We are BACK with chapter 18!

This one was extra long, antreat for the long time it took for me to upload it - sorry about that...

Enjoy, and let me know what you thought ;)

"You need to go talk to her, make sure she's ok." Roy raised his head from his hands wearily to glance up at Diggle, who was leaning against a desk looking somber and pale. He raised his eyebrows questioningly and closed his eyes again, resting his chin on his arms. He wasn't going to sleep, but he was still so, so tired. He startled when Diggle's large hand landed with a loud bang on the table he was leaning on. "You need to go to her," Diggle repeated. Roy shook his head. They both knew who he was talking about, but Roy couldn't bring himself to do what Diggle was asking of him. He knew she was probably falling apart, probably blaming herself for the loss of her sister, but what could he do to help her? He couldn't fix her when he was broken himself. He would only end up hurting her even more.

"She doesn't want to talk to me," he answered back quietly.

"You sure about that?" Diggle's voice was gentle and understanding, the voice one would use to calm a child, and Roy found that it worked. He nodded. "Did she tell you she didn't want to talk?" Diggle asked again, gently. Roy shook his head mutely, and Diggle gave a ghost of a smile. "Then who are you to speak for her? She might need you."

"She's fine without me."

"And what about you?" Roy rolled his eyes.

"What about me?"

"Are you fine without her?" Roy sighed.

"Do I look ok?" he laughed humorlessly and softly. He raised his brows and shook his head to make it clear that no, he wasn't, and then shrugged."But I'm afraid that being with her will be worse – for her. I can't help her right now, I – I can't give her any hope – not while I have no hope, and she needs something that can make her happy, and that's not me. Not right now."

"Then who, Roy? Me? Oliver? She doesn't trust either of us nearly as much as she trusts you. She's lost, and she needs someone who can find her. You're the only one who knows her well enough to do that." Diggle bent down with his hand on the table and brought his eyes level to Roy. His eyes were soft and brown, kind, and overwhelmingly full of sadness and pain. "We need her right now. We all lost Felicity," Roy flinched at the name. "But if we work together we might just be able to bring her back, and that's where you'll find your hope." Roy shook his head, but Diggle didn't stop, "do you know where she is right now?" he didn't answer. "Do you know where Mina is, Roy?"

"No." Roy said quietly. "No, I don't. She left a while ago and she still hasn't come back." Diggle leaned back with an air of triumph.

"Then it's time for you to go find her," he said quietly, and gestured towards the computer screens. "Bring her here, and then we can start talking about what we're going to do. Don't give up yet – we're gonna figure something out. We'll get her back." Roy hesitated a second before nodding. "Now go find Mina; I think we both know she needs someone to pick her up right now."

…

When Felicity awoke, there was light in the room that hadn't been there before. She raised a thin, shaking hand to block it as she squinted around, searching for any other changes in the room, but there were none. She sighed. Still nothing to work with.

"Felicity," she jumped and barely stopped herself from screaming out loud at the unexpected voice. "Did you get enough sleep?" she looked around, but the room was empty.

"Where are you?" she asked wearily.

"I'm right outside," came the answer. "You didn't answer my question." Now she could tell that the voice was coming from right outside her door. She got up slowly, sluggishly, and moved towards it.

"Why do you care?" she asked, setting her jaw and staring at the door, willing it to open. The voice, a male's deep voice, chuckled, and Felicity shivered at the ice that seemed to freeze in her veins as she felt something eerily familiar about the sound. Wrapping her arms around herself she reached the door and leaned against it, trying to find a crack through which she could peek and see outside, and understand who the hell she was talking to, although a small, terrified piece of her already knew.

"Honestly, I don't really," the man answered, "but I thought you would feel a little more comfortable if I was civil to you first." Felicity felt goose bumps rise on her flesh.

"What do you want from me?" she asked, willing her voice to remain steady as she spoke to the door, wondering if it was possible to lose your mind from the ghost of a voice you used to know. It seemed to be getting more likely by the minute.

"Right now, I just want to talk. Clear some things up, finish some… unfinished business we have."

"Then talk." Once again the man chuckled.

