Author's note: Whoa. I am so sorry this took so long. So, knowing what you want to write and knowing how the story ends, doesn't actually make it any easier to get it down on paper. I think the parts I deleted equal the length of this chapter. I basically rewrote this thing like four times. Ugh.

A big 'thank you' to everyone who reviewed and who've been waiting so patiently for me to finish this. Hope it was worth the wait.

Chapter five

As exhausted as Felicity felt, once she was lying in bed sleep remained elusive. Her brain wouldn't shut up and she even tried some breathing techniques to breathe herself into a state of calm (which didn't work). A part of her really wanted to talk to Oliver. On nights like these she could usually count on him to distract her. If he needed to be at the club, they'd talk in the foundry underneath it. If he could sneak away they'd go to the diner, talking over burgers or shakes.

Oliver wasn't very good at comforting; his gruffness and awkwardness with emotion made him pretty terrible at it actually. But he was always sincere and willing to listen. Even though they sometimes found themselves on opposite ends of the moral scale, he always tried to see things from her perspective - even if it did require her yelling at him first. And he found her rambling endearing rather than annoying, even months into this partnership.

Sometimes they didn't talk much at all. Early on, it had become clear to her that Oliver communicated best with silence, with gestures and with his eyes. And she'd learned to pay attention to that. She wasn't good with silence though, but he never rebuked her when she called, no matter what the time.

Felicity had her phone in her hands before she'd even consciously made the decision to call him and she set it back on her night stand with a wince. Oliver had other people to take care of right now. She considered calling Diggle for a moment, guiltily remembering the missed calls. She dismissed the idea though and reached out once again to her nightstand. She turned on the instrumental music playlist on her iPod at a low volume and contemplated the ceiling, trying not to think about anything in particular.

Walter's hand squeezed hers weakly, cold even through her glove. His eyes were glassy and unfocused and the blood stained his chin as he tried to speak.

Walter's hand went limp, dropping from her grip as her monitor screamed.

Walter was laid out on the bench, his eyes frozen open and she reached out to tug the blanket up over his face.

The wind whipping around her was cold and went right through her clothes. She wished she weren't alone.

Felicity turned around to head back to the van and she was facing a row of benches. Neatly lined up forming a path to the open back doors of the van.

Diggle was laid out on the one closest to her. Dressed as always in a tie and suit jacket, but his shirt was stained red with blood and his head was at a bad angle. His arm was hanging limply off the side of the bench, his gun still grasped in his hand.

Roy was laying on another bench, half propped up against the back rest like he'd slowly sagged downwards. There was a needle in his arm and another jutting out from his neck. His skin was pale and translucent and there was an expression of manic glee on his face.

She stared at them in horror as her feet seemed to keep moving of their own accord, up to the next bench where Helena was lying. She was face down on the bench, her hair obscuring her face, but the bullet holes in her back were easy enough to make out. Her hands were stained red, blood slowly dripping from her fingers.

The van was right in front of her and all Felicity wanted was to run and climb inside. Away from all this horror and death. But there was one more bench and she walked up to it, stumbling as she caught sight of the person lying on it.

It was Oliver. She'd known it had to be, that it couldn't be any one else. Black arrows had been shot into his chest and his eyes were frozen open, his expression contorted into a grimace of pain. He was dressed in jeans and a sweater that had once been green but was now stained brown with dried blood. His bow was nowhere in sight – he'd never stood a chance.

Everyone was dead.

She was crying. Hot, angry tears rolled down her face as she stared at her team, lined up neatly on their benches. Dead and gone. She'd failed them all.

No. Please no.

"NO!"

Felicity woke with the sheets twisted around her legs and torso, a hand reaching out to

nothing and a scream dying on her lips. She was shaking and sweating and her face was wet. She pushed away the covers and pulled her knees up to her chest, burying her head in her arms as she tried to breathe and calm her pounding heart.

It wasn't real. They weren't dead. Oliver was fine. Diggle and Roy were fine. Helena was alive and kicking. Walter… Walter they'd lost.

