Of Arrows and Ponytails

34. Questions, Suspisions, and Answers

  
After Connor had fallen asleep at Thea's, Oliver took his motorcycle to the lair. From what Connor had said, Oliver was expecting to find a body, but when he walked into the room there was no body in sight. Instead, there was blood smeared on the operating table and several bloody tools lying next to a broken arrow.
  Oliver narrowed his eyes and stared at the scene for several minutes before finding a cotton swab and mopping up a drop of the blood. Felicity had taught him to analyze blood with their new technology that she had insisted on getting. Once put in the machine, the gadget would search through various databases, criminal and otherwise, until it found a match.
  Oliver put the swab into the machine, knowing that he would have to wait a several hours or even days until a match was found. Oliver was exausted when he arrived back at Starling City General. He sank into a chair next to Felicity's hospital bed and fell into a deep sleep
   When Oliver woke up Felicity was just getting up to dress. "They just released me," she said. Oliver stifled a yawn and got up to stretch, "Good," he answered, moving to kiss the top of Felicity's head. Felicity was very quite on the drive back to their apartment, she seemed lost in thought. Oliver opened the door to their apartment and told her to go lay down while he got her painkillers and antibiotics  and some  water. Felicity complied, crawled into the large king sized bed, and snuggled under the duvet.
  Soon Oliver returned with a tray bearing her medications and a glass of water. Felicity took the pills with a gulp of water and settled against the pillows. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong now?" Oliver asked sitting on the edge of the mattress. "What makes you think anything was wrong, I mean I think would tell if something was wrong, that's not true I'd don't always do that but-" Felicity babbled.
"Fe-lic-ity," Oliver said, dragging out the syllables of her name.
    Felicity sighed and put a hand to her head," I think I know who the guy dressed in black was, I don't think I know I do know."
"Felicity, who was it?" Oliver asked.
  " It was him, it was my Father," Felicity answered fearfully.
" How do you know?" Demanded Oliver.
"Do you think I don't learn to recognize and fear the figure of my own father who constantly abused me?" Felicity snapped.
Oliver jerked as if he had been slapped. "Abused you?" He asked.
Felicity realized what she had said and tears started escaping her blue eyes. "Felicity, sweetie, look at me," Oliver requested. Felicity slowly lifted her eyes to look at Oliver. Oliver's cool blue eyes stared back at her.
     Oliver gently grabbed her face between his calloused hands and asked,"Why didn't you ever tell me?"
Felicity looked down at her clasped hands," It's not a nice thing to talk about," she replied, quietly.
  "Felicity, you can bring anything to me, you know that," Oliver said.
"I know," Felicity answered," but it isn't easy to talk about."

Felicity moved her hand to clasp Oliver's hand and she began to talk. " I don't have any good memories of my father, the first memory I had of him was him slapping my mom, the next morning she had a bruise on her cheek but she was always strong for me. One morning I woke up and found my mother wasn't at home. A neighbor who stayed with me explained that she had called down the stairs during the night and broke her ankle in two places. Right then I realized that she had not fallen but was pushed, no one could find my father. He came back almost a month later, he had changed, he was much, much worse. My mother never left me alone with my father, if she had to work she would arrange a sleepover at grandma's or at one of my friend's houses. One night, the friend who I was staying with got the stomach flu and I was sent home. My father was there, he was in the worst mood I had ever seen him. I poured a glass of milk and spilled some on the counter. He swore at me and slapped my cheek. I remember being so shocked that I dropped the glass. He let his anger go and started beating me. I screamed and whimpered but he kept going. The next morning I couldn't get out of bed to go school. My mother sat with me all day, tears flowing from her eyes, one black and blue. Not more than two weeks after my father came into my room, while I was sleeping and started beating me again. My mom heard my cries and tried to stop him but then he turned on her. The next morning my mother packed us in the car and we left. She got a job in Vegas and did her absolute best to raise me, but I'll never be able to forget my father."
    
  Oliver gathered Felicity into his arms and kissed her over and over, murmuring into her hair. Felicity clung to him crying into his chest. When the sobbing had subsided, Felicity moved away from the pillows and lifted her shirt off. She took Oliver's fingers and guided them to a two inch scar right on her spine. Oliver's fingers caressed the area of raised skin, then he lowered his head and kissed the scar. " Felicity, without the scars you have you wouldn't be who you are today," Oliver murmured, moving to kiss her shoulder. 'Neither would you, Oliver," Felicity answered. " You wouldn't be the man that I love," she said, softly. Oliver lips captured her's in a heated kiss. When he pulled away, he said against her lips," I love you, Felicity."