back a smile. “No.”
“So maybe explaining why you didn’t want the party - or now, didn’t attend - might help him understand how you’ve changed.”
“But he’ll ask questions about why,” Oliver says. “I don’t want to be asked questions about the island.”
“Then tell him that.”
Grimacing, Oliver fiddles with the straw in his water glass. “I would have thought it would be obvious. You’re the only person who’s seemed to pick up that I hate talking about it.”
“Not everybody is as good at reading body language as me,” Felicity replies.
“How are you so good at that?” Strelka questions.
Brynn cleans his paws daintily. “Years on the run from government agencies wanting to capture and experiment on you, and you learn to attune to your surroundings to avoid traps or tricks. People can’t be trusted. Body language is a good indicator of whether somebody is lying or not.” He glances up at Oliver. “Laurel’s bad news, by the way. She lies outrageously but she believes her lies, which is not a good sign. Probably for the best that she’s staying away from you. If she gets close again, run like a bat out of hell.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Oliver smirks.
Their food is served. Oliver, in a much better mood now, devours his fries and the side of onion rings Felicity ordered for him. They make small talk as they eat, Felicity telling him about the numerous coding projects QC has been getting her to complete lately, and Oliver informing Felicity of his plans to ask Tommy if he’d like to open a nightclub with him. He explains that he’d rather learn the behind the scenes mechanics of running a business like that rather than enjoy the club itself. Since he used to know that sort of scene well, and Tommy is well versed in it now, they’ll hopefully be able to make it quite successful. Interested, the blonde offers her help in setting up financial monitoring programs and spreadsheets to aid management - as well as setting up suitable Wifi and security.
They split the bill when Felicity insists on it; Oliver appeared shocked, as if nobody he’s ever been out with has ever offered to do that. As they make their way out of Big Belly Burger, Diggle and Herra leading the way back to the car in front of them, Brynn rides on Strelka’s back again. His tail is wrapped around the puma’s, which whisks back and forth as she pads along. A strange tingling feeling spreads through the blonde’s limbs as a result of this, and she feels close to Oliver, as if she’s touching him, even though they’re walking side by side with a good half a foot of space between them.
“I had a great time today,” Oliver says, scuffing his heels slightly on the ground as he looks down, as if hesitant to meet her eyes. “Thank you for coming out with me.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiles. “I’d love to do it again.”
“Me too.”
“Us as well!” Brynn pipes up.
Oliver chuckles under his breath, making Felicity grin, because she rarely sees him smile or hears him laugh. His blue eyes are twinkling and the stress lines on his face have smoothed over. Happiness is a good look on him. “Thank you for your advice, Felicity. I’ll take some of it to heart.”
“Some of it?” she raises an eyebrow.
“I’ll have to think for a while about whether or not I talk to Tommy.”
“That’s fair enough. I’m flattered you’re accepting my advice at all. Consider it a small payment to slowly work off my debt to you.” She sticks her hand out for him to shake. Oliver narrows his eyes at it warily but then, after a second, takes it. “Nice doing business with you, Mr Queen,” she jokes.
“Always a pleasure, Miss Smoak,” he responds with a smile.
Once they arrive back at the mansion, Felicity says goodbye to Oliver and their daemons also issue their own farewells, as she needs to return to work. Brynn returns to his human’s shoulder, coiled up as an ermine around her neck, while Strelka soars off as a black falcon to stretch her wings, as Oliver manages to slip Diggle’s watch once again to sneak off, much to the bodyguard’s annoyance (and Felicity’s amusement).
The next morning, Felicity is still half-sleep and has just put on her bra when she hears a knock on her bedroom door. Groaning, Brynn rolls over on the bed, sticking his furry head under the pillow and swearing violently about who could possibly be disturbing them at this hour, when the sun hasn’t even risen yet? Felicity yanks her pajama top back on, too tired to grab a proper t-shirt from her wardrobe, and stumbles over to the door, rubbing her sleep dust away.
