#ctrlaltblonde

Oliver can’t help but smile when he jogs through the back door of their house and sees Felicity standing in front of the stove. The smell from the burning pan assaults his nose, and he can’t tell what she was attempting to make but with the eggs out and the batter in the bowl on the counter, he can only assume it was pancakes. He came up behind her, arms slipping around her waist as he pressed a kiss to her cheek and one hand wedged itself between her and the stove to lower the heat on the burner. 

“Another valiant effort, Ms. Smoak---”

He was being watched by A.R.G.U.S men at all times, he knew that. They were good at their jobs so no one at his new school would know. Felicity was busting tables at a diner close to their apartment. They spent most nights playing videos games on the couch and laughing at how Oliver would be chastising Felicity for keeping his son up late. Anything to keep a light air through the house. 

He was cycling home when it happened. Out of no where, two matt black vans pulled into the middle of the road, blocking his way out. He looked around him, turning his bike quickly and riding off the side only to be knocked off the bike by a guy in a mask. He skidded to the floor, his bike running into the nearest wall. His lip instantly split open and his head had hit the ground hard. His world went black. 

When he woke he was tied to a chair in the middle of a dark room. He looked to his right, a blonde, out-cold on a chair, tied up like he. He pulled at his binds, his head throbbing.  “Fliss? Felicity?” The next word came out of his mouth with ease. He knew that Felicity was aware she could never replace his mom, but it was easy to see her as one. “Mom, wake up!”