Felicity swallowed, scrubbing at her eyes. That part was real. She glanced at her alarm clock and squinted at the red numbers. Well, six thirty was as good a time a to be getting up as any, she thought as she slid out of bed.

At work she once again closed her office door and tried to block out the world. Walter's death was all anyone could talk about and she had no interest in hearing the speculation. It was almost one o'clock in the afternoon and she'd been munching on a sandwich when there was a knock on her door and her supervisor poked his head inside.

"Ah, Felicity," he said as he stepped fully inside, "I read your report. Any progress on tracking the hack?"

Felicity sat up straighter. "Nothing yet." She admitted. "They were very good."

Tim cocked his head, "That report came in pretty late though. Were you here all day yesterday?"

Felicity fidgeted uncomfortably. "Just trying to get to the bottom of things."

Tim nodded. "Well, how about you take the rest of today off then?" he suggested. "You can swap the hours for yesterday."

Felicity shook her head. "That's not necessary." She assured him.

"Not a request." Tim answered almost apologetically. "You look a little ragged. I don't want my best employee getting sick because she can't take a break."

Felicity scowled. "I'm fine." She insisted.

Tim frowned at her. "Take the day." He said sternly. "In fact take tomorrow too and make it a long weekend. I don't want to see you until Monday."

Felicity stared up at him. "You're kicking me out?" she said incredulously.

"No," Tim answered, "I'm giving you some well-deserved down time." His eyebrows rose. "Let's face it, I could send you home for a week and it wouldn't make a dent in the overtime you've got saved up." He pointed at her. "Go home."

With that, he turned around and exited her office, leaving Felicity silently fuming. This was absolutely ridiculous. Tim had never complained about the hours she made before. She was the best person on his team and he knew it. Sending her home was so out of character that she seriously considered going after him for a moment. Voices carried close to her door then and she stilled, waiting to see if someone needed IT-support. She heaved a relieved sigh as they passed her by.

On the other hand, it wasn't like she actually wanted to be here right now.

With that thought Felicity shut down her computer and gathered her things, gladly leaving the gossiping office behind. When she arrived home she dumped her stuff on the table and then stood there indecisively for a long moment.

Now what?

She'd planned to distract herself with work but that was impossible now. She was not ready to go through the police report of their mission and she couldn't continue her research into anything related to it from here. There was a strict 'keep compromising activities confined to the foundry' rule. Hacking the police department from her home computer was on the fence, but anything more was just reckless. But she needed to do something. Sitting still and letting her thoughts run wild was not an option.

Out of alternatives, Felicity changed into her rattiest set of clothes, turned up her 'kicking ass' playlist to loud and began meticulously cleaning her apartment. She vacuumed the carpet, scrubbed the bathroom and the kitchen, cleaned out her fridge and cupboards, and then sat down to reorganize her bookshelves. And she had a lot of books.

The whole thing took up most of her afternoon and by seven pm her apartment was spotless. Felicity ordered food from her favorite Chinese place and then took a quick shower. She ate dinner at her kitchen table, staring out of the window as the sky slowly turned dark. And then there really was no more procrastination possible.

She sat down behind her computer and reactivated her hack into the Starling City police department. There were several new files and she tried to figure out which would be the least painful. The report on the findings at the apartment structure were in and she opened that first. It was pretty basic, the police had been able to discern that money counterfeiting had been taking place there, and the fake art stored on the upper levels had also been recovered. There were also transcripts of the interviews with some of the goons they'd arrested.

Felicity opened those and read through them quickly, hoping someone had said something about their employer. Only four interviews had been held so far and they only mentioned Brickwell as their boss. Disappointed, she returned to the directory and stared at Walter's file. 'Like a band aid' she thought to herself 'just rip it off'.

She opened the file.

