A.N.: Hello! Look at that, it's only been four months since I updated, I feel so proud of myself! This chapter was really hard to write, because it's emotionally charged. I'm not sure I did a good job, but I tried my best. Prepare for THE SAD.

WARNING: the sad, sad Felicity all over, sad otp, just overall sadness (just thought I'd warn you so I don't ruin anyone's day) also, a little bit PTSD, it's not the main theme.

mjf2468: thank you so much! action scenes make me nervous, so it's nice to know it turned out good. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

nrdhrd3: here's more! here it is! thanks for reviewing!

Toodles147: thank you! I'm glad you started reading it, new readers make me giddy! I do intend to finish it eventually.

Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow.

Sorry for any mistakes and I hope you enjoy!

Fallout: The adverse results of a situation or action

Oliver was at the salmon ladder, trying to work out the anxiety he felt about telling the truth to Felicity tomorrow, when he heard the loud alarm coming from his phone and his blood ran cold. No. Please, no. Please.

His mind flashed for a second to the day Felicity programmed it; that conversation was branded into his brain and he could almost hear her voice.

"There you go, if you ever hear this, come running. Well, not literally running, because that'd take a while and if I ever press this it'll be because I'm bleeding on the floor or something, so you should probably use your bike." she froze at her own words and stammered, trying to backtrack "Or not, it probably won't be because of… of… that. Who knows? Maybe I'll press it whenever I need food, don't put it past me." she made a poor attempt at turning it into a joke, but all Oliver could see was the image she described: Felicity bleeding on the floor of her apartment.

His hands slackened involuntarily, sending him clumsily to the ground. If not for his quick reflexes, he'd have broken a few bones when he landed, but he managed to right his posture at the last second and was running towards his phone as soon as his feet touched the floor. He picked it up from the table and confirmed what he already knew: it was Felicity's panic button alert.

He was in a daze for a moment, the reality that Felicity was in danger taking his breath away like no reps in the salmon ladder ever could. He needed to move, he needed to get to her. What if I can't get there in time? Why am I not moving?

"…it'll be because I'm bleeding on the floor or something…"

Her voice rang in his head and he snapped out of it, grabbing his uniform and weapons while calling Diggle.

"I'm nine minutes out, you'll get there first. Go straight to her apartment and I'll circle the perimeter when I get there." Diggle answered on the first ring without so much as a hello and his friend's instant focus helped reel in Oliver's emotions.

"I don't care how, but you'd better make it in eight. I'll get there in six minutes and fifty two seconds, but I need you to watch my back, I can't waste time worrying about that." Oliver said as he dressed and checked his bow and arrows. "And don't forget about the-"

"The abandoned apartment on the building across the street. Second floor, left corner. Perfect spot for snipers. I've got it, we've been over this. Just focus on getting there, Oliver." Diggle snapped and Oliver could hear the click his guns made while he checked them.

Without another word, Oliver hang up and ran towards his bike.

Felicity hadn't moved an inch since Slade left, standing frozen in the dimly lit room, the only source of light being the lamp Slade had turned on earlier and the street lamps. She was leaning against the wall, clutching her left arm and staring blankly at the door.

The bleeding was minor and had stopped a while ago; she didn't know when. In fact, she wasn't really sure how much time had passed. She knew it must've been a few minutes, but it felt like hours.

Her encounter with Slade kept playing in her mind on a loop. Could it be true? Has Oliver been lying to me this whole time? The horrifying doubt was gnawing at her stomach, the possibility of it being true making her head spin.

Logically, Felicity knew she should be processing what he did to her, how close she had been to dying. She should be checking her injuries. That's what you do when a murderer hurts you, right? But this was just another thought that was fighting for a place at forefront of her mind, she found herself unable to focus.

She felt numb. Her limbs were heavy and yet she felt numb all over. It was such a weird sensation that she was sure she'd laugh if she could feel her face. That thought reminded her of Oliver touching her face when he almost kissed her for the second time. She could feel her face then; it tingled and grew warm at his touch.

She remembered the anticipation, how much she wanted him to kiss her. But he hadn't. He had pulled away instead and there was this look in his eyes; like he was sorry about something and wanted to make it better, but didn't know how. She couldn't forget that look; she had analyzed it for days. Felicity convinced herself at the time that the emotion she saw in his eyes was regret, but a horrible thought occurred to her now. What if it was guilt? What if he felt guilty for lying to me about my father?