"We can't talk like this, with a door between us," he said, and Felicity instinctively moved back. She heard a loud click and the door swung open, and with a deep breath Felicity willed her heartbeat to slow down and forced her feet to stay planted in place, resisting her urge to run and hide. Jared Noels smiled at her coldly. "This is much better, isn't it?" she just stared, refusing to answer and let him scare her.

She had known this was coming from the moment she had first seen his face on her screens. She had been preparing herself for this for longer than she was willing to admit. Yet keeping her head high and her back straight, and maintaining her silent, calm demeanor was proving to be far more difficult than she had thought it would be.

With s deep breath, she envisioned the faces of the people she cared about; Roy, Sara, Barry, Diggle, Mina, and Oliver, and more people who had come along the way, helped her keep herself up when she was down. She was alone now, she knew it, but she didn't feel it. There was still someone there, with her. More than one person, holding her up, and helping her gather the courage to look into Jared's cold, dark eyes, and speak.

"What do you want, Jared?" his eyes flashed, and he gestured for her to come out of the room and follow him. With a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and stepped out of the room after him.

…

His body was beyond exhausted, he knew that, and yet he just couldn't seem to stay still. He moved from one place to the other, once a punching bag, next push-ups, then the salmon ladder, but nothing seemed to be enough to bring him to sleep. Right now he was hanging upside down from a thick pipe in the ceiling in one of the smaller rooms, and his chest clenched at a memory of him doing the exact same thing a lifetime ago, before he knew how much he cared about Felicity, with her watching him from right under him.

"You have got to be kidding me." Oliver straightened his body at the sound, and recognized the blond head of Sara along with Laurel's disapproving gaze from his upside-down position. "Have you slept at all since the last time we saw you?" Laurel asked, folding her arms over her chest and frowning at him. Oliver sighed before pulling his body up and righting himself before landing on his feet in front of her. She raised her eyebrows at him.

"I slept a little, Laurel, you need to stop worrying about me," he answered, and internally winced at the sound of his voice. It was rough and exhausted, almost like it was hard for him to talk. Which maybe it was. He had lost his ability to pay attention to his body somewhere in the 20 hours or so (or maybe more, he had lost his perception of time as well) since he had last had some sleep. Laurel's frown deepened, and he heard Sara's sigh. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her shake her head slightly, but she remained silent.

"You need to sleep," Laurel started, but was cut off by his mute shake of his head. "Oliver," she tried again, "I know it's hard but you have to at least try-"

"I have, nothing's working. I can't sleep until I find her, don't you understand?" his voice came out sharper than he intended, almost angry, but that didn't sway Laurel's steady gaze. She took a step closer to him.

"I do understand, Oliver. We both do," she glanced sideways at her sister and so did Oliver, and Sara gave him a small, understanding smile and kept her mouth firmly shut. "I'm not new to feeling useless, and lost, and wanting to do something to help the people I care about even when the situation seems hopeless. My younger sister drowned, remember? She died." Laurel's voice rose as her eyes flashed. "All I wanted to do was get her back – at night I dreamt about her, during the day I was coming up with these crazy plans and stories that always ended with me finding her. And yet nothing I did mattered; no matter how long I stayed awake and planned and schemed, that wasn't what brought her back, ok? That didn't bring her back."

Her voice lowered again to a shaky whisper and her eyes shone at him, and Sara was suddenly behind her, reaching for her hand as a reminder that she was still there. She gazed at her sister with big, sad eyes but said nothing. Oliver's breathing slowed and his heartbeat became slowly steadier as he stared at Laurel. When he spoke again his voice was much softer.

"I know. I know that won't bring her back, it's just-"

"I wasn't finished, Oliver." Laurel tilted her head at him and he pursed his lips and nodded for her to continue. She took a deep breath. "The story isn't finished yet, you know that." Sara smiled softly. "I did get my sister back. I get to say that my sister came back to me from the dead, from the most impossible situation. And did any of my dreams or sleepless nights help me at all in the end? Was that what brought her back?" Oliver hesitated before shaking his head. He knew where this was going, but he really had no argument in him because she was right.

"Keeping yourself awake and exhausting yourself doesn't help; you should know that by now. The only way to deal with this is to keep on fighting for her, and how are you supposed to do that when you're dead on your feet?" she reached out a comforting hand and lay it against his arm. "You will get Felicity back, like I got Sara back. We will find a way out of this impossible situation. But right now, what you need is to rest."

"I just-" Oliver tried one more time, but her eyes flashed and dared him to challenge her, and suddenly he felt exhausted again. Suddenly he could hear his body's pleas for rest again, for a break. Suddenly he realized that he wasn't helping Felicity like this – if anything he was making their chances of finding her even smaller. With a nod he lowered his head and took a step back, and he saw Laurel's eyes soften once again.

"Go rest, maybe you'll even get some sleep in." Sara spoke up for the first time since they had come in, and her voice was soft and controlled, her face a mask of fondness for her sister and worry for him, yet he could see something hiding under the surface. He nodded again and took tired steps towards the doorway.

"Thank you" he said quietly, turning back around to look at Laurel. He hoped his eyes weren't too tired to show his gratitude, and it seemed that even if they were Laurel still understood, because she nodded with a smile.

"Felicity's my friend, Ollie, and so are you. I know you need her, and I know you miss her; I also do. I want her back too." He stiffened all over before exhaling carefully.

"I know." he gave her a tight smile. "Goodnight." She smiled and gave a small wave.

"Sleep tight." He nodded and turned around.

"And just by the way," he heard Sara call, "it's morning already. Almost afternoon. I hope for your sake you manage to sleep, because you have a lot of hours to make up."

…

Laurel turned to her sister with a look of bewilderment. Oliver had finally walked out and gone to rest and hopefully get some sleep.

"Sara, how come you stayed so quiet that whole time?" she asked, referring to the conversation she had just finished with Oliver. Sara shrugged, refusing to meet her sister's eyes, and turned towards the salmon ladder. She reached for her coat and pulled it off.

"Look, Laurel, I need to work some tension off, can we-"

"Come on, Sara. Really? Don't avoid my question like that, you should have helped me! You know he needs that sleep!" Laurel said, placing her hands on her waist and glaring at Sara. Still keeping her eyes cast down, Sara shook her head.

"I couldn't have helped you, not with that." Laurel sighed.

"Why not? You agreed with me before that he needed to rest a little-"

"Yes, but needing to rest and needing to find someone so badly you can't sleep are two very different things, Laurel!" Sara finally said, raising her eyes to Laurel's. Hers were sad, guarded; she had put up walls that hadn't been there for a while.

"What do you mean?" Laurel asked slowly, and Sara sighed.

"I couldn't have helped you because I have nothing to say to him." Sara shrugged. "I understand him. I understand why he isn't sleeping – if I had been in that situation, where someone I loved as much as Oliver loves Felicity was taken from me, I probably would have stayed up days, and weeks, doing something – anything – to stay away from what sleep brings with it."

"What is that?"

"Dreams," Sara answered. "Sleep means dreams, and dreams mean the deepest parts of your mind come to life – what do you think is going on in his mind right now, Laurel? There are really only 2 sides to his mind right now and one of them if not both will come to life when he dreams." Laurel tilted her head, raising her eyebrows in question, and Sara pursed her lips before answering. "One's the hopeful side – the one that'll dream about seeing her again, about everything being back to normal-"

"Like I had," Laurel said, understanding, and Sara nodded.

"Like you had about me, yes. And how did you feel, when you woke up from those perfect dreams to reality? What did it do to you?" Sara asked quietly, knowingly, and Laurel lowered her head at the memory. It had torn her apart, to feel that everything was perfect only to be slapped back into a reality that was anything but perfect.

"It had been worse than staying awake," Laurel answered quietly. Sara nodded again.

"Exactly. And the other option isn't all that much better; it's basically the other end of the scale. If on one end everything was perfect, on this one everything goes as wrong as it can." Sara turned away, staring into the shadows as if watching a ghost from the past. "What do you think dreaming of finding her dead, or never finding her at all, or finding her so different she isn't even herself anymore, will do to him? It'll tear him apart."

"It'll make him lose hope," Laurel said quietly, finally understanding. Sara gave her a sad look and smile in return.

"He still needs to sleep," Sara said quietly, "but I just couldn't bring myself to be the one who tells him to do something that might hurt him. Not that you did anything wrong," she added, "but I couldn't do it. I know that feeling too well." Laurel nodded silently and an eerie silence stretched between them.