The coroner's report was clinical and precise. Somehow that made it easier to read. She could pretend it was just another report on another body, not someone she knew. Walter had died from edema, or blood pooling in the lungs as a result of his gunshot wound. There was evidence of physical assault, his ribs had taken a beating at some point, and his knee had been dislocated and badly reset. He'd been malnourished, they'd fed him only just enough to keep him alive. The skin around his wrists and ankles was chafed raw from repeatedly being tied down.

Felicity closed the report and swallowed hard. He'd gone through hell and it had taken them over a year to get him out. There was a link to another transcript and she clicked it open. She sat up straighter as she began to read. They'd interviewed one of the guys that had been guarding Walter and she skimmed the information quickly. It was unfortunately nothing they didn't already know. Walter was moved regularly, kept under constant guard and they had been under orders to kill him rather than allow him to escape. He didn't have any idea who his employer was though. He'd only ever seen him once and he'd been wearing a mask, black body armor from head to toe and wielding a bow and black arrows.

Felicity's hands went clammy on her keyboard. It wasn't a surprise to find that the Archer was somehow involved in this. Their goon didn't know if he was the mastermind or the muscle though and that was unfortunate. Because it was the question that had plagued them as well. Not that it really mattered in the grand scheme of things - he needed to be stopped either way. But they didn't have any idea who he was and so far each time that Oliver had faced off against him, it hadn't gone well. He'd made it out alive, but then again, so had the Archer. And usually considerably less injured than Oliver.

There was a reference at the bottom of the transcript and she clicked the link. It led back to the coroner's page and two autopsy reports. Felicity stared at the page and then returned to the transcript, reading the reference properly.

'Suspect was one of three subjects tasked with guarding W. Steele. For other two subjects see here.'

Felicity felt her stomach drop. The two men who'd jumped out of the window. The men who'd killed Walter. She went back to the coroner's page and quickly typed in Walter's case number. There were four autopsy reports cross-referenced to that case. Walter's and three others. The three guys Oliver had killed. She'd seen them go down. One of them had been standing right in front of her. She'd known it had happened, but with everything to do with Walter she hadn't really thought about it. Until now. Three men were dead. And her only thought at the time had been 'good'.

Felicity pushed away from her computer and got to her feet, stumbling to the bathroom. She felt like she was going to throw up. When did this happen? When did she become this person? At what point did she stop caring when people died right in front of her? He'd killed Walter and Oliver had killed him and they were better than that. Better than vengeance and retaliation and an eye for an eye. She was better than that. That was what she did in this team. She was the conscience.

Felicity opened the faucet and wet a washcloth under the cold tap, running it over her face. I used to be the conscience. She could hear her cellphone ringing in the kitchen but she didn't make a move. Now what? She peered into the mirror above the sink. When Oliver finally found the Archer he would kill him. Just like when Diggle finally found Deadshot. These were not people that would go the jail, that would stand trial. There was no arresting men like these and hoping the system would do its work. And she had accepted that. There was no talking them out of it and frankly, she wasn't sure prison could hold men like that.

She'd started making allowances a long time ago. There was a reason Oliver didn't want to be called 'hero'. Heroes didn't kill people. He was a vigilante. She was helping a vigilante. Every person he killed was on her as well. And that mattered. She'd always felt guilty, always been uneasy about that. But not this time. This time was different. These guys hadn't been like Deadshot or like the Archer. They hadn't been exceptionally well trained and deadly. They could've gone to jail. This wasn't a 'they have to be killed because it's the only way to stop them' kind of scenario. This was vengeance. And she was okay with that.

Felicity slowly straightened. It was time to add another notch to the list. Things had changed. She had changed. She sat down behind her desk once again and opened the bottom drawer, pulling out her list. The list of casualties. She stared at it for a long time. Three more lines needed to be added. And for the first time, she didn't care.

Later that night, Felicity entered the foundry armed with supplies. She'd stopped by the 7-eleven and bought a variety of snacks. Terrible and unhealthy, but they'd keep her going. She'd stared at the list for hours before she'd had the strength to pick up a pen. And since she was banned from going into work tomorrow, she might as well continue working here. It was passed midnight now and with the club open upstairs she had to use the side entrance, but it meant a shorter walk to her computer stations. The foundry itself was empty, but she hadn't expected any different.

