#ohfat

“Morning 4587, breakfast time.” The guard opened the cell door. Oliver shuffled to the mess hall. He did his best not to make eye contact but he heard the catcalls from the other cells.

He got in line, took his tray of state paid for food, sat at the end of a table alone. Maybe it would have been smart to make friends in here but nobody was willing to be friends with the Green Arrow.

Oliver looked up when he felt the table shake as someone put their tray down across from him. It was Cooper Seldon. If there was someone who could tempt him into a fight it was this guy. He hurt Felicity.

“Oliver Queen, how the mighty fall. Felicity sure knows how to pick them. I’m sure we have a lot to talk about. She always was a whiny bitch. Wanting to do good...seems she got over that. What did you have to do to turn her to the dark side?”

“Go away,” Oliver growled. He really didn’t want to get sent back to the solitary confinement, especially not for someone as useless as Seldon.

But Seldon kept talking. “Oh, am I bothering you? Too bad. You have no power here. Besides, I was just reminiscing. Perhaps we could trade some stories. I can let you know what Felicity liked in bed…”

It took but a moment, the food trays were gone, the table overturned. Oliver pinned Seldon to the wall. The other prisoners cheered at the idea of a fight.

Oliver held him up against the wall by his prison shirt. “She is my WIFE. You do not get to speak that way about her. Your past actions against her are reason enough for me to kill you while you sleep. You dare to taunt me? Maybe I should crack your neck right now?”

Seldon seemed to be realizing he may have overstepped, sweat began pouring down his face. “Look, I was just trying to friendly. We both know Felicity. Common interest, you know? You didn’t need to get all bent out of shape.”

“You have no idea who you are dealing with. I’m not bent out of shape but if you ever so much as speak my wife’s name again, I will bend you until you break.” Oliver slammed him against the wall again. “Do you understand?”

Seldon began to nod as the prison guards arrived “4587 hands behind your head!”

*****

Oliver lay on the bed in his cell. He knew he was lucky not to get sent to solitary. But no blood had been drawn, that seemed to be the deciding factor. He should not have let Seldon get under his skin.

Felicity might be mad at him but she loved him. She chose him. Seldon was irrelevant. He tried to think what she might say in this situation. He frequently thought of what Felicity would recommend. She was so much smarter than him. Oliver knew he didn’t always get it right but he was trying.

He also knew his wife wasn’t perfect. He chuckled to himself. Given how to feels about Seldon now she might not be against Oliver pinning him to a wall to protect her honour.

“Prison 4587, Warden wants to see you.” Oliver rose from his bed as the heavy clank of the cell door opening echoed through the cell block.

Oliver had yet to meet the Warden, so he had no idea what he was walking into. He suspected it wouldn’t be good.

Oliver shuffled down two long corridors, down one set of stairs, both his hands and feet cuffed, they made it to their destination. The warden’s office was a small room, it kind of reminded Oliver of a principal’s office. The guard told him to stand in front of the desk and wait.

Oliver stood for a few minutes before he heard the clicking of high heels. He stood facing the desk as he had been told.  He didn’t get to see the woman’s face for a moment. But she always did know how to make an entrance. Amanda Waller.

Oliver was shocked. “I thought you were dead.”

Waller grinned. “Rumors of my demise were greatly exaggerated.”

“You were shot in the head. That generally does the trick. How? I mean how did you survive? You’re the warden?” Oliver was flabbergasted.

“Of course, I’m not the warden.” She said with disgust. “How I survived, I am not at liberty to say. What I am here to discuss is you Mr. Queen. Such a valuable asset locked up due to the incompetence of Samanda Watson. That woman really has no clue.”

Oliver nodded. He really didn’t know what to do. He was still shocked Waller was standing before him but then she always did have a habit of showing up. “What do you want, Amanda?”

“What I want is world peace and a vacation. We know both of those things are highly unlikely in my case. I’m working on a plan to get you out of here. Your city needs you. I will be in contact with your people as I understand your city is in trouble and not just due to this Diaz character. Really, Oliver, I can’t believe you didn’t take him down.” Waller narrowed her eyes at him.

Oliver shrugged. If he was being honest with himself, he couldn’t believe it either. “So what do you want me to do?”

