I wrote this just for Tumblr, and it did pretty well so I thought I should publish it here too.

Just a warning: there's some bloody violence and a string of curse words in here.


Blood inked Felicity's hands as she sewed up Oliver's side as he lay on the operating table. It wasn't her area of expertise, but Diggle was passed out on the training mats, thoroughly bashed up and out of the fight. If not for Sara, he and Oliver would probably be dying on a pile of rubble in the devastated city. She sat in Felicity's chair, her arm in a makeshift sling. Felicity had also noticed a limp when she came in supporting the two men.

Oliver's condition was somewhere just under Diggle's: a broken arm, a broken leg, a few deep cuts, multiple bruises, a split lip, a nasty black eye, a cracked rib or two, and a burn on his calf. In bad shape, but still alive. And now completely patched up. He reached for her hand with his good one.

"Maybe… you could run." Oliver said softly, his voice rough. His eyes betrayed the shame of his failure.

Felicity had been able to hold back tears until this point. She wiped at her eyes with her wrist. "If you're not leaving, I'm not leaving. You know that."

He took a slow, careful breath. "Slade will want to hurt you… because of me." Oliver turned his head to the screens, which were showing the news. Clearly, the Mirakuru soldiers were ordered not to attack news crews; the Arrow needed to see his city being destroyed. "I failed again. We can't save any of them." It took effort for him to raise his hand to caress her cheek. She could feel the grit, grime, and blood on his leather gloves. "At least let me try to save you."

She held his hand there, letting her vision blur and a few tears fall. The news footage was all fire and mayhem, people dying and soldiers ravaging. The city's vigilantes were out of commission, and the police had no hope against the army.

Her lip quivered and fear bubbled in her stomach. "You're right." More screams sounded on the news and the reporter looked behind her in fear. Felicity knew what must come next, what she must sacrifice if the city were to survive. "This looks like a job for someone else."

"Maybe you can get away," The hope in his eyes broke her heart. "Hide somewhere. Change your name. Become someone else. Hack your way into a new life so he can't find you."

She squeezed her eyes shut and nodded, still holding his hand to her cheek. "I could." Of course she could. She'd done it before.

He smiled weakly, and he almost seemed at peace just by hearing those two little words. "Good. I couldn't handle it if he hurt you, Felicity. So will you go?"

"Oliver…" she said gently, feeling like it was the last time. And maybe it was. She kissed the inside of his wrist and placed his hand at his side. The next words were struggling to leave her throat as the emotion welled up. "I… I'm so sorry."

"You've done what you can."

"I haven't," she whispered as she put a hand to his jaw and leaned in. He couldn't understand the fear in her eyes. "I was so scared, I… I didn't want to hurt anyone and for anyone to come after me. I just… wanted to be normal." She choked out a sob. "I thought it'd be safer for everyone if I were normal. I'm so sorry."

"Felicity, what are you talking about?"

Oliver watched as Felicity stood there, looking more raw and vulnerable than he'd ever seen her. Finally, she took a deep breath. With shaking hands, she took off her glasses and wrapped his fingers around them.

"Why are you—?"

She cut off his question with a kiss; a soft, warm, desperate kiss that he would soon realize was a goodbye. Then she was walking away before he could recover.

"What are you doing?" Sara asked, trying to rise from the chair. Felicity was removing her heels; they would be about as useful as her glasses.

The I.T. girl glanced at her. "Stay with them. Keep them safe."

"Why are you leaving your glasses? And your shoes—"

"Just stay with them. Please, Sara."

"But—"

"Remember when I told you I can keep a secret?" she said, her voice breaking. "It's because I have a secret of my own."

The blondes stared at each other for a moment in silence. Then Felicity spoke again. "Please keep them safe."

She dashed out of the Foundry before Sara could hobble after her.

Sobbing, Felicity leaned against the door, the horrific noises of the burning city shrieking around her as the sun peeked over the horizon. It was time. She's hoped the time would never come, but here it was.

"One day, they're going to need us." her cousin argued.