"Dreams or not, Oliver needs that sleep, and we need to use the time that he's resting to try and find something. Waking up to nothing will probably make it even worse," Laurel finally said, breaking the silence. Sara nodded without looking at her. "I'm gonna go check if anything came up on any o the searches," Laurel continued, and once again Sara just nodded, but this time she lifted her eyes to Laurels. With a sigh Laurel turned and walked through the door and into the main room. Diggle was there, sitting with his elbows on the desk in front of the computer screens.

"Is there anything new?" Laurel asked, coming to stand next to him. He shook his head.

"Nothing. But let's wait and see, there might still be something, or we might have missed something. There has to be something," Diggle said, looking at her with his eyes shining with frustration, "because you're right. He can't wake up to nothing – it'll make convincing him to sleep again take even longer."

"You heard that?" Laurel said, startled, and Diggle smiled.

"I hear a lot of things," was his answer. They spent a moment of silence looking at the screens. "You were right, you know," he said suddenly, causing her to turn to look at him. "To get him to go to sleep. Dreaming might hurt, but if there's one thing I've learned it's that it's better to dream about the pain than turn it into something as physical as exhaustion. If you're strong enough you learn to push the dream away or deal with it, but exhaustion will always catch up with you in the end." He looked up at her, and there was a certain fondness in his eyes. "I guess heroes have trouble understanding that sometimes," he said, gesturing towards the doorway, and Laurel smiled.

"Or maybe heroes live such a physical world; they don't know how to separate the dreams from reality, mentally. Everything is so technical; they lose the ability to look at it differently." Laurel answered, and she saw him tilt his head in acknowledgment of her words.

"I guess that's where we come in," he said quietly, and Laurel hummed in response. "That's where Felicity came in, for Oliver." Laurel nodded again.

"That's why we need to find her," she answered, and Diggle nodded. She leaned in closer to the screens, and together they stared at them. "There has to be something."

…

Felicity followed Jared for about 5 minutes of walking through plain, mostly empty corridors so alike that trying to remember anything about the way and the layout seemed pointless. The whole time he stayed silent, staring ahead and glancing at her from time to time, an excited, slightly manic look in his eyes every time. It made her want to run back to her room and hide under that poor excuse of a blanket.

Once in a while they were met with another person walking the corridors, but most kept their head down and didn't glance her way. Some Jared stopped and spoke to with hushed voices, but none of those paid her any attention either. Finally they reached a door and Jared gestured for her to walk in with a smile cold as ice.

She was met with a big room with simple furniture, nothing special or too extravagant, and yet there was a certain bone chilling coldness to the simplicity of it. There was a big open space with simple dark rugs and 3 chairs sat facing each other in a semi circle. In the corner was a square wooden table; she could see the points and shapes under the tablecloth that was laid out on it, and a pit of dread settled low on her stomach at the thought of what those hidden objects could be. She turned her gaze away from the table just in time to see Jared's sly smile as he watched her face.

"It looks rather scary, doesn't it?" he asked, his arrogant voice and air of superiority just as she remembered even 16 years later. He walked around the semi circle of chairs and sat down on the far left one. "You really have nothing to worry about – at least regarding what that cloth may be hiding – as long as you don't do anything to provoke us," he said, gesturing for her to sit down next to him on the chair in the middle.

"Who's us?" she asked, pursing her lips and walking up to the chair as he asked. She saw the sparkle of victory in his eyes as he watched her sit down; he must have expected her to fight him. It looked like listening had been a good choice.

"You will meet the other person I'm talking about soon; he had a few things to take care of before he could join us. He is a very busy man, you should know. It takes something very special to convince him to pay attention." Felicity swallowed.

"What makes me so special?" she asked quietly, and once again she saw his eyes light up with a spark of triumph. Silently she cursed herself. He had wanted her to ask that – and she'd played right into his hands. Jared crossed his legs and leaned back in his chair, grinning at her.

"You'll see soon, like I said. I think he will be able to explain very well why you're so special, especially to him. Meanwhile," he said, uncrossing his legs and leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, "how have you been since the last time I saw you? It's been a while, hasn't it?" Felicity just stared. He really had some nerve. But then a thought struck her – he was trying to throw her off balance, confuse her – which was a little pointless, considering their situation had her confused enough as it is. She pursed her lips. She wasn't going to let him sway her that easily.

"H-how I've been? Well let's see, I was doing fine for a while, you now – minus the part where my mom went off the hook and created a mess that ended with me wandering the streets of Vegas all alone for several months," she said, her voice coming out satisfyingly steady and with enough sarcasm to make him straighten up with a look of surprise. She kept her head down as she spoke, not wanting to see his reactions and lose her nerve, and continued. "There's also the part where I had to work my butt off in some crappy school to get a scholarship to go to MIT-"

"-Which you did."

"Then I worked my butt off there to get a good job-"

"-Which you did," he said again, and again she ignored him.

"Then during that job I met some, well, people, and that led to me working with the vigilante-"

"Isn't he The Arrow now?" he interjected, and finally she looked up at him with a scowl. Her breathing was slightly uneven, her heartbeat fast, and her voice had taken a small hysterical edge as she thought more of the situation.

"For a while everything was great until out of the blue Mina came back, you came back, people wanting to kill me, and now – well, now I'm here."

"You say it like it's a bad thing."

"Isn't it?" she asked, meeting his dark, calculating eyes. "It seems pretty bad to me," she muttered, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. She'd gotten too carried away. She had to get herself under control again. "Why do you care how I've been?" She asked quietly, setting her jaw and looking back at him. "You never cared about me; you never cared about my mother either. All you ever cared about is yourself."

"That's probably true," he said, tilting his head in thought, "but who says I care about you now? Maybe I still only care about myself."

"Then why would you ask how I've been?" he shrugged, looking away.

"Maybe for the same reason I asked if you got enough sleep before."

"And what reason is that?" he met her gaze again with a snakelike grin.

"You tell me." He said, and Felicity raised her brows and shook her head. How could she know? "You really don't know?" she shook her head again. He sighed, like a parent sighing at their child's stupidity. "Let's make one thing clear – I do care only about myself. Anything I do has to benefit for me. So now I'm going to ask you a question, and that genius who worked her butt of in school and MIT should be able to understand. Why would I be nice to you? Why would I want to be civil to you, if everything I do is for my own sake?" his eyes were challenging, daring her to answer him correctly.

Felicity stared at him. Biting her lip, she thought of what he was saying. The answer was painfully obvious – but that didn't make saying it out loud, admitting it, any easier.

"You need something from me." She said quietly. He grinned and raised a hand.

"Let's be more precise – you have something I want, I do not need anything from you – that makes me sound way to dependant on you, which I'm not." Felicity's mind barely heard him; it was too busy trying to grasp what she was hearing. What could he want from her when there were a million things he could be talking about? He could want her to hack for him, he could want her as a hostage and leverage – or, she realized suddenly, horrifyingly, there was another thing he could want from her. Something he had wanted before, 16 years ago the night her mom kicked him out, and didn't get the chance to have. And he had said that they were going to settle some unfinished business.

"W-what do you want?" she asked, unable to stop her voice from shaking, and he smiled coldly. He opened his mouth to answer when the sound of the door scraping open again stopped him. A tall, handsome man in an expensive suit stepped inside, and Jared's smile grew even bigger.

"Sebastian! Thanks for joining us at last," Jared said, standing up and shaking 'Sebastian's' hand. Sebastian gave him a small, lifeless smile in greeting and immediately turned to look at Felicity. Felicity leaned back into the chair, wanting nothing more than to turn and look away from him, but his eyes had her hooked.

They were a pale blue with dots of green and flecks of yellow, captivating in their own unique way – she couldn't decide if they were truly blue or green; their color seemed to change with the angles the light hit them. But one thing was certain – there was a note of sadness in them that was impossible to miss. It seemed to settle down on the paleness of the color, turning his eyes watery and veiled.

Sebastian was, despite or maybe because of his eyes, a dangerously handsome man. There was no other way to put it – his features were perfect, hard and defined, but they weren't a gentle beauty. They were wild, dangerous, excitingly exotic. He had an untouchable, cold beauty.

Jared was still smiling, and he gestured for Sebastian to sit in the last chair. Felicity, having sat down in the middle, found herself surrounded by the two of them from both sides. It was like they had purposely trapped her.

