Prompt by varentain: Sara takes Felicity on a road trip for a few weeks only for her to convert Felicity into a leather wearing crusader in front of Oliver.
I am so, so sorry for taking as long as I did! I cannot thank you enough for sending the prompt. I did take some liberties with it, so I hope you don’t mind. :)
Felicity kicks the dirt, watching it dissipate in the air and not carrying about the spectacle she’s giving to other drivers on the highway. It’s dry outside, as it always is in Arizona, and to make matter worse she’s wearing a thick leather jacket with black boots. She’s pissed. She doesn’t know if she’s about to cry in sadness or frustration, but there’s a storm brewing in her chest, a rising inferno ready to unleash itself.
"I hate you," she grounds out. Pieces of her hair land on her mouth and she can almost hear Sara say You’re cute. Felicity hates it when Sara writes off her issues as quick as that.
Things are different, though.
"I know," she responds softly. Her jaw is set tight but her eyes soften considerably. She’s sad and exhausted too, and Felicity doesn’t know why they continue with this. It cracks her bones and leaves her breathless in the worst of ways. She hates being this way, but she’s so lost, especially since —
Holding back her tears she spits out, “Then why bring me out here? I — I don’t want to be you.” Feeling her skin burn and itch in rapid succession, Felicity unzips her stupid jacket, turning around and promptly throwing it in the air. It doesn’t go far, but as soon as it lands by her she steps over it, her emotions finally threatening to spill over.
She faces Sara and vehemently says, “I never wanted to be you. Or —” She takes a sharp breath and readjusts her brain, shoving that particular thought aside. It hurts too much. “I never wanted this.”
"I know you didn’t," Sara replies. The retched motorcycle they’ve been traveling on shifts when Sara gets off. As she walks toward her the ground beneath protests, the rocks crunching under her feet. She keeps a safe distance from Felicity, wary of her reactions. "You can’t even say his name, Felicity.” She throws her hands in the air, soaking in the California sun as she thinks of something else to say. “There’s a way —”
She’s had it. “A way to what? A way to get over it?” A torrent of tears spring forth and she angrily brushes them aside, her glasses slipping and landing on the bridge of her nose as she does so. Her hands have begun to shake, and that one particular lump is pushing its way up to the surface. Her breath hitches and she breathes in deeply, an old trick to put her tears aside. But it’s not working and her lip trembles, and her vision blurs as she’s falling headfirst into heartache and realization.
"Fuck Sara, he’s gone! Gone. And you — you brought me here to become you and him. I don’t want that! I don’t want any of it!" she cries. "What did you think was going to happen? That I would want to become a vigilante too?" Her friend’s face watches her in cool — but careful — detachment.
She paces back and forth, agitation running through her. All this time she’s put up a strong farce, hoping whatever emptiness she felt would go away in time. And stupid, stupid Sara whisked her away on a trip with the intention of making Felicity one of them.
She doesn’t want to be them. Ol — He’s dead because of the life he chose, the life Sara wants for her, Felicity, Dig and Roy to continue. He’s dead because of Slade, and instead of letting her go through the mundane motions of everyday life Sara snatched her up and brought her in the middle of a desert. Slade is dead too, and there’s not outlet for her anger and sadness. It’s been sitting here, festering for so long and —
"I never got to say goodbye."
Every fiber of her being breaks, splitting off into a thousand tiny pieces, and she feels utterly weak and small, standing there while huddling herself. Abruptly Felicity feels Sara wrap her arms and she sobs onto her shoulder, the warm air relentlessly drying her tears away, the sound of cars whizzing by drumming in her ears. She’s embarrassed but she clutches onto Sara, images of her time spent with Oliver flooding her mind and never ceasing to stop.
For a long time she pretended none of it happened — the city burning, the screams echoing off the buildings, his final breath — and for a while she was able to put it aside. After the funeral Felicity finally had a break from heroic things, but no matter how many lies she told herself a piece of her was missing. Is missing.
He’ll never come back. He … Oliver is dead. What they started was only the beginning, and now he’s just gone, leaving an unfinished legacy for them to carry on. She thinks, perhaps, Oliver never wanted her to be a part of it. It was clear he appreciated what she did for him, but one thing this idiotic road trip taught her is that she’ll never be one of them.
But their job is unfinished. Her time spent with him is unfinished and it fucking rips her apart. Starling City meant so much to him, and he’ll never get to see his beautiful city rise once again. He meant so much to her, and whatever they had — what could have been — will never happen. But oddly enough, her time spent with huddling in the foundry made Starling City her responsibility, too.
"We’re not done," she mutters under her breath.
Slowly Sara pulls back, her hair flying against the wind while her blue eyes rage. They’re brewing with intensity. “No, we’re not.”
Felicity sniffles. “I’m … I’m furious that he’ll never get to finish what he set out to do.”
She’s startled by the amount of heat behind her words. A freezing sensation wafts over, coating her skin and causing her to shiver. Felicity realizes she’s feeling calm, something she hasn’t felt in a long time. She hasn’t felt anything in a long time, actually. But her tears stop flowing and she looks out into the burned earth, her heart slowly thumping beneath her chest, reminding her that she’s alive and she has a job to finish.
"Felicity," Sara starts gently. She cups her face with her hands, her rough motorcycle gloves scratching her skin. "I don’t want you to learn how to kill or go out in the field like I do. But I want you to learn it’s not going to be the same anymore. This isn’t a setback." She drops her hands and sighs, her shoulders rolling back. Sara now stands tall and dangerous, her blue eyes glazing over with practiced rage.
And somehow, Felicity’s starting to feel the same.
"We’re gonna raise hell on them. On the people who think they can tear innocents apart for the sake of personal enjoyment. We’re gonna take our city back.
"We’re going to purge the city of any evil doing, and we’re gonna do it good." Felicity swallows thickly but she watches Sara with fascination, entranced by her words. "We are going to clean the streets, get rid of the greed, and we’ll live by his code. Because in order to truly make a difference, we have to be something they’re not.
"We’re going to make him proud, Felicity. And I want you to join me."
She finds herself nodding with a simple yes, and while she clutches onto Sara as they ride along she starts to feel something at the pit of her stomach. It blossoms and leaves her full. She doesn’t know what she’s feeling until they stop at a dingy motel, and when Felicity goes outside and stares at the stars, she finally realizes what it is: