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It was surreal. Felicity, Diggle, Nyssa and Laurel came to a halt and stood on one side.Oliver, Lyla and some faceless members of the League of Assassins stood on the other. Just some mere few feet between them but it didn't matter. They could have been a mile away and the distance would have felt equally as mounting. An invisible line had been drawn between the two groups. One that no one could cross and Oliver was on the wrong side. But Felicity didn't see the line or the many members of the League, she didn't see Laurel's horrified expression, she didn't see anything but Oliver. Her eyes searched and found his familiar frame. She drank him in, ceased this moment for whatever it was worth and drew a staggering breath. It felt like heaven. It was as if she hadn't taken a breath since she left him without a goodbye, without a maybe. It didn't matter to her that they stood on opposite sides of the warehouse or that it was wrong, just wrong. It was only in this dark and cold place she could finally breathe again. And then finally Oliver met her eyes and her breath was once again stolen from her chest. Because it was Oliver and yet somehow it wasn't and the reality dawned on her. It felt like somebody had punched her deep in the gut, making her legs crumble beneath and her lungs struggle for air. A warm hand gripped her waist and strained to keep her upright. Diggle. It's always Diggle who catches me - she thought as a fleeting feeling of comfort soothed her aching heart. She tried to give him a reassuring smile but it slid right of her face as she wasn't looking at him or even turning her face towards him but was instead still staring at Oliver. But he had long ago broken their swift eye contact and was now standing stoic with his hands behind his back facing all of them but not really seeing any of them. Felicity leaned heavy on Diggle's arm as she steadied herself. Squeezing his hand quickly as she let it go in an attempt to reassure him that she was okay or at least able to stand up straight. His familiar voice echoed in the almost deserted warehouse.
“Search them,” it commanded.
Not even his voice sounded like it used to. It was hoarser and darker with something menacing behind it. It wasn't the same voice that had told her that he was in love with her. It wasn't the same voice that had whispered sweet nothings in her ear as they laid together in bed, clinging desperately to one another and it wasn't the same voice that had surrounded her as they made love, telling her how beautiful she was, how lucky he was and how he would never stop loving her. This voice did not belong to Oliver Queen. The man Felicity loved.
This was the real reason why Felicity could not break away from the group and cross the distance. She couldn't reach out for Oliver, not because she wouldn't be hindered at her first attempt at any movement, she would, but because she couldn't tell if he would reach out in unison with her. If he would welcome her embrace, her touch or if he would kill her where she stood. A part of her didn't care, couldn't care about the danger he now posed. He loved her and she loved him and that was worth the risk. Her hands gripped anxiously at her jacket's arms as she braced herself for what was to come. Maseo stepped forth, starting to pat down Diggle for any sorts of weapons. “Where is my wife?” Diggle shouted at Oliver with a horrified expression frozen on his face.
“Where is my wife?!” he now roared as Oliver slowly lifted his right hand and gestured for someone from the shadows to step forward. Lyla struggled against her restraints and her captor's grip as she was brought forth to Oliver's right side. She lifted her head defiantly against Oliver and gave him a look mixed with grief, anger and despair.
“You son of a bitch,” Diggle said with a rage barely controlled.
A twitch contorting his face. His body shaking as if he too suffered from the same restraints as his wife did. Oliver showed no emotions at this verbal attack. Not even a flinch or a look did he bestow upon Diggle's righteous rage. He stood unmoved, as if he was nailed to floor. His jaw was not clenched as it always was when he fought against his feelings. His eyes that always conveyed what he felt, even when he tried to feel nothing, were empty and cold. It was as if the blue in them had frozen to ice and the rest of him with it. The man standing before this group of heroes was no longer Oliver Queen. He was no longer the man they knew.
“Whatever Ra's did to you...” Diggle began but he was cut of as Felicity nailed Maseo to the floor with a look of pure hatred. Maseo's outstretched hand almost touching her small frame as he was trying to search her body.
“Don't you dare touch me,” she hissed at him.
