One Word
Short little drabble that came to mind yesterday, because now they’ve given us the potential for something like this...well maybe not my extra little add, but it’s my fic so I can have my secret marriage.
A03 - https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964951
“Take him and get out of here!” The demand is harsh but quiet through the earpiece.
My jaw locks and I let out a frustrated huff of air, pressing to activate my line, “I’m trying, but there are a thousand other people trying to go out the same exits, so this is as fast as we can go.” I grab William’s wrist and pull him over towards the staff access doors, “This way, there should be another-“
A gunshot roars through the room and time seems to drag.
Before anyone else can react exactly what Oliver wanted to avoid starts rolling into motion. “DAD!” William’s scream is piercing, and I look up in time to see Oliver’s hooded form freefalling for another second before grabbing onto the rope, favoring the side of his body where the Kevlar is exposed under shredded cloth. The asshole of the week narrows a calculated glare at us.
Son of a bitch! I practically drag him as he tries to stay rooted to the spot, “Move!”
“Who is this young man calling the Green Arrow, ‘Dad’?” Of course the press wouldn’t miss that, would they. I hit at the camera shoved into our faces, pulling him tighter.
“Keep your face covered, don’t say anything to them. You have to move now!” I can feel his shoulders shaking and weaving us past more of those stupid vultures I dip my head down and whisper into his ear, “He’s fine, he caught the rope, you’ll see him in a couple hours. I swear it to you, but we have to get out of here so he can stop worrying about us as much as we worry about him and focus on what he’s doing.” My concern is split between the man who I know can take care of himself and the young man who is rightly terrified that he’s going to lose another parent.
“Felicity Smoak, is this your son?” I don’t answer, just shed my coat so William can drape it over himself as I demand. “Is he the Green Arrow’s child as he claims? What’s your name son?”
A service elevator is two doorframes and forty feet in front of, if the design of this place makes any sense, us as they follow. “Get the button.” He dashes ahead and presses, clicking sounds like a gamer reach back here while I block the press from following us with the door.
A chime, “It’s here!”
“Where should we go?” I demand into the earpiece.
“Up!” “Down!”
Come on guys! “Someone give us an escape!”
“Go up, you can go two buildings over on the scaffolding then the van will be around the corner.”
I knock over a cart as I dash into the elevator cab, William is frantic at the close door option, with the addition of my one press of the top floor button. The camera guys trip but one reporter almost makes it, the doors barely sealing before he can get in.
“Dam-!“ Wait, young ears! “Darn it!” My attempt at recovering is weak.
His hair, grown shaggy in the past couple months hangs down over his eyes as he stares at the floor, “I’m sorry.” There are tear tracks down his cheeks.
“Oh, no, no-no-no, not you! You’re doing great, we just need to get away from here before anyone catches up.” We make it across and down, though I have to ditch the heels after they catch in the metal grating and I don’t have time to focus on being careful.
True to form, Oliver shows back at the new, spare, Arrow Cave an hour later, bruised but relatively unharmed. He strides in fast, looking around. “William?!” We all point in the same direction and he is met halfway there in a crushing hug. “Are you hurt?” He already knows the answer, having been on the comms with us as soon as he had a chance and then after getting the necessities out of the way spending the whole his ride back here on the line with William.
The kid just shakes his head, the muffled response not intended for us, nor are the reassurances Oliver gives.
We are going to have a problem though. A big problem. The feed was live, and already it’s taking off on social media. Now there’s speculation that not only is he Son of the Green Arrow, but they’re also taking my proximity and defensiveness to be that I, accurately, am helping the Green Arrow, and just as worrying, though inaccurate and offensive, that he is the Bastard Love Child of Felicity Smoak and the Green Arrow. The dedicated have even started trying to mock up what “his father” would look like based on the blurry image they got of him, removing my features and combining them with the few questionable captures of Oliver’s masked and hooded face. They’ve already tried combining my face with Oliver, and Ray, trying to see if either of those match. They don’t. Thankfully.
I can see from the building feed that they’re already circling my building and my home, just waiting for the possibility that I might return there tonight. “No Mom. Mom, no. No! That is a terrible idea.” I roll my eyes at the ceiling, tempted to hang up and blame the connection. “You think they won’t be showing up at your doorstep next?” She doesn’t listen, just continues to try and convince me to bring William out to visit her, or let her fly in. Thank all the secrets in the world that she doesn’t know that at this point he’s my son…step-son…family. He doesn’t either so I can’t quite figure out how to refer to him in my mind without mixing it up because we’ve never talked about what he would want me to call him. He just lost his mother, he doesn’t need to think of me as the person swooping in to steal that position in his life, he’s having a hard enough time finding out Oliver is his hero.
Who would have thought one three letter word could threaten to expose Oliver as the Green Arrow, that he has a secret child, and that we’re married?