She tossed her curly brown mane over her shoulder. "Yeah, maybe. But not today. So until then we need to hide."

He sighed and looked out over the cornfield. "I know they're not all like Ma, but if we show that we're here to help then maybe—"

"Maybe they won't be afraid? No, Clark. No matter how nice we are they will always be afraid. They'll hate us and the government will try to hunt us down. We can't expect them to accept us."

"If we can help, we should." he stated firmly.

It was her turn to sigh. "Then we'll find another way to help. A normal way. And whether you agree with me or not, Ma said it's better that we hide our abilities."

"I'm still right, though." he mumbled.

And he was. The day had come, and she was standing shoeless outside Verdant, trying to coax out a part of her that she had (for the most part) suppressed for ten years. Ten years of constant practice to turn second nature into dull memory. Ten years of pretending she was too weak to open a pickle jar. Ten years of bundling up when she should be cold. Ten years of fearing things not because they could hurt her, but because they could expose her for what she was.

Now she had to undo it all because of a psychotic, vindictive Australian with the emotional maturity of a small child. First, she would tear through every single soldier in his stupid little army. Then she would make him pay.

She started to jog, then run, reminding herself there was no need to act winded. The glass and debris beneath her feet would not cut her. The fire would not burn her.

Then she jumped. And with that, Felicity Smoak was gone in a single bound.

She saw a cluster of soldiers heading down the street just before she started falling from her twenty-story height. Her landing among them sent out a spider web of cracks in the asphalt. Undaunted by what they assumed were Mirakuru-induced powers, they attacked. The first to reach her was greeted with a punch—through his skull.

Her eyes widened. She was rusty, which meant that her control wouldn't be ideal, but then she smiled upon realizing that moderation wasn't entirely necessary in this situation.

Pulling her gory fist from the soldier's head, she looked around at her other opponents as the dead body collapsed to the ground. They certainly looked confused, but soon they were rushing at her again. The one that actually landed a hit crushed his hand on her cheekbone. She impaled all five of them with either fist or foot, leaving each of her limbs half covered in blood.

She strained to hear for the nearest soldiers, which were a block away. Using her super speed, she hit them like a Mack truck then tore off their heads for good measure.

The once I.T. girl was now an unstoppable death machine. One soldier after another faced her and lost. Superhuman limbs littered several streets, and she was just getting warmed up.

An SUV was thrown at her, and she caught it, much to the soldiers' surprise. She threw it back and set it on fire with her heat vision.

A small, bright light behind her caused her to turn around. It was a gawking cameraman. She waved nervously before speeding off.

Another group of soldiers surrounded someone curled up on the ground. She crashed in and interrupted their kicking. In seconds they were dismembered and the victim raised his head.

Through the blood and bruises, she could see it was Roy. And his slack jaw suggested he could see it was her.

"You should get back to Thea and Mrs. Queen." she said.

"Felicity Smoak?" He pushed himself off the ground. "How… Did you get injected, too?"

Dozens of soldiers were heading towards them now; perhaps Slade was fed up with her interference.

"Get out of here." she commanded.

"No." he rebutted, pressing his back to hers and raising his fists.

The gesture, however endearing, made her roll her eyes. But she knew how stubborn he could be and decided to welcome the help.

The nearest soldier was cut down with heat vision. Roy threw her a look that suggested it was not in his arsenal of superpowers. The rest were on them quickly, but the two were ready. Some of her hits sent soldiers flying, and others were so abrupt that she momentarily wore them as bracelets. One attacked Roy from behind, causing her to wrench the guy's head from his shoulders and toss it aside. Blood spurted from the stump and onto the chest of her blue dress before the body fell.

Minutes later, she and Roy were surrounded by bits and pieces of dead super soldiers.

She had expected him to demand a few answers, but no.

"Come on," he said, grabbing her bloody hand and pulling her down the street. They stopped in their tracks when they noticed a soldier with a… Oh, hell. Did he really need a flamethrower?