Her emphasizing on the word dare made it clear to everybody in the warehouse that this was not a request and the threat this delicate woman posed was ever so real despite her not being a skilled fighter. Maseo withdrew the hand that had touched her arm ever so slightly and turned, looking for guidance in his leader, the heir to the demon, Al Sah-Him. Oliver or Al Sah-him, whoever he now was, closed his eyes and gave the slightest nod, humouring her without acknowledging her thinly veiled threat. Maseo left Felicity standing beside Laurel, untouched by his darkness. Just as Maseo reached Al Sah-him Felicity spoke once more, but this time she directed herself at the man she loved.
“Oliver, this isn't you,” she said fiercely.
Nobody of the onlookers were able to gauge any discernible reaction from Al Sah-him. He wasn't even looking at Felicity. It was as if nobody had spoken except the entire atmosphere in the room had changed since she first uttered his name aloud. His real name.
“Look at me,” she encouraged.
Felicity's voice came out a little strained on the last word as she gritted her teeth together to stop her voice from cracking. The tremble in her voice was not audible to anybody but those who knew her best and at this noise Al Sah-him's demeanour changed. He met her eyes once again but this time the eyes who met hers was not cold and foreign. It was Oliver's eyes that engulfed her from head to toe. Her Oliver. Felicity lurched forward, an immediate reaction to the guilt, the self loathing and the blinding love radiating from his eyes towards her. She wanted to hold him, to comfort him, to kiss him. She wanted him to comfort her in return, like he used to. Telling her that she was okay, that she was safe. Felicity remembered his words when he had saved her from The Count.
“It’s all right. You’re safe,” he had promised her as she reached out to touch his wounded arm with her hand. Trying to heal the wound that was the evidence of his love for her. At the same time as she had reached out to him he had reached out to her, his much larger hand grasping her cheek. Felicity turned into his hand because she knew he needed to make sure that she was all right. He needed to touch her, to feel her warmth against him. He needed to be able to breathe again. She knew this because that was the same reasons for why she needed to caress his arm.
He had once again comforted her after he saved her when their date got blown up and she was knocked out by the sheer force from the explosion. Oliver had carried her to the Foundry and laid her on the table where she had woken up, terrified and confused.
“Oliver!” she had cried out. Felicity's first thought being of him.
“You’re safe. You’re safe, I’m here.” The words ushering out as he fiercely gripped her hands, knowing that she needed to feel his warmth. It was almost the same words as when he had offered them to her when she had been crouching on a cold floor, caressing his wounded arm. But there was a fundamental change. She was safe because he was there. Because he was safe. Oliver Queen was the air that Felicity Smoak breathed and she needed him to live.
But this time it was different. Now Felicity needed his reassurance even more. The Count and The Date From Hell was nothing compared to this. The last times, she had been close to death - yes - they both had, but it was different. They had been together and if, if she would have died those times then she still wouldn't have to learn to live without Oliver. She couldn't live in a world without him in it. It was not possible. He was her whole heart. And now he was gone. She needed Oliver to be alive. Just to be alive even if they weren't together. Felicity needed Oliver to promise one more time that everything was fine. That she was safe and that he was there.
So she lurched forward, desperate for his soothing touch. And he turned once again to ice in front of her. She froze in place. It was as if they were reflections of each other. She reacted to every little movement he made. His gaze was no longer resting on her but had retreated to it's original place. Taking all of them in but not really seeing them. Al Sah-him's body was once again rigid and stoic. Felicity kept herself fixated on his dismissive eyes, staring him down like she used to, when she was the only one brave enough to challenge him. The voice coming from her was now stronger as she spoke for the third time without a verbal response.
“I know you're still in there somewhere,” she stated with confidence colouring her words.
Al Sah-him glanced over at her but averted his gaze just as fast. It was now focusing on Nyssa and Al Sah-him uttered words for the first time since Felicity had raised her voice. With yet another command he once again stole Felicity's breath.
“Bind her,” he calmly ordered his henchmen.