Oliver was at home with his family and Diggle was probably with Carly. That was fine though. Felicity settled down in front of her screens and turned on her computers. A part of her wanted to continue looking into the apartment structure or Danny Brickwell, but she knew she couldn't put it off any longer. Brickwell was a dead end and the apartment structure would most likely be owned by a shell company. She'd have to sort it out eventually, but the police were onto Brickwell thanks to the raid and the apartment structure wasn't going anywhere. She needed to go through the head-cam footage.

There probably wouldn't be much that was useful on the footage from the fight, but Walter had tried to tell her something in the van. He might have said something important at some other point and she needed to go through everything from the moment Helena and Roy rescued him. Felicity took a fortifying breath as she pulled up Roy and Helena's footage. The video itself was shaky and dark, but she really only needed the audio. She took out her headphones and plugged them in to the computer, and then started the recording, closing her eyes to focus.

The sound was decent especially when she turned up the volume, but it didn't seem like Walter was saying anything. It was mostly panting and pained groans as they made their way out of the basement. She was so focused on listening for anything that the gunshots were a surprise and she jerked off the headphones on reflex. She closed her eyes and took a breath, willing her hands to stop shaking. This was going to suck.

An hour later Felicity had isolated two distinct parts of the audio. The first was a short conversation between Helena and Walter as they were trying to exit the basement, where Walter had tried to ask her to explain how Oliver was involved. The second was in the van when Walter had been trying to talk to her. She had both Diggle and Oliver's audio up and was trying to clean up the feeds to get the best version when her screen showed an alert.

Someone had just entered the security code for the door.

Felicity blinked at it in confusion and then looked at the time in the bottom of her screen. It was 2:36 am. Who was coming in at this ungodly hour?

She leaned back in her chair as footsteps pounded down the stairs. The steps faltered and then continued and a moment later Oliver came into view. He stared at her in obvious surprise.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Working." She said, waving at her screen. "What are you doing here?"

"I needed to get out of the house." Oliver admitted. "Thought I'd work out for a while."

Felicity nodded. "How's your family?" she asked hesitantly as she swung around in her chair to face him properly.

"Devastated." Oliver answered as he shrugged off his coat. He stared at her for a long moment and Felicity frowned.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

"I'm just surprised to see you." He said as he leaned against the table behind her desk.

"I know it's late," Felicity said, "but I couldn't sleep. Figured I'd make myself useful."

Oliver nodded, but his face was still pensive. "I haven't really gotten very far." Felicity continued. "I've been going through the audio from that night and I'm trying to figure out who owns that building to see if that'll get us anything. It's gonna take time."

Oliver hesitated. "That's not a problem." He finally said, but his shoulders were tense.

Felicity regarded him critically. "Okay, what's going on?" she asked. "You're acting weird. Do you want to be alone for a while, because I can leave?"

"No!" Oliver said quickly and Felicity stilled, staring at him in surprise. "I'm just,-" Oliver winced. "We've been calling." he said quietly. "Diggle's been trying to get a hold of you and you don't answer."

Felicity guiltily bit her lip. "I'm sorry." She said.

Oliver shook his head. "No, don't," he said, "you made it clear when you joined the team that you were only here until we found Walter." He shrugged helplessly. "We did."

"Yeah," Felicity said, staring at her hands, "right."

"Not exactly the ending we were hoping for." Oliver sighed. "So, I guess I just didn't think I'd see you here again." He said. "I thought you wanted out. That you were done."

Felicity shook her head. "No." she said quietly as she glanced at him. "Oliver the days of me leaving after we found Walter are long gone." She admitted. "We are far passed the time where I could walk away from this."

Oliver met her eyes. "So you're staying?" he asked. And God, did he actually sound hopeful? No, of course not. Anxious. He sounded anxious. "Or are you just trying to tie up loose ends and close Walter's case?"