Instinct overrode common sense, leading her to crouch down with Roy and shield him. Her back took all the heat, and when it was done, the soldier scowled at his failure.

The back of her dress was completely scorched off, as was the scant layer of clothing under it. After quickly killing the soldier with her heat vision, she frowned at Roy.

"I need your hoodie. Now." She blushed, her hands behind her back.

Ignoring her, he pulled at her shoulder so he could check her for burns.

"Now, please!" she insisted, feeling the dress threatening to fall off her.

He quickly shrugged off his hoodie and she pulled it on over her now backless dress before scurrying behind an abandoned bus. All her clothes were completely ruined, forcing her to shimmy out of them and cover herself in only the borrowed red hoodie. Luckily, it was just barely long enough to offer her a modicum of modesty.

"Thanks." she said after zipping it most of the way up and walking back towards him.

He raised an eyebrow. "You're gonna fight in that?"

She mimicked his expression. "After everything you've seen me do, that's the question you have for me?"

He waited a beat before replying. "Are you totally naked under there?"

"Now is not the time to be cute, Roy." She pushed up the too-long sleeves. "I need to get going."

"We need to get going."

"You need to get back to Thea."

"You need my help!"

"She and Mrs. Queen need you more than I do!"

"They're all the way at the mansion. They're safe."

"Roy,"

His jaw tensed. "Who's gonna watch your back?"

"I've been punching through super soldiers like they're made of Jell-O, and you think I need help?"

"I just… Car!"

She turned around just in time to catch the Hummer. The car was returned much too fast and turned the offending soldiers into gross red smears on the side of a building. But to be safe, she still blew up the Hummer with heat vision. She'd forgotten how much she liked using that power for something other than shaving.

"You were saying?" she said coolly.

His arms crossed over his chest. "I just don't think you should have to handle this alone."

She sighed angrily. "Fine, you stubborn little bastard. But I'm only letting you tag along because you're jacked up on that Mirakuru crap."

Roy took her hand again and they ran until they encountered more soldiers. This time the fight was caught by a news crew. After the carnage was complete, the stupidly fearless reporter actually tried to get a statement from her.

"Who are you?"

"Sorry, but we're in a hurry." She threw Roy's arm over her shoulder and the two shot into the air. He clung to her, and she tightened her arm around his waist as they darted around a corner.

They came to a stop in front of a swarm of soldiers surely sent to take them down. As soon as their feet touched the ground, they were crushing skulls and snapping femurs.

"Duck!" she yelled at Roy when the ring of attackers around them tightened. Pressing him into a crouch, she unleashed two red rays of fury and created a circle of dead freaks. Those behind them hesitated to move closer. Most of them even backed up.

Roy straightened up and looked at her work, impressed. "I'm torn between wanting to be your sidekick and wanting to date you."

"You could do both." He gave her a look. "I mean I'm not telling you to, I'm just saying, you know, that hypothetically you could—Just go kick someone's ass!"

The melee continued until every last one was an icky stain on the asphalt.

"Think that's the last of them?" Roy asked.

That's when she realized which building they were in front of. She'd found Slade a couple of weeks ago, but the team knew it was too risky to storm the tower.

It wasn't so risky anymore.

She kissed Roy on the cheek. "Thanks for the help, kid. But I gotta do the rest on my own."

"I think I've shown I can handle myself, Superblonde."

She snorted. "Cute. But really, I've got to leave you behind this time." And without another word she blasted off into the sky, heading straight for the penthouse.

The moment she became level with the massive window, she saw him.

And the fear in his expression made her smile.

One punch shattered the window and sent Slade scurrying to the middle of his office. She landed lightly on his desk.

And damn, was she a sight to behold. Congealed blood flaked off her hands and legs. Dust and mascara smudges dirtied her face and the droplets of dried blood on her neck called attention to her messed up red lipstick. Her ponytail was hopelessly windblown and sprinkled with rubble, as well as brown from losing most of its dye to the flamethrower. And the homicidal gleam in her eye brought the whole look together.