Diggle stood furious beside Nyssa with rage radiating from his entire body. To Laurel it felt like the anger seeped from his very soul and infected all of them. As she quickly glanced around it seemed like all of them was ready to fight. Both for Oliver and against Al Sah-him. Nyssa, who stood to her second left looked calm to everybody who didn't know her as well as Laurel because she could see the almost invisible twitch of Nyssa's neck, a clear sign that she was pissed of. Felicity, who stood to her immediate right, looked as fierce as only Felicity could. She always wore her heart on her sleeve and her emotions written all over her face and now her entire stance signalled that she was ready for the plan to be set in motion. She was ready to fight for Oliver. Laurel herself felt fury - sure - but she also felt terrified. A feeling she couldn't really afford in this situation but that was present none the less. She couldn't lose one more person and Nyssa was her last connection to Sara. How anybody could survive such losses and still be standing was beyond her. She was certainly not equipped for it. So Laurel was fighting for her life as much as she was fighting for Nyssa's since they were intricately entwined with one another’s. They couldn't lose this war. They wouldn't, Laurel decided within herself. She took a more rigid stance and stared at the enemies surrounding them.
The League members followed through with Al Sah-him's orders and bound Nyssa's hands. She didn't protest or make any kind of attempt to fight back. But the eye contact between her and Al Sah-him never broke. Nyssa's eyes were black with hatred and everyone in the warehouse did right in fearing her wrath. As she was led towards her destiny Al Sah-him turned his head towards Lyla's restrainer.
“You're free to go.” His voice never even wavering. As soon as her ropes were lose Lyla launched herself towards her husband.
“Johnny!” she cried out as she flung herself into his awaiting arms.
“It's okay, I'm here,” he murmured in her ear while he held her as close as he possibly could.
“I thought they were going for Sara,” Lyla whispered when she broke free from his embrace. A shiver running down her spine at the thought of someone hurting her daughter. John felt it and cupped her face with his hands.
“Everything's fine. Sara's fine,” he assured her quietly as he tried to catch her distraught eyes. He threw a quick glance over her head at their opponents before he hastily spoke;
“I told Felicity this is just like Jakarta.”
He conveyed the rest of the message with his eyes since he couldn't tell her anything more of fear of being overheard. Straightening from his crouched stance John moved his body into hers, still cupping her face with his right hand and gave her forehead a quick kiss that communicated everything he couldn't put in words. Lyla closed her eyes and breathed in his familiar scent. She gripped John's left hand and pressed it hard against hers before she took a breath, turned towards Felicity and let him go. Felicity greeted Lyla by throwing her arms around her and pulling her body close. But Felicity's limbs were heavy and stiff. Fear and grief making her clumsy. As Lyla searched after the concealed pistols' grips, that were snugly attached to Felicity's waist, she couldn't concentrate on the scene playing out behind her. However, Felicity had no choice but to watch since she was locked in this position until their plan was set in motion.
Nyssa stood before Al Sah-him with a member of the League on each side. Her hood was up and her hands were bound but there was nothing submissive about her. This was not the figure of a broken woman.
“Kneel before the true heir to the Demon,” Maseo commanded.
He stood by Al Sah-him's right side, his sword hanging dangerously close to his hand. In just a second, Maseo could easily dispose of Nyssa, unarmed and alone as she was. Nyssa however, didn't give Maseo's looming threat so much as a thought as she pursed her lips and almost lazily stated;
“I kneel before no one,” as her eyes bore into Al Sah-him's.
Before anyone of the League could react to this violent display of disdain and disrespect all hell broke loose. Lyla had found the concealed pistols and had just waited for the right moment. At the sound of Nyssa's defiant answer she pulled away from Felicity and spun on her heels before firing away at the League. Everyone rushed into action. Felicity jerked around and began to run towards cover. Nyssa yanked hard on her ropes, making her captors' lose their grips. She managed to use the element of surprise to her advantage and easily knocked out one of them. Diggle and Maseo was fighting with their swords cutting the air at an alarming speed. Two of the League members tried to go after Nyssa but Laurel intervene and took them both on. A shot was heard and then a body sagged to the floor as Lyla managed to kill one of them while another hit her square in the face.