"Like you said, Oliver - we're a team." Felicity said. "And how can I go back to my life knowing what I know? This is bigger than Walter, bigger even than your father's list. There are people trying to destroy the city and they don't care who they take down in the process. I won't let you face that alone."

Oliver nodded and some of the tension finally drained out of him. "I'm sorry about not picking up when Diggle called, I didn't think that you would assume…" she licked her lips. "I just needed some time…"

"Away from us." Oliver finished.

"No." Felicity shook her head. "It's not like that." She struggled for a moment, trying to put it all into words. Oliver waited her out and finally she had to admit it out loud.

"I failed."

Oliver stared at her in surprise. "What are you talking about?"

"Walter." Felicity said. "I read the autopsy report." She swallowed down her emotion. "They basically tortured him. And he never gave me up. He trusted that I would do something, that I'd get him help somehow. And I didn't. Nineteen months and now he's gone."

Oliver stepped forward. "That isn't your fault."

"I'm the only one that knew what he was doing." Felicity said harshly. "I'm the only one that knew why they took him. He counted on me and I failed."

Oliver crouched down next to her chair and covered her hands with his. "You didn't fail. You have been looking for him for months. We did everything we could to get him out alive."

"But we didn't." Felicity said.

"No." Oliver agreed. "I'm sorry."

"He didn't stand a chance. I know that." Felicity whispered. "From the minute he was abducted it was over. But we save so many people. We've beaten the odds so many times. I just wanted this to be one of them."

Oliver squeezed her hand lightly. "Me too." He said. "But that isn't your fault."

Felicity met his eyes and he gave her a small smile. "He wouldn't want you to blame yourself." Oliver said.

Felicity nodded and Oliver leaned back a little, taking in her expression. She wasn't sure what he could see in her eyes, but he frowned at her in concern. "What else is bothering you?" he asked gently.

Felicity froze. "Nothing." She said. "I'm alright."

Oliver narrowed his eyes. "Which is why you're here, instead of at home sleeping." He said.

"You're here." Felicity countered.

"I never said I was alright." Oliver replied. They stared at each other and Felicity looked away first, staring down at their hands. She didn't want to talk about this. She wasn't going to talk about it.

Felicity flinched and got to her feet. "I'm gonna make some more tea." She said.

"Hey." Oliver's hand on her arm stopped her before she'd taken more than two steps. He stepped up behind her, close enough that she could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. He ducked his head, "Talk to me." He said softly.

Felicity stared at the floor, trying to keep herself in check. "I'll be fine."

"Yes." Oliver agreed. "But you're not yet, and that's okay." He stepped around her and she resolutely fixed her gaze on his chest, avoiding his eyes. He grasped her other arm and then slowly rubbed his hands up and down her arms. "You're cold."

Felicity shook her head. "No."

"You're shaking." He pointed out and she was. Dammit.

Felicity pressed her lips together. He had been taking care of his mom and sister for the past few days and had come here to get away from that, to have a moment to himself. She'd already unloaded on him about Walter and that was more than enough. He carried so much guilt around. She didn't want to add to it. Just because he could carry the weight of the city, didn't mean he should.

"Felicity?" Oliver said softly.

"I just want some tea." She mumbled.

"Tell me what's wrong." He insisted.

Felicity swallowed. God, how would she even begin to explain? Everything. Everything was wrong.

Oliver took a breath. "If this is too much," he said quietly, "if you need to leave, then I won't stop you. I promise I won't ask you to stay." He cleared his throat as his voice cracked. "I won't ask for your help anymore, I won't drag you back into this. You deserve to have your life back."

Felicity gave a watery snort. "We are so far beyond that." She said quietly.

Felicity finally looked up at him. "I'm not that person anymore." She told him. "I haven't been for a while. The things we do, the things I've seen. There's a line, Oliver. And I crossed it about a mile back."

Oliver frowned at her in confusion as his hands fell away. "What do you mean?"

