Team Arrow drabble: Come down now
thenightsign replied to your post “Densi prompts? Or others?”
(Hi, guys! I want to put a warning here that I attempt to describe drug use and if that's a trigger, you may want to skip this one. Also, I have no real experience here so I'm piecing together what the show has told us and what I understand about hard drugs)
She doesn't have much time to panic.
"You trying to steal from me, pretty girl?"
Oliver's three floors away, dealing with the kingpin. Diggle is backing him up. This office was supposed to be empty, with the drug dealer's soldiers drawn to his defense.
Except, apparently, for the second-in-command. Oops.
"I just, uh, needed a hit." Felicity tries to sound breathy, needy, unconcerned. The flash drive is half-finished executing the program she loaded onto it. She tacks a giggle onto the end, and hears Diggle curse in her ear.
Rolf Holmm is as oily as his pictures suggest, but much larger. He's also pointing a gun and narrowed eyes in her direction.
"Funny thing is, I locked this door ten minutes ago," he says. "How'd you get in?"
"Ummm," she giggles again to cover the sound of the flash drive beeping its completion. Diggle and Oliver are yelling to each other via comms about who can reach her first. "I'm good with a hairpin."
Rolf reaches behind himself and re-locks the door. She takes advantage of his distraction and shoves the flash drive back into her bra.
He gestures with his gun to the locked cabinet at her back.
Felicity has no idea how to jimmy a lock with a bobby pin. But she pulls one out and turns to face the cabinet. It can't be that hard, after all she's read books on petty theft that suggest -
The needle feels like a bee sting. She actually swats at her neck. But then her entire body is burning, her vision swims, and Rolf has her pushed up against the cabinets with an arm to her throat.
"Shiiiiiit." Her tongue feels thick, swollen, and unresponsive. She knows how this works. Vertigo kicks in fast, takes you very high, and drops you hard. Pretty soon she'll be babbling about nonsense and totally unable to defend herself.
"Yeah, that's right. Look at that face, she knows what's coming," Rolf growls. "Who the fuck are you and how did you get through that door?"
His voice is scary, and she shrinks back, trying to get away from it. There are so many voices. Angry voices. Felicity claws at her ear and something falls to the ground. The voices quiet.
Rolf steps away to retrieve - focus, Felicity! Fight it - the comm she's just yanked from her ear. When he bends down, she knees him in the face.
Blood spurts from his nose and she giggles. It's so sparkly. So red and sparkly... shit.
She slaps herself a few times and the room slides back into focus.
"Fuck you, bitch!" Rolf reels back, curses flying. "I think you broke my fucking nose!" His gun is pointed at her again. As she watches, a tongue comes out of the barrel and licks his hand.
She backs away, but the desk is covered in barbed wire and the cabinet wants to eat her hair. There's no where safe. His words disappear into the howling wind of the tornado in the ceiling and Felicity sinks to the floor, screaming and covering her ears.
She wants to close her eyes, but the darkness is more scary than the way the floor tiles are melting, dripping slowly into the lava pit beneath them.
The gun has taken over Rolf's body, and is wearing his arms and legs and searching the room with its sticky pink tongue.
"Please, please, please, please," she whispers to the parrot in the corner. It's green and black, and looks friendly. "Please help me."
There's too much light, too much noise. Things are exploding around her. Burning, spinning, falling.
When the darkness reaches for her, she's grateful.
She wakes up on the cot in the lair to a buzzing in her head and echo-y, far-off voices.
"I still say we should take her to a doctor, Digg."
"And say what? She was dosed with Vertigo, but we have this home remedy, but we just wanted to check that she's ok?"
"I just don't like how long she's been out."
"We gave her a drip, there's not much else we can do."
Felicity forces her eyes open. Diggle is pacing in front of her, and Oliver is sitting in her chair. She glances at her arm and the IV needle carefully taped into a vein. Interesting.
"Oh my god, I just had the weirdest dream." She whispers, because her throat is scratchy and sore and honestly she might just go back to sleep. Every inch of her hurts.
Diggle's at her side in an instant, gently checking her pulse and not-so-gently shining a light into her eyes.
"Shit, Digg, ow, bright." Words are hard, her brain hurts.
He backs off. "I think she's finally coming down."
Then Oliver's there, pulling her up into a sitting position despite her vocal "no, really, I'm quite happy lying here" protests.
It's tea. The island kind. She's never had it before, but it does not smell appetizing.
"Felicity!" Diggle and Oliver speak as one. Apparently she's drinking the damn tea.
"So," she sips, "eww, this is gross." They don't look impressed. "What happened? Why was I dreaming of tornadoes and lava pits and a gun with a giant tongue? And I think there was a parrot."
Diggle looks amused at the last thought. Oliver grimaces.
"The Baron left his lieutenant behind to guard the office. He caught you, and dosed you with vertigo before we could reach you. You were in full blown hallucinations when I got there."
"And the parrot was Oliver," Digg adds helpfully.
"Ah." She buries her face in her tea, processing. "How long?"
"It's been all night." Oliver's face tightens as he remembers. "We've been tracking your vitals, but he gave you such a large dose you passed out before I could get any of the island herbs into you."
He shoots a pointed look at the steaming mug in her hands.
"Right. Tea. Drinking." She sips. "Did you get them?"
They both look at her blankly.
"The... did you take down The Baron? The mission? Come on."
"Felicity," Oliver says slowly. "I'm not sure you understand. You've been either passed out or tripping out of your mind for the last 5 hours."
"We were a little busy," Diggle nods. "Besides, you didn't have a chance to get the blueprints for the warehouse on the docks."
"Which is fine," Oliver hurries to say. Felicity sips again, and ponders this.
Last night is very fuzzy, that's for sure. She remembers breaking into the office, and, was there a flash drive? OH!
"Like I'd let a little thing like almost dying of a drug overdose stop me," she mutters. Oliver and Diggle wear matching looks of confusion.
She sticks a hand gingerly down her shirt, her skin is sensitive right now. It feels like the aftermath of a bad fever. But the flash drive is right where she stashed it.
"Ta da!" She's so excited by their surprised faces that she attempts to jump up and go to her computer. She gets halfway there and realizes that she has no sense of balance. Oliver catches her, handing the drive off to Diggle.
"Ok, hero," he mutters, lifting her into his arms and walking back to the cot. "Can you stop making us look bad? Why don't you rest, and I'll be concerned, and we can let Diggle restore his honor by working on those plan."
He's warm and solid and the sound of his heartbeat helps the room stop spinning. Her eyes slide shut without her permission, and she feels him pluck the mug from her hand.
This time, the darkness is warm and safe.