She started cataloging every one of these looks Oliver gave her in the past few months, every odd behavior that she caught, but dismissed; the avoidance, his whispered conversations with Diggle that stopped when she entered the room. If it was true, did John know about it? No, John would tell her. Right?

Felicity could barely process the possibility of being betrayed by Oliver like that. If John had also betrayed her, she was sure she'd break into a million pieces. They were the most important people in her life. Was she seriously considering that they'd keep something like that from her? Maybe Slade was just playing her and she was falling for it like an idiot. That had to be it. She'd talk to Oliver and clear everything up and she'd feel silly about the whole thing later.

She wanted to believe that, desperately so, but the evidence of the contrary was just too grand, her rational mind refused to ignore it. These thoughts kept circling her brain, and the more she analyzed them, the more doubt she felt.

A loud crash startled Felicity out of her dazed state and she looked to the living room window in alarm, her heart started galloping and she held her breath. The window had been broken and there was a large man standing by it, gazing rapidly at every corner of her living room. For a brief second she thought that Slade was back to kill her, but she was able to start breathing again when she saw the familiar bow and arrow moving as he scanned the barely lit room and found her. Oliver.

"Felicity" he whispered as their eyes met.

She could see the relief she felt mirrored in his eyes before he started scanning her body, his gaze lingering on the bloody arm that she still clutched.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt? Who did this?" Oliver asked in quick succession as he took long strides to approach her, putting his bow away while he walked.

She opened her mouth to answer, but she couldn't concentrate enough to put a sentence together, it was like the words got lost along the way. Her mind was full and her heart was still beating a mile a minute from the scare his sudden entrance gave her. She just needed him to slow down for a second, so she could think.

When he reached her, he took her right hand and removed it from her left arm, squeezing it briefly in comfort before inspecting the wound, only looking into her eyes again when he saw that it wasn't serious.

"It's not a deep cut, you won't need stitches." he said softly and Felicity was thankful. His gentle movements and the soothing tone of his voice were helping slow her racing heart and mind; she could feel herself returning to normal.

"What about your shoulder? Can I take a look at that?" he asked, still speaking in a low volume, and Felicity wondered briefly how he could tell that it was hurt before remembering how much experience he had with injuries.

She turned slightly to the side, giving him access to her injured shoulder and he lifted the sleeve of her - his - t-shirt to touch the extremity of her upper arm and scapula. He pressed a tender spot and muttered an apology when she winced.

"It looks like it's just bruised, but we should get you to a hospital just in case." he said and took her hands in his; turning her to face him directly again. His voice was soft, but Felicity could see how much anger he was trying to contain "Was it Slade?"

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a second. "Y-" her voice cracked and she cleared her throat, taking another deep breath "Yes. He was waiting for me when I got home." She felt more in control upon noticing that her voice was even.

"You're safe now." Oliver whispered. He released her hands and cupped her face, stroking her cheekbones with his thumb.

Felicity felt like crying and closed her eyes to keep it from happening, but it didn't work; a few tears escaped and Oliver wiped them away gently as he whispered comforting words. The feeling of safety he provided just reminded her of how terrified she had been earlier and she didn't want to think about what happened; she wasn't ready to deal with it.

Instead, she focused on his gentle caress and on his voice, but that was no good either. Even though she craved his touch and it still made her skin tingly and warm, it felt wrong, and that realization brought fresh tears to her eyes.

She never thought Oliver's touch would feel wrong, but, at that moment, it did. After what Slade said to her, she didn't know if she could accept comfort from Oliver. It felt wrong to be comforted by the person responsible for her pain. And she hated that Oliver could be that person.

That's why she had to know if it was true. Felicity wished it to be a lie with every fiber of her being. She was holding onto the possibility that Slade had simply told her an elaborate lie with the desperation of someone who searches for water in the desert, but, until she knew the truth, she couldn't let herself be comforted by the man she loved.

Felicity heard the faint crackle of Oliver's earpiece, indicating that John was talking to him, and used the opportunity to move away from him while he quietly answered. She needed to organize her thoughts, to figure out how to ask what she needed to know and to prepare herself for the answer.

