Felicity's Fury and Oliver's Green Notebook

Chapter 1

Alright all this one is a short story. I read somewhere that Oliver's notebook would make Felicity forgive his lie so here goes. I hope you enjoy. I look forward to your reviews. Hold on all, this will be a great ride.

#####OQ#####

"Oliver, man, stop hitting the dummy, your hands are bleeding now. Oliver, can you HEAR ME? Listen to me," John yelled at him.

"I don't care anymore." He punched the dummy harder, aggressively, his knuckles a mass of bruises and bleeding freely as he completely embraced the pain, reached for the pain.

"STOP, you're destroying your hands." John reached to touch him, and he jerked himself back and away, gasping deeply, his fists up in a clear fight stance, as he took a swing at the man, at his friend, roaring the words, "Don't touch me. Don't you dare touch me." And he swung again.

Dig ducked and evaded his punches while stepping swiftly back as he held both hands palms up at him.

"Easy! Throttle back, Oliver. Rein it in, man. Look around. See the lair. It's John. Calm down."

His breath came in ragged gasps, sweat poured off of him in buckets, and he realized he didn't know how long he'd punched the dummy.

Dig said quietly, "Here, let me take a look at your hands, at least let me wrap them up. You're bleeding everywhere. What the hell are you doing punching the dummy like that without wrapping your hands up?"

"I don't care. My hands will be fine. Leave me alone, John. I don't want them wrapped. I want them to hurt." And he turned and attacked the bag again leaving blood stains with each punch.

"Oliver, you're losing it. I want you to take a step back right now and look at yourself. You're standing here bleeding. Look at the blood on the dummy. Take a real look at yourself, at what you're doing to yourself. You have to rein the rage in."

"I can't. I've already lost it, lost her. It doesn't matter anymore. I'm leaving, John, tomorrow. I'm done. She wants me gone. And I'm listening." With a vengeance, he laid into the dummy again as the pain fed the rage in him.

"STOP! You're out of control. Get control. You're destroying your hands. You have to STOP, and I mean now."

"I don't care." But he closed his eyes for an instant, forced himself to stop hitting the dummy, as his body shook and trembled.

When he reopened his eyes, John stood before him, his massive arms crossed in front of his broad chest, with an eyebrow arched. "Can we talk about this? You're leaving? Oh, now that's a good idea. Run from your problems, that'll win Felicity over."

"There's no winning her over. John, it's been six weeks. We've buried Laurel, and I've killed Merlin for her, just as she asked me to, and Hive's scattered to the wind and gone. The mission's over and now that we don't have the mission, she won't talk to me. She informed me today that we've nothing more to discuss, right before she called security and had me escorted out of the building, out of what used to be my company, out of what started as my father's company. Now, she's told me repeatedly to leave, and I'm done. I'm going."

And he attacked the dummy again, hitting it over and over, harder and harder, again and again, the blood from his hands staining the cloth red as he welcomed the pain.

"Oliver, think about your hands. You're trashing your hands. You have to STOP! And you just need to give her a little more time."

Grabbing the dummy, he held on tightly, trying to stop hitting. "Time's not helping. She's cut me off cold. She won't take my calls, and won't read my texts. Not only that, she's got an automatic reply now that says some unkind words if I e-mail her. I've tried to write her, and she ripped my letter up. She didn't even read it, just threw it in the trash in front of me, before she turned and walked away. She hates me."