“Stay alive. No more petty fights. Be the bigger person. Ignore these..” Waller waved her hand. “These criminals, you are better than them. Act like it.”

“So you are going to get me out? You know about the deal Watson had me sign?” Oliver tried to keep the hope out his voice.

“Oliver, that document has already been destroyed. Your city needs you. Star City has a tendency to attract the world’s worst criminals, something about their shoddy police force. Anyway, I don’t have time to deal with Star City’s problems, I’m a busy woman. I need you to handle them. I don’t know what Watson was thinking. We saw what happened to Starling when Ras killed you, why would she want a repeat? Amateur. I will be in touch.” Waller began to walk away.

“Wait. Does Lyla know? I mean, does she know that you are alive?”

Waller raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?” Then walked away.

*****

Knowing that Waller was working to get him out of prison gave Oliver knew motivation to stay out of trouble. For the next weeks, he was able to keep ignoring the taunts, jeers and pushing from other inmates.

He couldn’t lie knowing that Waller recognized that Star City needed the Arrow was quite the boost to his confidence. He had survived worse than prison, he would survive this, as it meant getting back to Felicity and William.

Oliver was lucky his shower time was later when there were fewer people around. He could handle one or two inmates but if a group decided to gang up on him things could get messy. Waller did not like messy.

He stood in the shower letting the cold water run over him. Oliver missed his family and friends. He was reflecting on happier times when he felt the air move behind him. Felicity always said he had ninja skills, he turned around to block his attacker, of course, it was Seldon.

Oliver continued to block his punches as he moved out of the shower stall. “Didn’t you agree to leave me alone? I’m three times the man you are! Do you want to feel pain?”

Seldon continued to attack Oliver. “You don’t deserve her, you know. She’s mine.”

Clearly, Seldon was delusional. “Seldon, go away!” Oliver really didn’t want to break his word to Waller.

“No! You think you are better than me?” He sneered.

Oliver knew there was no choice but to end this. Where were the guards when you needed them. With one swift kick, he put Seldon through a brick barrier knocking him unconscious.

Of course, this is when the guards rushed in. “Prisoner 4587 on the ground now! Hands behind your head!”

*****

Felicity never missed Oliver more than now knowing Diaz might come for their son. Sure she was mad as hell at him but protecting William alone was hard.

Luckily, she and William agreed to be a team. William was a good kid, never causing her an undue worry. They created ways to let the other know there was trouble.

Digg moved them to a gated community in the midwest. The house was like a large cottage with a wooded area behind. The people in town were friendly but Felicity mainly stayed out of their way.

For the first few months, they spent their time grieving the loss of Oliver, watching Netflix and eating pizza. School started again, William began making friends so Felicity was on her own more. She missed her husband. She missed the team and her job. Basically, she missed her life.

She broke protocol, contacting Digg.

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: Help

John,

I need to help you. My son has returned to school and I’m left with nothing but time. I want to help. All I have is a tablet but I can make that work...unless you want to throw in a computer. I want to come home.

Please approve for my mental health

Miss you lots and lots

F.

She created a new email account just for the email. She so hoped the ARGUS server would let it through.

To: [email protected]

Fr: [email protected]

Subject: Re: Help

I miss you too. You can help. Put up some protection and stay in contact. Let me know if you find anything useful. No computer.

John

Squee!! Felicity quickly got to work putting some feelers out.

*****

A few weeks went by, she was feeling like a failure. How did a thug like Diaz manage to hide so well?

She was putting away groceries when she heard the knock on her door. William was at a friend’s place. She wasn’t expecting anyone. She slowly made her way to the door.

“It’s John,” John called out as he knocked.

She swung open the door, falling into his arms. “John, it’s so good to see you! I wasn’t expecting…” She turned to see the woman walking in behind him. “Amanda Waller, nice to see you too. I hope.”

Waller’s eyes narrowed, “Ms. Smoak, you don’t seem surprised to see me alive.”

“Let’s just say, I never really believed you were gone.” Felicity withdrew from John’s hug, turning to Waller. “What are you doing here? Did you catch Diaz?”