She crossed the living room and turned on the lights, just for something to do. Blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness, she walked towards the couch, intending to sit on it, when she remembered that Slade sat there. The thought stopped her in her tracks and she stared blankly at the couch, her mind replaying their conversation and the fear she felt at his presence.

"Diggle is circling the perimeter one last time and then he'll come up. We're gonna take you to the hospital to check your shoulder, there could be a hairline fracture." Oliver's soft voice snapped her out of it and she looked at him.

Somewhere along the way he had lowered his hood and taken off his mask and she could see his expression clearly now. It was carefully collected, but his eyes were giving him away. She could see a mix of anger, sadness, guilt, longing and others she couldn't identify, but the predominant one was anger. Knowing him, Oliver was equal parts angry at himself and Slade, probably more at himself for not being able to stop this from happening.

Part of her wanted to go to him, take his hand and tell him that it wasn't his fault. The other part of her focused on his expression of guilt and all of the other times she'd seen him giving her that same look.

"Felicity" Oliver said as he approached her "What happened? What did Slade want with you?" he moved to take her hand, but she took a step back. She didn't miss the hurt look that crossed his face before he rearranged it into a blank mask.

"He-" her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before taking a deep breath, making sure she spoke evenly this time "He wanted to talk. He asked me about my father." Felicity watched as his neutral features changed to surprise and confusion "He said you know my father; that you met him when you worked for A.R.G.U.S."

That look was on his face again, the one she had been obsessing over for the last half hour. Her stomach coiled at the sight of it and she hugged her middle tightly with both arms.

"Felicity, I…" he trailed off, his voice heavy with guilt, his eyes begging her for forgiveness, but she didn't want to believe it.

"But it can't be true, because you would've told me." she sounded as broken as she felt, tears were starting to stream down her face, but it didn't matter, because she needed him to tell her it was a lie. "You wouldn't hide that from me, right?"

He took one step closer to her and she took one step back. He closed his eyes for a second, but the guilt was still there when he opened them. "Felicity, I'm so sorry."

"No!" she cried and put a hand over her mouth to contain her sobs "Why? Why didn't you tell me?" she asked desperately. She didn't want to break down any further, so she let her anger take over, her voice rising despite how scratchy it was, despite the tears that still fell down her face "You knew how much I was struggling with it; you knew I needed to know more about him!" something occurred to her and she almost gasped at how horrible the thought was "Did you know I was his daughter when you met me? Is that why you came into my office that first time?"

"What? No!" he exclaimed, he started to raise his hand to touch her, but thought better of it and lowered it again "I found out Dr. Goodwin was your father when you showed me that picture, I had no idea you were related to him before."

"Why didn't you say anything then?" she snapped.

"I wanted to tell you, Felicity, you have to believe me." Oliver said softly, his eyes the only indication that he was pleading, but she couldn't feel compassion for him. Suddenly, all she felt was rage. He continued "It's just complic-"

She slapped him, the loud sound resounding in her silent apartment. She knew he could've easily stopped her, but he didn't, and that made her even more angry. She slapped him again and he let her.

"Don't you dare say it's complicated, I deserve better than that pathetic excuse." she said venomously and Oliver looked ashamed of himself.

They stood there looking at each other for a few seconds, Felicity brimming with anger and heartbreak while Oliver drowned in guilt and self-loathing.

"You're right. It's not complicated at all; I've just been a coward." he paused and took a deep breath "The reason I didn't tell you I know your father, Felicity, is because I'm the one who killed him."

"What?" she whispered. His words sunk in like a ton of bricks falling on top of her head, leaving her dizzy and out of breath for a second. No. Please, no. Please. She closed her eyes and focused on breathing as heavy tears escaped her eyes again. It was all too much, she couldn't handle it.

"My mission was to-"

"Get out." Felicity said brokenly, her eyes still firmly closed.

"Feli-"

"Leave!" she cried out. Opening her eyes again, Felicity noticed that Oliver looked a thousand years old, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. She felt as exhausted as he looked and it showed in her voice "I can't, Oliver. Just leave me alone."

Oliver looked at her one last time, his eyes filled with different emotions, and left without another word.

A.N.: Ouch. Felicity's had a long day. Raise your hand if you saw it coming! Review, please!