"You killed three people the other night. And I didn't care." Felicity said. "It used to matter to me. And it should. People's lives matter, they're important. We don't get to decide. But they killed Walter and I just didn't care anymore. They're dead and I didn't feel anything. So, there's no going back now."

Oliver looked stricken. "I'm sorry."

"Me too. But it's not your fault."

"I got you into this." Oliver said.

"And I chose to stay. I could've walked away at any time. I could walk away right now, but I'm not going to." Felicity said. "I'm staying because I might not be as good a person as I once was, but the things we do are good. Just because we're not heroes, doesn't mean we're not the good guys."

Oliver faltered. "I'm better thanks to you." He said. "A better person and a better friend… just, better." He flinched. "And I don't want that to be at your expense. I don't want to be the thing that drags you down."

"You're not." Felicity said. "I like that I make you better. I like knowing that what I do matters, that we're helping people. I knew there was going to be a price to pay. I knew there was a cost and I accepted that." She resisted a shudder. "It just hit home today, that's all." She added quietly.

Oliver cupped her cheek and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "I'm sorry." He whispered, "I never wanted any of this for you."

Felicity squeezed her eyes shut. "My choice." She said fiercely. "I am a part of this team. And I'm not going anywhere."

Oliver's thumb swept across her cheek, wiping away tears she was desperately trying to hold back. "Okay." He said quietly.

Felicity leaned forward until her forehead rested against his chest. She hadn't cried. For three days she'd kept it all in and she was exhausted. Oliver wrapped his arms around her and she could feel him press another kiss to the top of her head. And for the first time in days she felt like things might actually turn out alright again.

Felicity fisted her hands into his shirt and let the tears go. She cried for Walter. She cried for herself. She cried for all the people that were dead because of a stupid list. She cried for Oliver. She cried all her fear and worry and guilt out. She cried until there were no more tears.

And then she wiped her eyes and sat down on their old worn couch and blew her nose on Oliver's handkerchief. And by the time Oliver joined her with two mugs of tea she had put herself together again. They sat side by side, drinking their tea in silence. It wasn't awkward or silence. Just companionable silence between two people who don't need words to communicate.

Felicity started when Oliver carefully removed her cup from her slack fingers. She blinked, trying to focus, but he gently pressed her shoulder down onto the couch. "Shhh, go back to sleep." He whispered.

Felicity reached out drowsily until she snagged the sleeve of his shirt and tugged. "You too." She mumbled.

Oliver chuckled and a moment later he settled down next to her, wedged between her and the back of the couch. "Fine."

"Might kick you." Felicity mumbled as Oliver tugged a blanket up over their legs.

Oliver huffed a short laugh against her neck. "I will shove you off this couch if you do."

"I will blow up your computers." Felicity threatened sleepily.

Oliver draped an arm around her waist. "Sleep." He whispered.

Felicity entwined her fingers with his. "Kay." She murmured.

In the morning she'd finish going through the audio files. Well, later in the morning anyway. And she'd look into the apartment complex's mysterious owner. And she'd tell Oliver about the Archer's involvement. And they'd keep looking and keep on trying and keep on fighting. And they'd win some battles and sometimes they'd lose.

But for that moment, for the first time in three days… she and Oliver slept.

The End.

Concluding notes:

Several people have asked me if Felicity was in love with Walter… Oh my God, NO!
I didn't think the story read like that, but since I got the question from different people, apparently I did something wrong. What I was trying to portray (and hopefully explained in this chapter) was Felicity's guilt. She feels responsible for what happened to Walter and for not being able to find him sooner.

Oliver's reaction to her was because he thought that once they found Walter, she was leaving. When he realized she'd been keeping count of the months and weeks he thought she wanted out.

I actually have an interlude from Oliver's point of view half written… that should explain some of what's going on through his head. No idea when and if that'll be posted. I need to start writing my thesis… but I do my best work when I'm procrastinating on my actual work, so who knows! (There's also an entire part two of this universe, but let's not get into that.)

Thank you all kindly for reading and reviewing and following and favorite-ing and waiting. ^_^