“No, Diaz has proven elusive for reasons I’ll never understand.” Waller looked at Felicity and Diggle cooly. “But Diaz is just one of many problems facing Star City without the Arrow. I’ve come to tell you, I’m bringing him back.”

“You’re going to get my husband out of prison?” Felicity smiled for the first time in months. Oliver was coming home.

“Yes, Watson was wrong to make that deal. She will be punished accordingly. Oliver is far more useful to me as the Green Arrow. It was either that or sending in a drone strike.” Waller quirked her lips.

“Does Oliver know?” Diggle couldn’t help asking.

“Yes, for now, it’s just the paperwork to settle. As long as he stays out of trouble he’ll be out shortly. I hope that his team will be ready to act about his release.” Waller smiled.

“We are ready to act but there is one problem, this anti-vigilante law. Or have you fixed that too?” Felicity looked at Waller wondering if this was where she slipped up.

“The law is currently being repealed. Star City needs the Green Arrow and the Green Arrow it shall have.”

*****

Oliver’s release was delayed according to John, no details as to why. Still, he was coming home, that was all that mattered.

Felicity put off telling William in case the release fell through but she knew now she had to tell him. She was bursting with happy.

She pulled into their cottage thinking William should be home from school by now. She knew something was wrong the moment she got to the front door, it was ajar. She hesitantly pushed it open to see toppled chairs, books and magazines. Clearly, there had been a struggle. She also saw the green cloth William had thrown - forest. William was in the forest!

She ran out back looking for the ARGUS agents that protected their home. Sadly, they were both dead, bullet holes to the head.

She called the emergency number she for Digg as she ran towards the woods, she had to save William.

“Felicity?” Diggle answered immediately.

“Diaz! Diaz is here. He has William! I’m heading for the woods. The agents are dead!” Felicity was out of breath as she was running and talking at the same time.

“Felicity! Wait! Don’t go in the woods. Wait for backup. That’s an order.” Diggle spoke sternly.

“I don’t take orders from you. I’m going to save my son. Send backup.” Felicity hung up so she could focus on finding William. She ran to the clearing where they agreed to meet if something happened.

She skidded to a halt still disguised by the bushes, Diaz had a gun pointed at William. Felicity didn’t think. She began to run again. “Don’t you dare hurt my son!”

She ran at Diaz tackling him, sending them both to the ground, Diaz lost his grip on his gun. Diaz flipped them over, wrapping his fingers around her throat. “I planned on killing Oliver’s son but his wife will also work.” He sneered.

Felicity tried to push him off but his grip was getting tighter. She was starting to lose consciousness when she heard the gunshot. The next thing she knew Diaz was gone.

Felicity struggled to get up, William rushed forward to help her, gun still in hand. “William, baby, did you shoot Diaz?”

William nodded, he dropped the gun, fell into Felicity’s arms and began to cry.

Felicity soothed him rubbing his back, pressing kisses to his face. “It’s okay. You did the right thing. You saved my life. Your dad would be so proud of you.”

William pulled back to look at Felicity’s face.“But I didn’t kill him. I just shot him in the arm and he ran away. Are you sure you are okay?”

“Yeah, baby.” Felicity held William as he cried. A little while later she heard the backup arrive.

*****

Oliver spent the next three weeks in solidarity. There was a lot of time to think about how he screwed up. But no matter what way he looked at it, he had to defend himself from Seldon. He could only hope he still was a chance he’d be released.

“Times up 4587!” The guard shouted at him waking him up.

Oliver wanted to ask what the guard meant but he knew he’d get no answer. The guard led him out of his temporary cell, down a dark hallway with a flickering overhead light.

As they kept walking it became clear that they were not headed back to Oliver’s original cell block.  Soon it became clear that he was being led back to the Warden’s office. He shuffled in the room to see Waller behind the desk.

“Mr. Queen, I thought I told you to avoid trouble.” Waller pursed her lips.

Oliver shrugged his shoulders. “I really did try. It was self-defence.” He hoped Waller would believe him.

“You put a man through a brick wall,” Waller said gravely. “I saw the video, you had no choice.”

Oliver was stunned. “Video? I was in the shower.”