She had run for cover. Felicity had indeed run as fast as she could but not near fast enough. The cool night air swept over her as she stood almost outside of the warehouse but between her and the night stood a member of the League. The sword he held was shining in the darkness. It looked thirsty for blood. Felicity tried her best to manoeuvre him. First launching her body to the right and then darting to the left - trying to trick him - was all she could do. But the voice in the back of her head knew that it was pointless. Almost before she was hit she knew it would hurt. A lot. Her body tried to keep her upright but the hilt of the sword had hit her almost directly in the stomach, leaving her gasping for air. With a thud she fell to the concrete floor, managing to catch herself in the last second before she would have knocked herself out. Quickly and without thinking she scrambled to her feet and ran back towards safety. She ran towards Oliver. Felicity's attacker followed suit but just before he stroke again an arrow flew through the air and pierced the arm that held the sword. Thea Queen stood on one of the old building construction platforms, high above the battle and firing of arrows. A spitting image of her brother. She fired again, this time aiming for the attacker's leg. At the sound of her attacker gasping in pain, Felicity came to an abrupt stop and swirled around. It was impossible for her to make out whoever it was that had shot the arrows. Who her saviour was. But she didn't stop to look around any longer, instead she turned around and sprinted even faster towards Oliver.
The battle was still in full swing. Lyla was almost wrestling with a League member when she was thrown hard to the floor. She quickly retaliated with a powerful kick to the knee and rose to slam an elbow into her opponent's jaw. Diggle was now fighting Al Sah-him instead of Maseo. They were both incredible fighters but Al Sah-him fought to draw blood and Diggle did not. Every few inches Al Sah-him gained on Diggle and it was clear that the fight was beginning to unravel. Nyssa and Laurel fought four members of the league together, including Maseo. Nyssa gave as good as she got but Laurel was taking a beating and fell down to her knees. In trying to protect Laurel from a vicious blow Nyssa stepped in front of her friend's bruised body a second to late and got struck down. Nyssa knew that the minute she fell was the minute her life was over.
“Nyssa!” Laurel wailed as she was pressed down by a foot in her back.
“Laurel,” Nyssa whispered as she was hauled from the floor by the League members. They took Nyssa by her arms and dragged her away despite her struggling against their grips. Maseo quickly assessed the scene. Laurel was crouching over her legs, struggling to keep them from giving out under her as she tried to push herself into a standing position. Lyla was just rammed into one of the building construction platforms and remained on the ground, knocked out. Felicity was rushing towards the group but she was on the other side, far from being able to make any kind of difference. With that Maseo left Al Sah-him to finish what he'd started.
Diggle's breathing was heavy and laboured as he swung his sword once again but this time he wasn't fast enough and Al Sah-him's sword cut him deep in the side. Sinking to his knees, groaning as he automatically clutched the wound and dropped his sword he couldn't defend himself and Al Sah-him kicked him hard in the stomach. From the pure force of the kick Diggle rolled away a few feet. Despite of the pain he looked up at Al Sah-him as he hovered above him. Diggle's own sword raised against him. He just stared at his opponent. The one person in the world that Diggle wouldn't hurt even if he had the chance to. This is was his brother who stood before him and he couldn't fight him any longer. It was as if the world had come to a standstill and nobody moved or made a sound. Until the sound of shoes hitting the concrete floor fast awoke them from their trance. Both men turned their heads and stared at the oncoming figure, seemingly forgetting about each other .
Felicity dashed towards them as fast as she could and her intention was clear.
“Oliver, don't!” she cried out.
Her voice echoing in the now almost empty warehouse. But this wasn't Oliver and Felicity's words held no power over the monster that wore his face. Al Sah-him raised the sword, ready to strike and Felicity took aim and pushed away from the floor. Just as the blade cut the air Felicity hurled her body in front of Diggle. The sword that was meant to pierce his heart struck Felicity straight through the stomach.
It was as if the world had been covered by a lid, muffling every sound around them. The only thing that she could hear was her own shallow breaths as she gasped for air. Blood gushed with an alarming velocity from the wound. It seeped through her clothes and began to form a puddle at her feet. The ground beneath her seemed to fall apart where she stood - swaying a little from side to side. As the blood fled from her body her legs caved and she collapsed onto the floor. Suddenly the world was no longer subdued and quiet, it was roaring around her. Thea screamed something inaudible, Laurel called for an ambulance and Diggle shouted instructions at someone out of view. Lyla was instantaneously behind her, pulling her flaccid body onto hers so that Felicity's back could lean against Lyla's chest. Diggle's gentle hands felt like fire against her wound as he quickly examined it.