"Sebastian," Jared said, "this is Felicity Smoak. Felicity, this is Sebastian Noels."

"Noels?" Felicity echoed, missing something. Sebastian grinned and gave Jared a knowing look.

"Noels," he agreed, and his voice was as cold as his beauty. "I'm Jared's son." Felicity's breath left her lungs in one big sweep.

"You have a son?" she squeaked, "a son old - older than me?" this wasn't making any sense, where was this coming from? Felicity tried to steady her breathing, but nothing could stop her hysteria at not understanding. Jared and Sebastian – father and son, branded, Felicity realized, with the same kind of harsh beauty – grinned at each other once again.

"I was just about to tell Felicity what we want from her when you came in," Jared said, ignoring Felicity's bewildered question. "Do you want to explain instead? I think you'll do a better job than me." Sebastian tilted his head and turned his pale, cold eyes on Felicity once again.

Suddenly they didn't seem so beautiful anymore.

…

Looking out into the night Roy really couldn't see much, but he had a feeling that a thorough search of the mostly empty space would reveal Mina. The computer had led him here so she was obviously somewhere out there, but as always reaching her wouldn't be an easy task – it was something you had to search and work for.

"Mina," he called out quietly, "Mina, where are you?" no answer. Not that he expected one, but still. With a sigh he walked up and started searching for her. The location the computer had given him was a field in the outskirts of the city. There was a gas station, completely empty, and after a round through it he came to the decision that she wasn't somewhere in the empty station; she must have gone out into the field. It was what he would have expected her to do, so he wasn't surprised.

Walking up to the edge of the field he shouted once again, "Mina! Mina, it's Roy!" the rustle of wind through the high weeds was the only answer he got, and once again Roy started to doubt himself. She had made it clear to him that she didn't want to talk; maybe he should just let her be. He knew she would never just leave; she would come back when she was ready, but she didn't seem ready just yet. "Mina?" he tried one last time. "Mina, I know you're somewhere out there. Can you please answer me?" he was surprised to hear his voice shake a little.

"Mina! God, please, let me find you! Please," he lowered his voice and his head and walked into the edge of the field. High weeds brushed against his calves. "Mina-"

"Roy." He froze.

"Mina?" he asked, turning in a circle and searching for the source, hoping he hadn't imagined it.

"I'm here." It was definitely her voice, and he definitely wasn't imagining it. It was rough and scratchy, but hers all the same, and it was coming from somewhere deeper into the field.

"Mina are you ok? Keep talking, I'm coming to you," he said, forcing his legs to move towards her voice. "Are you ok?" he asked again.

"I'm cold." Her voice shook. "I'm really cold. And tired. I haven't felt this tired in a long time." Her voice was closer now, a lot closer.

"You need to rest, Mina. Where are you?" he asked again, frustration taking over him. "I can't – there you are," he breathed out, coming to a stop in front of her curled figure. She raised red eyes to look at him, and her shivering lips formed into a sad smile.

Her eyes were red and puffy, clearly she had been crying a lot, and her small body was curled around itself. Her breathing was steady with occasional hiccups, the kind you got after crying for a long time. He didn't want to think how long she had been out here, crying in the cold. There was a heavy tiredness to the slump of her body, like she had lost all her energy, cried it out. She smiled miserably again.

"You found me. Good for you." Roy just stared, frozen in place. She looked around and rubbed her bare arms. "I'm cold," she said again. Snapping out of it Roy immediately took off the jacket he was wearing, wrapping it around her small body. She was shivering, shaking all over. Bending down, he wrapped his arms around her curled form and pulled her towards him, lifting her up with a hand under her knees and around her back.

"What happened to you?" he asked gently, adjusting his grip on her and looking down at her tired face. She shook her head slightly, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around his neck. Her hands were covered in dirt, and the knees of her leggings were dirty and worn. She muttered something that he couldn't make out and snuggled closer into his chest. Smiling softly he started walking, carrying her towards the car he had brought. "Hmm?" he asked her as he walked, "what did you say?"

"I'm glad you're here." She said quietly. He smiled slightly again, rubbing his hand up and down her back. As cold as she was, her body heat was seeping back in and was reaching him, settling over him calmingly.