“I know.” Waller gave him a smile letting him know she saw it all. “Your little stunt has left Star City more vulnerable than ever. Ms. Smoak has returned to help your team after she and your son were attacked at the safe house. They have leads but need you to take down Diaz. I STILL can’t figure out why he’s so hard to handle. Let me know if you need a drone strike to deal with this.”

“So, I’m getting out? Don’t tease me, Waller.” Oliver really couldn’t wait anymore especially know that he knew Diaz attacked his family.

Waller nodded to the guard. They came in, removed his cuffs. “Your personal effects are in the bathroom, get changed. I believe Ms. Smoak and Mr. Diggle are here to retrieve you. Oliver, your city needs the Green Arrow. You have unfinished business there so don’t even think of retiring.”

Oliver rushed to the washroom to change as quickly as possible. His clothes were a little looser than when he arrived and there were still bruises on his face but he was ready. He left the prison uniform on the floor.

*****

Oliver followed Waller down the hall at a normal pace. So nice to walk without shackles.

Waller stopped in front of a closed door. “This is where I leave you. Handle Diaz and whatever comes your way.” She turned her back, walked away.

Oliver opened the door to find Felicity and Diggle on the other side. Felicity rushed forward, throwing herself into his arms. She began to cry. He could hear her murmuring “You’re coming home, you’re coming home.”

When Felicity finally pulled back a little he cupped her face, gave her a gentle kiss. “You have no idea how much I missed you.”

He kept his arms around his wife, nodded to John. “So good to see you again.”

Oliver looked down at Felicity. “Come on let’s go home. I hear we have a city to save.”

As they walked out of the prison, Oliver shook his head. “I still can’t believe Wallers alive.”

“I know! You think Lyla would have mentioned it.” John shook his head.

“I can’t believe you both didn’t know!” Felicity chuckled.

Oliver’s eyes widened. “You knew?”

“Not officially, but let’s just say I wasn’t surprised.” Felicity smiled at her men. “Come on as Waller told us we have unfinished business to address! Oh and Oliver don’t think I didn’t hear about that shower fight, I need details, lots of details.”

Thanks so much for reading!

TAGS:

She needs to get him fed. She needs to get him home. She needs to keep him safe. The routine isn’t that far out of the ordinary, but she’s hyper-aware that it’s just the two of them now. This could be their new normal, something that lasts for weeks or months or years, she realizes, and her heart breaks all over again for the boy beside her -- who lost the mother he's had all his life and the father he just got to know, one after the other. Now all he has is her.

Amid the storm inside, the revelation hits Felicity like a bolt of summer lightning, cracking wide and bright across the black, and illuminating something she's not sure she's ready to see.

She's a mother now. She had been before, in a sense, had warily made her peace with the “fun stepmom” role and found herself enjoying it more than she ever thought she could. She adores spending time with William, loves the family she and Oliver have made with a heart-rending ferocity and cherished every moment, despite how it all came together.

But this is something else entirely.

Now, she’s essentially a single parent, and there are so many terrifying added levels stacking up on that reality. She's someone else's whole world, and it doesn't matter that she didn't plan this, didn't even have time to strategize the adjustment. It doesn't matter that she never dreamt of this life as a girl -- or since -- never played “Mommy” to a doll with wide, unmoving eyes and floral-scented hair. None of that matters now. William is what matters.

Felicity thinks of her own mother, and then she thinks of strawberry ice cream.

She remembers knowing immediately that something was off that day, when her mother offered her ice cream right after school. It was the good stuff, too -- Häagen-Dazs, not the syrupy block of ice from the drug store case. Donna had plied her with a giant bowl of strawberry, her favorite, when she decided to break the news, and it took Felicity years to realize that it was probably to slow the inevitable deluge of questions about why her father had left, and when he was coming back. It was a way for Donna to keep her daughter from realizing how few answers she had to offer.

To this day, strawberry ice cream still makes her a little nauseous. Mint chocolate chip, on the other hand, has never reminded her of watching her mother’s mascara smudge off onto a pile of crumpled Kleenex.