“How-how bad is it?” Felicity faintly coughed. Asking but already knowing the answer. It was bad.
“Not too bad,” Diggle answered immediately but he never met her begging eyes. Instead he raised his gaze to Lyla and gave her a look that spoke louder than words. Laurel and Thea was now both beside Diggle. Laurel squeezed her hand while Thea was removing her clothes to use as a way to stop the blood flow.
“Felicity, we can't...” Diggle began but stopped as something outside of view moved. Felicity, whose head was turned towards Diggle, turned back to look at whatever it was that Diggle had seen and met blue eyes. Crouching, Oliver was beside her, his hand outstretched towards her, but not touching her.
“Felicity,” Oliver choked on her name. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. Every bit of colour from his face was drained and his entire body shook. Before Felicity had a chance to react Thea stood above her, aiming her taut bow at her brother.
“Get away from her,” She growled. It seemed like Oliver didn't even hear Thea's threat. He didn't move a muscle. Then Thea shot a warning arrow. It whizzed past his left ear.
“Get away from her or the next one goes in your eye.” Oliver lifted his gaze and regarded his sister but he still didn't move. Before Thea could make true on her promise Laurel called out.
“She let go of my hand. I don't think she's breathing!” she screamed. Diggle lunged forward and pressed his fingers against where Felicity's pulse should be beating. He felt it but it was weak and uneven. Her breath was almost gone and her eyes were shut from the world.
“NO!” he cried out.
“Lyla, put her down. We have to get that thing out of her now! We can't wait for the ambulance!”
“We can't!” Lyla protested.
“The sword is almost piercing her heart. She'll die if we don't remove it!” he shouted back at her.
“Yank it out then!” Laurel added.
“What the hell are we waiting for?!”
“No. If we pull it out, she'll... she'll die from the instant blood loss,” Diggle whispered. The realization of the meaning behind Lyla's protesting words made his voice weak and defeated.
“The sword is blocking most of the damage but as soon as we remove it, she's gone,” he croaked out.
“So what do we do?” Laurel asked quickly before the reality dawned on her. There was a prolonged silence when the truth hit all of them. Thea - still standing but with the bow dropped to the ground - was the only one brave enough to ask the question which they already knew the answer to, but it still needed to be said aloud.
“Nothing? We do nothing?” she whispered. But in the silence the words echoed and the sharp edges carved wounds into all of them. Nobody answered. Lyla stroked Felicity's hair as tears quietly fell from her cheeks. They mixed with the blood that now had transformed the once golden locks to dark and twisted clumps. Laurel's lips trembled as she took Felicity's hand and kissed it lightly. Thea didn't cry but she trembled where she stood, almost toppling over. At the exact moment that Diggle reached out for Felicity she opened her eyes once more. Felicity's world had changed during the time she was unconscious. The blood loss made focusing hard and she felt herself slipping away. She couldn't feel her legs or her arms anymore. Her own heart thumped weakly within her. She could almost feel it growing weaker by the second.
“J.. John, wha... I... please...” She wanted to say so much but she understood deep within that she didn't have much time.
“Don't try to speak. You'll waste your energy,” he answered her.
“I'm going to die,” she said. Ignoring his words.
“Right?” Diggle didn't answer her. Instead he focused on her eyes as his own became muddled by tears. He leaned forward and kissed her cold forehead.
“I love you,” he whispered to her as he stroked her cheek.
“I lo-love you too” she whispered back as her breath became even heavier.
“I-I'm glad.. you're... all...” Felicity tried to tell them all how much they meant to her but her voice gave in and all she could do was look at them. Trying to tell them everything that was still buried in her heart with her eyes. Her gaze first met Thea's and she gave her the biggest smile she could muster. Next was Laurel that smiled back at her trough the tears. Felicity couldn't meet Lyla's eyes since she still supported by her body but she felt Lyla's lips on her hair as she kissed her goodbye. It was getting harder to stay awake and everything was becoming blurry but Felicity knew she needed to say goodbye to Oliver. She needed to say goodbye to the love of her life. And when her gaze entwined with his the whole world became clear. She could hear his voice echoing in her head.