"You hurt my friends." It was the first and most important thing that came to mind. "You know, that last time a psychopath sought misguided vengeance for the death of the woman he loved, I just stayed at my desk and did what I could from there. I wouldn't have found that second device unless I knew it existed, anyway. So I got to stay Felicity Smoak for one more year." Her voice grew louder. "But then you came along and whipped up an army of super soldiers. They beat the sauce out of everyone and forced me to be what I haven't been in ten years. All because you blame Oliver for Shado's death!" She hopped to the ground and he backed up a few steps. "I mean, are you fucking kidding me with that shit? I had to go all Kryptonian on everybody's ass because you blame Oliver for something that wasn't—"

He pulled out a gun and fired at her until the magazine was empty.

"Do not interrupt me when I am talking!" She angrily tugged at the hoodie a few times to let the flattened bullets fall out. They clattered to the marble floor as Slade looked on in terror. "This is a borrowed hoodie, by the way. I was hoping to get it back to its owner reasonably intact. Although admittedly there is a lot of blood on this thing but the fabric is red so maybe it won't be so hard. Do you know how to get bloodstains out? You seem like the kind of guy who had to learn. Have you ever tried OxiClean? I never have, but—Oh, wait, sorry. I'm babbling when I should be killing you."

Slade dropped his gun and raised his hands in an effort to calm her. "That won't be necessary."

"Um, actually, I think it will be very necessary."

"I'm a man of means. You could use me."

"Yeah, or I could toss your one-eyed Aussie ass out that window."

And that's what she did before he could say anything else.

After watching him plummet to what was hopefully his death, she went down to inspect the mess he left on the sidewalk. He looked fairly dead, but she removed his head and punted it down the street just to be safe.

"Ms. Smoak?" Officer Lance came jogging up behind her, reluctant to keep his glock in its holster.

Slowly, she turned to face him. "You shouldn't be out here."

He glanced pointedly at her hoodie. "You know where that Harper kid is? Because after seeing you two in action, the SCPD is looking for a way to end the both of you."

Her eyes narrowed. "But we helped save the city."

"They think you're just rogue soldiers, Felicity. They don't care that you saved the city; you're dangerous. The whole army was too much for them to handle, but just two against borrowed heavy artillery—"

"Are you warning me or are you going to arrest me?"

Lance adjusted his hat. "I wanted to tell you I'm grateful, and that you should get the hell outta town. Bring Harper with you if you can. He doesn't seem as durable as you."

She fidgeted with her sleeve, not comfortable with how right she was about being viewed as a monster. "Is Laurel okay?"

"Oliver got her out in time. She only has a concussion. How's Sara?"

"Decent shape, considering. She's at Verdant with Oliver and Diggle. Can you go check on them?"

He nodded. "Yeah, and I'll tell 'em you said goodbye."

A small smile tugged at her lips. She turned to walk off, but then remembered something. "Um… Officer Lance? I have a tortoise, if you know anyone who might want him…"

Lance chuckled. "I'll ask around."

"Thanks,"

Roy was a few miles from the mansion when she found him. She touched down in front of him, forced to endure the smug look on his face.

"You spent so much time trying to get rid of me, yet you end up tracking me down."

She crossed her arms, the sleeves covering her hands. "We have to go."

"Why? Did we miss a few?"

"Lance said we should leave the city."

He blinked and looked towards the mansion just beyond the hill. "Right now?"

"We freaked people out, Roy."

"Yeah, and we saved them." He ran a dirty hand through his hair. "Can't I see her first?"

"Lance will fill them in."

That didn't seem to ease his mind much, but eventually he nodded. "So… What? You gonna fly us outta here?"

She shook her head. "We'll need to be more careful than that."

"Then what happens? What will we—"

"Don't worry, Roy; I've done this before. First we need to get out of Starling without anyone noticing and then we'll make a quick stop in Smallville—"

"Wait," His brow furrowed. "Does that mean Felicity Smoak isn't your real name?"

That got a smirk from her. "Yes, it does. Now let's get out of here before the police arm themselves with bazookas."


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