She finds herself oddly comforted when she’s ordering takeout for them later and remembers there's a pint in the freezer -- but the feeling is quickly sunk by the memory of how Oliver had kissed her sweetly when she pulled it out of the grocery bag last week, shrugging his shoulders as she half-heartedly scolded him about sticking to the list.

“I want you to have everything you need,” he had whispered against her lips, “and everything you want.”

The food comes to the door eventually, and Felicity hopes William doesn’t see the way she jumps when the delivery woman knocks. It’s from one of their favorite places, but she barely tastes a thing as the two of them drift into half-consciousness in front of a Netflix show that pauses every few episodes to make them come to terms with their own humanity, in the form of an on-screen prompt that reads more and more condescending every time it asks if they’re still watching.

She gets up for more wine at one point, and realizes she should clear the dishes. That’s something a mother would do. It’s a battle against her ugliest instincts, a war against the way her broken heart is begging her to wallow in Oliver's absence, to sink into the couch and never stand up, to run as fast as she can away from the black hole of hurt that’s threatening to consume everything she loves about this life. But she doesn’t have that option anymore.

“We’ll get him back,” she offers, voice only cracking a little, when she realizes William’s watching her instead of the screen. They've had some version of this conversation before, but she doesn't know how else to reassure him. “I’m not sure how, yet. But he always comes back.”

The boy doesn’t offer a response at first, just leans forward on the sofa to silently help her stack up the plastic and foam containers and shakes his head in response when she asks if he wants any dessert. When she returns from the kitchen, though, he has a question that pulls the rug from under her.

“Is this the worst it’s ever been?”

“No.” Felicity answers on pure, base instinct, as her forehead burns with a flashback to a kiss that came with a declaration and her fingers twitch at the sense memory of the mottled patch of scar tissue just under Oliver’s rib cage. But then she considers. “Maybe.”

Looking into his son’s worried eyes, she knows that there are things more tragic than death. Especially for Oliver. “This will probably be the worst time for him.”

“Because of me.” Felicity forgets sometimes, because he’s so quiet, just how insightful William can be. She makes herself promise, in that moment, never to hurt him with an obvious lie.

Instead she just gives him a watery nod. “Because of how much he loves you.”

“And you too.”

“Yeah, and me too.” This time around, at least she’s sure of that much.

She thinks back to the moments that William is asking about without knowing -- all the times Oliver has died, or come within a breath, all the times he’s run, every tiny tragedy that forced him to sell his soul or sacrifice his humanity. They were selfless actions, ultimately, but that hadn't stopped the pieces of Felicity's heart from chipping away every time. Each hurt is a little different, she’s learned, warped in a way that makes it impossible to fully anticipate.

“Your dad has always been someone who would do anything for his family,” she finds herself repeating softly, flashing back again to the old bunker and the weathered longing of the girl she had been then. “I just wish you two had more time, before....”

Her voice is so close to cracking, and she doesn't want William to hear it, so she leaves the end of the sentence where it lies and reaches behind her on the couch for a blanket. But she freezes with the folded fleece in her hand when he speaks again.

“If you believe the team can get him back, then so do I.” They can still have that time, he's trying to tell her. There's still a future where Oliver gets the chance to be the father he was trying so hard to become, where he gets the family he's been longing for. They just have to find their way there.

It's a cautious but optimistic kind of faith that William has, endearing and trusting, and Felicity wonders where it comes from. Maybe it’s his mother’s, maybe it’s an echo of the pre-Gambit Oliver she never had a chance to know. That he’s willing to place that faith in her, however, she knows where that comes from just as surely as the blue in his eyes.

“I do believe it,” she tells him, tasting the words in her mouth and realizing that's they're true. “And I believe in your dad.”

“Me too.” He lays back across his end of the couch then, and pulls his legs up parallel to hers, sharing the blanket when she offers it. A few episodes later, his eyes are closed and the light, steady sound of his breathing echoes around her when the Netflix screen goes to black again.

Felicity stands after a long moment, and takes in the sight of Oliver’s son, sleeping on the couch, as a pang of domestic nostalgia plunges through her chest. He’s surely exhausted, but he looks peaceful in a way she knows is impossible, and her eyes offer up a fresh round of tears when she realizes that, if Oliver were here, he could carry him to bed. Without his strength, her options are limited to either leaving William to sleep on the couch or waking him and having to watch the day’s events wash over him again. There's not really a choice to make.

