Aftershocks

By TheLostMaximoff

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. R/R.

She thinks she's going to die. She can feel the tremors rattling the walls around her. The air pops with the sound of electrical equipment breaking. Felicity Smoak thinks that her current predicament is completely unfair. She can't die now when there's so much work to do. If she makes it out of this alive then she's going to kill Malcolm Merlyn herself, assuming that Oliver didn't already do that.

She whimpers as the aftershocks finally settle down. She doesn't know how the com-links held up but they seem functional. She promises herself that she'll check on everything else later. At the moment, she needs to get above ground. This is the last place to be during an earthquake. It's a miracle she isn't already buried alive. Felicity doesn't consider herself a very religious person. She goes to services for holidays but never really went in for regular attendance. She's done more praying in the past few minutes than she has in possibly her whole life. It seems to have paid off for her. All she has to do is get above ground and assess the damage. It shouldn't be too difficult.

"Wait," she says to herself as she tries to open the hatch that will take her up into whatever is left of Oliver's nightclub. "No, no, no."

The hatch won't budge. She assumes it's covered in debris. She can't get out. She's going to be trapped in this God-forsaken hideout for the rest of her life. She futilely bangs on the hatch and winces from the pain in her hand. She's going to die. It's going to be slow, very slow. She guesses she will starve to death, waste away into nothingness. It's not fair. She helped Oliver save the city and now she's going to pay the price.

"It should've been me."

Felicity realizes that she never took her earpiece out. The com-links still work and she can hear Oliver. Without even seeing the scene, she knows what's going on. Tommy is dead. Felicity never knew very much about Tommy Merlyn beyond what she had seen in the tabloids and what little Oliver had mentioned. She's never been able to be a real part of Oliver's life until very recently. Sometimes, Felicity wonders what her life would be like if she had been friends with Oliver before the island. Would she even be involved in this now or would she be like Laurel and remain in the dark?

"Oliver," she croaks and she hates herself for demanding his attention when he obviously has more pressing concerns. "Oliver, I can't get out of here. I'm stuck."

"Where?"

"The hideout. The hatch to get upstairs is blocked."

She can tell he's moving and she hears the whine of a motorcycle engine. She wonders if he can save her this time. She remembers all the times he's come to her rescue and then the few times she's returned the favor. She was willing to go to jail for him. It seems like a silly thing now but she was going to take the fall for him. She finds it so completely insane that she's willing to do just about anything for him. She's never really felt like that about anyone in her life. There were people she was in love with but that's not quite what this is, at least not as she sees it.

"I see it," says Oliver.

Felicity sprints to the hatch and hears someone right above it. She pushes against the door but it won't budge. Oliver is rummaging around and she can't figure out exactly what he's doing.

"What do you need me to do?" she asks.

"Get clear," he orders and she gets away from the hatch just in time.

The explosion from his last trick arrow breaks up the chunk of ceiling that fell on the hatch. Oliver moves the debris away and opens it up. Felicity barely has time to get out of his way as he storms into the training area and begins tearing through everything in sight. The racks full of his arrows are swatted aside in his mad rage. Felicity's never seen him so distraught, so broken. Not for the first time, she wonders what he endured on that island and how maybe it took his toll on him in a way she can't even fathom. She knows if she had been in his shoes, she would've died a thousand times over. She watches him even now as he tries to compose himself and utterly fails. He just crumples to the floor and sobs, burying his head in his hands.

"You remember that case with Joseph Falk?" she asks. "You know, The Savior or whatever?"

Oliver's head snaps up and Felicity wishes to God he was using his angry face instead of the expression he wears now. She's not scared of angry Oliver. She's faced him down more than once but this . . . this is broken Oliver, defeated Oliver.

"Yes." His tone is hollow and mechanical.

"You told me that if I needed someone to talk to, I could talk to you." Felicity moves to his side and sits next to him. "So now I'm telling you the same thing. Talk to me."

Oliver doesn't say anything. He doesn't have to. He just continues grieving while Felicity puts her arm around him and they both wait for whatever comes next.