“Oliver?” she mutters, blinking half-lidded eyes. He’s standing in front of her door with a nervous expression, a laptop case in his arms. He’s very blurry because she’s not wearing her glasses, but she can see he’s wearing the same clothes from yesterday as well, but there are noticeable bruises on his neck and a small cut on his lower lip. Did Oliver get into some sort of fight last night? She doubts he tripped or accidentally walked into something, given his highly vigilant senses. “It’s… it’s six am. What are you doing?”
“You said you usually wake up at six am,” he says.
“I don’t ‘wake up’ until I’ve had coffee,” she mumbles. Dropping her gaze down from his face to the laptop case, it takes a few seconds for Felicity to work out what he’s visiting her for. “You need tech help?”
“Please,” he nods. “I’ll - I’ll let you get dressed in peace. I’ll meet you down in the kitchen? I’ll have coffee waiting for you.”
She nods, yawning. “Sure, okay.”
It takes her five minutes to change into fresh clothes and tame her feral bed hair into a ponytail. It’s only thanks to Brynn that she remembers her glasses, shoving them onto her face carelessly. As he promised, Oliver has a cup of hot sugary coffee served for her when she enters the kitchen, Brynn dozing huddled into her collar as a goldfinch.
“Thank god,” she sighs, taking a gulp of the sweet caffeine, not even caring as it burns her tongue numb. Taking a seat at the breakfast bar next to Oliver, she glances around for his daemon. “Where’s Strelka?”
“Patrolling the Glades,” Oliver replies. Felicity frowns. Surely he means to say something else, because why would his daemon be patrolling an area of Starling City? “So you told me when we met that you have skills in the cybersecurity and computer science departments.”
“And then you translated and said I’m good at hacking. Yeah, I remember.”
“You said you’re decent at it,” Oliver says, looking at her sharply. “But that’s not true, is it? You’re the best of the best.”
She quirks an eyebrow and allows, “I’m pretty talented. Is that what you need? A hacking job?”
Oliver hesitates.
“I won’t ask tricky questions,” Felicity says. “I’m in your debt, remember? If you need me to something… mildly illegal, I’ll do it. As long as people won’t get hurt and no major damage is caused, I’m fine with a lot of things.”
“This will actually save lives, I hope,” Oliver tells her cryptically. Reaching into the laptop case, he withdraws a model that Felicity recognizes as one that’s top of the line and only been released onto the market recently. She’s struck with horror and disdain, however, when she sees how battered and utterly ruined the laptop is. “I need you to salvage whatever you can from the hard drive, please.”
He slides it across the marble countertop. Felicity takes it into her hands carefully and begins examining it. Rearing back in astonishment when she realizes what all the damage has been caused by, she asked, scandalized, “Are these bullet holes? What bad neighborhoods have you been hanging out in when you ditch Diggle, Oliver?”
“Only the ones with dangerous coffee shops,” he quips back. “So can you work with it? Or is it too far gone?”
“No, the motherboard and hard drive seem to still be intact,” she muses. “If you go upstairs to my bedroom and grab my personal laptop, the cables on my desk and a USB stick, I might be able to save the files.” Pausing, Felicity questions delicately, “I have to ask, is this your laptop, or… somebody else’s? Because if it’s not yours, I want to take every precaution against viruses and spyware that this might have installed to prevent tampering.”
Oliver gives her that keen look again, as if scrutinizing her to try and tell whether or not giving her that information would be wise. Before he can decide, however, Strelka swoops down through the open kitchen window, appearing out of nowhere. Brynn instantly perks up and flutters over to her, so he can use one of her giant black wings as a blanket. “It’s not his,” Strelka responds.
So it’s stolen then. But apparently has valuable information on it that Oliver wants. Well, at least he’s not lying to her and trying to convince her he spilled a latte on it or something. Felicity nods, cracking her knuckles. “Alright. Let’s get started then.”
And so it begins.