“Everything I've done, everything that happened has lead me right here. To this moment.”
The first time they met.
”Felicity Smoak? Hi, I’m Oliver Queen.”
”Of course! I know who you are.”
When they fought against Merlyn together.
”I want you out of here.”
”If you are not leaving, I’m not leaving.”
When she was drugged up and revealed more than she meant to.
“I'm just used to being your girl.”
“You will always be my girl, Felicity.”
When he revealed that he had seen her all this time.
”Then I walked into your office.You were the first person I could see as a person. There was just something about you.”
”Yeah, I was chewing on a pen.”
”It was red.”
When they made love in Nanda Parbat.
”Knowing you has changed my life. You opened up my heart in a way I didn't even know was possible. I love you.”
“Everything I've done, everything that happened has lead me right here. To this moment.”
Felicity slowly and heavily lifted her arm and reached for Oliver who sat in the same crouching position as he had before she went under. He immediately caught it between his hands and held it so lightly as if it would brake from the slightest pressure.
“Kiss me,” she whispered hoarsely. Oliver leaned forward as soon as the words left her and pressed his soft lips against hers. Tasting them one last time. Felicity smiled against his lips and mumbled;
“I love you.” His tears melted into their kiss, making it bittersweet.
“I love you too.” Oliver pulled back a little so she could breathe but stayed as close as he felt he could without hurting her.
“I need more time,” he began.
“I know that's selfish but I need more time. I'm not done yet. I haven't loved you yet. I can't lose you,” his voice broke on the last word.
“I know. I'm sorry too. But it's too late. All we have is now and now is almost over.” She swallowed.
“You need to let me go. I'm tired and it hurts... it hurts so much and you love me. So you need to let me go.”
“I know I should but... but I can't. Please don't leave me here alone. I need you. I love you,” he drew a ragged breath.
“I'm sorry. I'm so... so sorry. About everything. Please, please forgive me!” he begged. Even though he knew in his heart that he didn't deserve anything from her. She was always to good for him.
“Oliver, it's my life. My choice,” she answered with as much strength as she could muster.
“There was never anything to forgive.” Felicity didn't cry even now. If this was her last everything she wanted to be able to see it.
“Felicity,” Oliver breathed her name. At this she tried her best to grip his hand to pull him closer but it went still in his hand. He felt her life slipping through his fingers just like her hand slipped from his grasp.
“NO!” he gasped as he pulled her body into his. Covering her completely. Protecting her one last time. She drew one last breath as a tear escaped from its prison. It landed on Oliver's chest and slowly joined the once he had already cried for her. Only for her.
“Oliver,” she sighed. He drew back as he heard her voice one last time. His eyes found hers and in them he saw everything he had ever wanted. The last thing she saw before everything changed was a pair of blue eyes full of everything she had ever wanted.
When the paramedics came after ten minutes they found a heartbreaking scene. In a pool of blood laid a beautiful woman. Around her sat four people. One of them - a woman - still held her cold hand. Another woman was hunched over. Almost like she was trying to shield herself from the world. She cried in silence. The tears washing away the blood that was splattered on her face. The man that sat beside her had pulled his knees up and held onto them for dear life. He had buried his face into his lap as his body shook and trembled. Farthest from the lifeless woman sat the last woman with a bow beside her. She didn't cry or wail. She showed no emotions but her hands were crushing an arrowhead. The knuckles were white and was a stark contrast against the blood that was now seeping through her fingers and mixing with the blood on the floor. The paramedics moved to make themselves known but stopped in their tracks. There was a fifth person. They hadn't seen him because he laid beside the woman. He was resting her flaccid body against his, keeping her upper body from becoming stiff. His body was shaking as he wept for her but the hand that stroked her cheek was steady. They could see his lips moving as if he spoke but only for her. In the deafening silence they heard his whisper; it was red.