She tucks the blanket up a little higher, pressing a kiss to his forehead and switching off the TV and the nearby lights before climbing the stairs to her own room, where another heartbreak awaits.

Felicity slept alone for years before Oliver, but since they've been together, something inside her has shifted. The prospect of getting into a bed that doesn’t have him in it feels crushingly, hopelessly lonely in a way it never used to. But she's bone-tired too, so she washes her face and changes into one of his old hoodies, wrapping herself in the scent of his soap and favorite fabric softener, before curling around his pillow and crying herself into a fitful slumber.

It doesn’t last long. She drifts in and out for a while before she accepts that she's just too anxious to get any real rest. Instead, she lays there and thinks about what lies ahead. She wonders how long Oliver will be gone this time, how much he'll miss. She worries about his safety and agonizes over the likelihood that the person who will hurt him the most while he's locked up is already in that one-man cell with him. She considers how grateful she is that Thea wasn't here to watch her brother get dragged away again, even though Felicity selfishly longs for the support. And she thinks about the boy downstairs, who is now looking to her as his only parent.

Before she realizes it, she’s spent a few hours working herself into something of a frenzy. But even then, she has to wait a little longer until it's a semi-reasonable hour to make a phone call.

There's at least a half dozen well-thought-out questions on the tip of her tongue as she dials the number, but the second Felicity hears her mother’s voice, there’s only one thing she can think to ask.

“How did you do it?”

She sounds like a stranger to her own ears, but thankfully, Donna is with her immediately. “Felicity? What’s wrong?”

The tears start to fall immediately. Maybe they never stopped.

“How did you do it, mom? When dad left, how did you…” The words catch in her throat on an emotional trip wire that leaves her sputtering.

“Hon, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

“Oliver’s… Oliver has to go away for a while. You might see something on the news.” Her mother’s not one to spend much time on the internet, but Felicity cringes at the thought of Donna flipping channels and coming across Oliver’s perp walk.

“Oh baby,” her mother croons mournfully, “I'm so sorry.”

“Yeah. Me too.” Felicity feels a panicked stutter in her chest, and tries to will her heart rate down with deep, shuddering breaths. “I just… I’m so worried. For him, and for William.”

All her calming techniques are for naught, though, because there are tears in Donna’s voice now, and it's a contagious kind of thing. “That poor, sweet boy. How is he taking it?”

“He's as good as can be expected, I guess. But mom, I can't… I don't know how to do this by myself. Parenting, and everything. I’ve never done it without Oliver.”

“Well, you love him, right?”

“Yeah, of course,” she answers dumbly. “He's my husband.” It's as simple as that, or at least it should be. She’s loved Oliver since before she even knew what it was, and she plans to love him forever; she should be able to do this for him without a second thought.

But her mother interrupts her train of guilty, weighted thought before she can take it over the cliff. “Not Oliver, hon. William.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yes, of course.” It's the truth, and Felicity knows it, even if the veracity of it surprises her a little. Just a year ago, she had been shell-shocked at the boy's mere existence, and now he has his very own compartment in her heart. “Of course I do.”

“Then that's where you start,” Donna tells her, matter of fact. “Kids need a lot. But that's what they need the most.”

She wonders if her mother's always been this wise, or if this is just something that kicks in when your kid needs you. She wonders if that's something she'll find out on her own.

“I don't want to ruin his life. I don’t want him to think I’m trying to be his mom.”

“Oh, baby, you won't ruin his life.” Donna sounds so certain, still, and it might be silly but it helps. “You do your best for that boy and he'll be better for it. I'm sure of that. Hard times can make good people strong. Remember what Bubbe used to say about diamonds?”

Felicity makes a soft sound of acknowledgement, though she's fairly certain the metaphor was not unique to her grandmother.

“I hate that's it's true, but you're a shining example of that, my darling girl,” her mother says, with a different kind of ache in her voice. “And, for that matter, so is Oliver. I'd say William's got a pretty good shot.”

The words temper things a bit, but the mention of her own formative fatherless years stokes another kind of worry.