"Then I'm glad I came," he answered. "What happened to you?" she ignored his question again, instead closing her eyes once again and curling a hand around the fabric of his shirt and holding tight. The act was childish, something he had never associated with Mina before. He tightened his hold on her and walked faster, reaching the car and gently setting her inside on the passenger seat. He gently pried her hand from his shirt and walked around the car, settling down in front of the wheel. Once again Mina reached out for him, this time grabbing his hand.

"Do you think I deserve to be loved?" she asked suddenly, her eyes still closed, and her voice so quiet he had nearly missed her question. He turned to look at her questioningly. "Do I deserve to be loved?" she asked again, opening her eyes and looking at him. He opened his mouth and closed it, not sure how to answer her. What kind of question was that? Did she really think she didn't deserve to be loved, that girl who left so many people behind, sacrificed people she loved so much to save others she loved?

"Mina, what are you talking about? Of course you deserve to be loved-"

"I don't feel it. I don't feel like I should be allowed to love any more. Maybe the fact that it hurts so much means that I'm better off alone." Roy shook his head in bewilderment.

"Mina, that's total bullshit and you, you should know it by now," he said, his voice coming out roughened by his shock and making it sound like he was angry. She raised her brows in response.

"I don't know. It hurts. And it sucks. And don't curse like that. And I just- I want it to end. I want it to go back to when I didn't feel anything. I want it to go back to a time where I didn't have any problems. Don't you? Don't you wish you'd never met me, and all this would never have happened? Felicity would still be here, and-"

"Mina stop, just stop!" Roy said, shaking his head. "Where is this coming from? Do you really wish all this had never happened?" she shrugged, turning away from him and staring at the night.

"Don't you?" she asked again quietly. Roy shook his head again.

"No, I don't. Why the hell would I want something like that? Why the hell would you want something like that?"

"Because that would mean that no one cared about anything. No one would have gotten hurt if I had just stayed away, no one would have cared about anything, I wouldn't have learned to love my sister again, I wouldn't have found people I could love like an actual family, I wouldn't have fallen in love with you, nothing would have happened!" Roy's breath caught in his throat at her admission, but the strength in the pain of her words was what he felt needed the attention.

"You really regret learning to love us?" she shrugged again, and Roy lowered his head. "Mina," he said gently, "listen to me. If there's one thing I know for sure about love is that it doesn't work if it's one-sided. You would never have managed to love Felicity if she didn't love you back. You would never have learned to love any of us if we didn't all love you back like you were our family. And you might think you regret your side of it, but I promise you; none of us regret ours. How could any of us regret someone as amazing as you?" he said gently, squeezing her hand in his. He took a deep breathy, knowing what he was about to say next would be hard to say, but willing himself to voice his thoughts all the same.

"I don't regret falling in love with you. I don't regret you falling in love with me. I don't regret any of it." He heard her breath catch but he continued before he lost his nerve. "I love you. It can get pretty freaking hard, what with you running away and regretting things all the time, but I do love you. And I would never regret it." He finished, shaking his head to prove his point. "And you shouldn't either." She stared at him, mouth opened, and he lowered his gaze. When she didn't answer he started the car, turning out of the empty gas station parking lot and into the street, her small hand still holding firmly onto his.

"Thank you," she muttered suddenly, and he saw her curl in her seat out of the corner of his eye. He squeezed her hand in response and she placed another hand over both of theirs. "And just so you know," she said quietly, "I-I love you too. I really do, and it scares me. Nothing can change that." He nodded. "and maybe…" she trailed off, and he turned to look at her questioningly. "Maybe I was wrong. I mean, there are a lot of things I regret, but really meeting you guys can't be one of them. Love is what makes you stronger; pain is what keeps you fighting. I want to learn how to do that."

"You already know. I've seen the way pain's made you the fighter you are today."

"I guess so," she answered in a faraway voice, and he turned his head to see her eyes closing. Snuggling further into her seat she shut her eyes and fell asleep immediately, holding onto his hand as if it were an anchor. He squeezed her fingers gently, and even in her sleep, she squeezed back.

I really really hope you liked this, It took a while to form into words. I know there are still alot of questions but they will gradually answered in the next chapters.

Don't forget to let me know what you thought!

Love you all :)