“Mom, you might start hearing some things about Oliver as all of this plays out. I want you to know, he…”

“Honey, I know everything I need to know,” Donna interrupts, waving her off with a casual tone. “That husband of yours is a good man with a good heart, and I knew it the first time I met him -- just like I know that it would take death or the devil himself to drag him away from you.”

If only her mother knew how many times they've actually contended with those threats exactly, Felicity thinks. Still, something in Donna's assessment soothes the feral bit of panic that's made itself a home in her gut until it feels almost manageable. “Thanks, mom.”

“As for William,” her mother adds, “you don’t have to love him like he’s yours, you know. You just have to love him.”

They say their goodbyes with a promise to talk soon, and Felicity pulls herself out of bed to make her way downstairs and start the first day of whatever this is going to be. William’s already up, standing on his tiptoes at the counter, dunking slices of bread into a large mixing bowl.

She stands for a moment on the stairs, watching him, and then suddenly, she's transported back to the tiny kitchen at her mother’s apartment in Vegas. She sees herself, boiling water for Kraft macaroni and cheese, tiny glasses fogging up because she's just barely taller than the saucepan on the stovetop. To this day, there's still a silvery patch of skin on the back of her wrist, from the handful of times she had overshot the colander with the steaming pot of boiling pasta.

But that won't happen to William. That kind of latchkey loneliness won't ever be his life. She will not fall to pieces in his father's absence and, mercifully, they have the resources to ensure that he won't have to fend for himself until he's good and ready.

Felicity gives her head a definitive shake, banishing the memory to the recesses of her mind, and continues down the stairs.

“Morning,” William says, with only a half glance up. She wonders if he knew she was standing there, watching.

“Morning,” she answers, then clears her throat, because that's a stranger's voice.  “French Toast?”

“Dad showed me how the other week.” He looks down at the open notepad again -- Oliver’s makeship recipe book, Felicity realizes -- and scrunches his nose up as he reads the longhand scribbles on the page.

That's another mannerism that must come from Samantha, Felicity thinks. She wishes there were a way to save these things for him to recall later -- when the wounds aren't so fresh. She hopes he'll be able to see his mother in himself as he gets older, to savor the memories of a woman she never got a chance to know.

“Is...is that okay?” 

Felicity looks up and sees William with an egg-soaked slice of bread in hand and a concerned look on his face, worried that her sudden silence is disapproval.

“Oh, yeah, of course!” she sputters, taking a seat. “Yeah, it smells great. Thanks.”

She does love him, Felicity thinks a few moments later, as he deftly switches off the burner and brings the plates to the kitchen island, sitting to her right on the stool she already thinks of as his. Fiercely, too. She’s not sure, exactly when it happened, or how. But she loves William for the boy he is, separately from her love for his father. And she believes her mother when she says that’s the most important thing.

They eat in silence for a few minutes, but she can practically feel William working himself up to ask her a question. When he does, it's not at all what she expected.

“Will you tell me the story of the computer?”

Felicity glances at him with a confused frown. “The computer with the bullets in it, the first time you met my dad. You said you’d tell me the story someday.”

“Oh! Yeah, I guess I did, didn’t I?” she laughs, a little bit in relief, dragging the last bite of her breakfast through the syrup pooled on the plate. “Well, there’s not much more to it than that. You know the Palmer Tech building? That used to be Queen Consolidated, Oliver’s family’s company.”

Felicity expects a reaction of some kind, but William just nods. This is either old news or an uninteresting detail in the tale he really wants to hear.

“I worked there, in the IT department, and one day, my boss’s boss’s son came to me with a laptop that was clearly riddled with bullet holes and a bogus story about how it wasn't working because he spilled coffee on it.”

“And you helped him?” William asks with a grin. “Why?”

“Curiosity, at first. I knew he was hiding something and I wanted to know what it was.”

“And that’s when you fell in love with him?”

She laughs at the incredulous tone of his voice. “Yes. Well, maybe.” William screws up his face again at the indistinct. Felicity remembers what it used to be like, to hear people talk about love before you knew exactly how it felt to have that kind of longing loop its way through your insides and pull.

“I think I probably did love him then, but I don’t think I knew it until I joined the team,” she admits wistfully. “I always felt like I was meant to be doing something… bigger, you know? I just didn’t know what. And I didn’t know how to get there.”

She thinks of the people she used to be: the lost little girl, the straight-edge know-it-all mathlete, the reckless daredevil hacktivist. She thinks of the bits of them that are still left in her, that shape the woman she is today.

“When I met your dad -- really met him, hood and arrows and raccoon eyes and all -- it was like... so many of the pieces of my life started to come together,” she tells William. “I started to see where everything fit.”

“How did you find out who he was?” She knows the boy is asking for the specifics of his father’s life as a vigilante, but it hits her like a heavier question. Maybe they’re one in the same.

“He was hurt, and he came to me.” She spares him the imagery of Moira’s gun and Oliver flatlining in the dingy old lair. “He had to take off his mask, so that I’d trust him.”

“And you did?”

“Yeah, I did. Still do. Always have.”

“But you also said he lied,” William remembers with a small frown. “That he kept secrets.”

“Yeah, he has.” Felicity nods solemnly. “And it hurts, but it’s complicated, because when he does those things, he’s usually doing it for a virtuous reason, to save someone else.”

“Just like yesterday.” Again, the boy's capacity to piece together the fragmented details of their jagged lives takes her by surprise.

“Exactly like yesterday,” she agrees. “I'm mad as hell at him for making that call on his own. And I'm furious that there wasn't a better way out. But he did it for us. And I can't hate him for that. If anything, some part of me loves him even more for it.”

William just nods again. “Me too.” But that soft reassurance seems to be the end of it, for now, as he stands to clear the dishes, insisting on washing up himself, despite her half-hearted offer to help.

Felicity knows there's probably some other conversation they should be having now, about family and responsibilities and who's taking care of who, but she's emotionally drained already, and that was only breakfast. So she puts that talk away in her mind for a while, retreating to her office instead and rooting through the desk drawers until she finds the keys to the storage locker garage with the shiny luxury fob attached.

It's worth it, because William cracks his first real smile in days when she asks if he's ever been to Vegas.

They pack a few days of clothes into small bags that will fit in the Porsche, and Felicity hazards a call to Digg, cursing her eyes for welling up at the sound of his voice, a familiar touchstone in a world that feels upside-down right now.

He doesn't like her plan. She hadn't expected him to. “Diaz is going to be coming for revenge, Felicity. Soon.” But she thinks he knows better than to try and talk her out of it right now.

“That seems like an okay time to get the heck out of town, to me.”

He can’t argue much with that, and after a lengthy rundown of the security precautions she’s already planned -- plus a few suggestions on Digg’s end that sound suspiciously ARGUS-influenced -- he sounds slightly more satisfied.

“Call me. Frequently,” he insists.

“You too,” she answers, eyes flooding again. “And if anything happens…”

“We got it, Felicity.” It's good that he says so, and quickly, because she can't even begin to consider the tragedies that could live in that ellipses. “You two take care of each other.”

“We will.” She grins just a little in spite of herself. “Hugs to Lyla and the Digglet. We’ll see you soon.”

The sun's just barely up as they head out of town, but William asks if they can put the top down anyway. It's a lucky thing, because the wind whips Felicity’s glassy eyes dry when they hit the stretch of highway where Oliver once turned to her and said "I'm happy," like he couldn't quite believe it himself.

The diamond on her left hand catches the rising sunlight, and it reminds her how the right things can become beautiful under pressure. She's done this before, built a home without bricks or mortar and held onto happiness with nothing more than her own two hands. She can do it again, she’s certain of it.

She reaches over to the passenger’s seat to ruffle William's hair and he gives her a cautious smile that looks so much like his father's it cuts right through her.

They had made it then, the two of them. They survived so much for their moment in the sun, and Felicity knows in her heart that those are only the first few chapters of their story. She can do it again, for Oliver, and for his son. She’s someone who can do anything for her family.

A/N: Sight of the Son, amirite? (That's a joke for the OG readers, but sure, newbies, if you're down for a Porsche-load of post-s3 feelings, go ahead and check it out.) I'll see myself out.