#i had considered going back to add context but then didnt bother </3

[overwatchandarrow]

some context:

i revisit the legion of doom au set out on legends of tomorrow 2x16, but alter it so its set in the future

in the show, sara and amaya take felicity but that didnt exactly work in my thing so we just pretend its random henchmen

its been a while since i posted fic (thus the tumblr and not ao3 thing)

warnings for major character deaths. but we already know how this world ended.

They’ve fought bad guys before. They’ve had moments where it seems like it may be impossible to win but they always find a way.

But then Damien Darhk comes back.

It makes no sense, he should be dead. But he’s back, and somehow stronger than before, with an army that seems impenetrable.

This time, the lives he takes rise exponentially.

It’s all hands on deck for this one, which means their friends in Central City were called for backup.

Barry and his family were the first to go.

It sent them all into shock, and for the first time Felicity had to consider their team of superfriends may not be successful this time.

Cisco followed in Barry’s footsteps not long after.

When Damien Darhk took the Mayor’s office and gained control of Star City, Oliver insisted that there was still a way to fight this and win.

After Rene and Dinah’ funeral, they started to make contingency plans and arranged safehouses.

The day they buried John Diggle, Felicity knew for certain that this was not a battle they could win, only prolong.

The night of his funeral prompted Oliver and Felicity to have an important conversation about their now uncertain future.

They’re sitting in their room. It’s sometime past 3 in the morning, but neither of them even bothered to try and sleep. They lie on the bed, facing each other and hands intertwined tightly.

“If anything happens to me, Felicity,” Oliver finally says, his voice is gravelly and she can see in the faint light that his eyes are tired, “You pack a bag, you take William and you run. Go to the other side of the planet if you have to, I don’t care.”

“Oliver,” Felicity starts to prop herself up on her elbow, but he shakes his head.

“I mean it, Felicity,” he insists. “None of it. Don’t look back. Don’t open that box in our closet that I know Cisco sent you months ago. Leave this place behind.”

She doesn’t agree. She doesn’t even want to entertain the idea of ever losing Oliver, much less what she would do without him, but she nods anyway. And rests her head back against the pillow. Wordlessly, he reaches out and pulls her in close to his side, tracing his hands up and down her arms as if to try and commit the feel of her to memory.

Two weeks after that conversation, Felicity finds herself as a widow.

It happens all too fast. It’s just him on the field, just her on the comms, and as they’ve gotten older it’s just not enough. Darhk’s army is too powerful for them now. The last thing she hears is a small gasp – “I’m so sorry, Felicity,” before a sickening sound she doesn’t want to identify.

She doesn’t need to look at the security cameras she hacked to know her husband is gone.

The funeral comes a few days after that.

After burying all her friends for months, Felicity thought she would be numb to the pain by now. And to an extent, maybe she is. She doesn’t cry as her husband’s body is lowered into the ground. She holds her stepson, who at sixteen has long surpassed her in the height department but still leans his lead on her shoulder.

William.

If she can’t feel anything for herself right now, she feels for him. The boy who lost is mother and now his father, has no more relatives he can call his own blood. He’s just a boy, but she can see as he accepts condolences that he’s stepping into a different role, forcing himself to grow up all too soon, all because of the cards life has dealt him.

In that moment, Felicity feels.

It’s not the grief she should probably be feeling right now.

It’s anger.

Anger at the unfairness of circumstance for William, a kid who doesn’t deserve to lose everyone.

Frustration at how it’s been years of watching her friends die, and being absolutely hopeless to stop it.

For the first time all day, Felicity realizes what she’s been feeling.

She’s furious, and she wants to find Damien Darhk to take him apart limb by limb herself.

She’s done losing to him.

The car ride home is quiet. Felicity drives back on muscle memory alone, because her thoughts are far too preoccupied with something else.

William goes into his room without another word. He doesn’t stick around for dinner, and she doesn’t ask. She knows meals will just seem empty now that they aren’t made at Oliver’s hand. And though their fridge is sufficiently stocked with casseroles from kind neighbors and concerned coworkers, she doesn’t feel like eating much either.

Instead, she walks into their – her – room and pulls the door open to thei – her – walk in closet.

The scent of his cologne, sandalwood and something, hits her a little harder than she expects, and for the first time all day she feels her throat get tighter, but she pushes the feeling away.

She finds a box, hidden in her collection of winter jackets and pulls it out. She hasn’t touched it in months, but it’s been on her mind for a while now. she pulls the lid apart and pulls the coat out.

Black leather, with purple lining. A space on the sleeve where she can add a small bit of hardware she’s been quietly designing for weeks. The matching mask sat in her work desk for weeks – the only place Oliver could never find it – and she moved it over yesterday. It sits in her bag.

For a long time, Felicity just stares at the suit, holding it up in front of her until her arms start to ache. Oliver’s words from the night of Diggle’s funeral float through her mind. It’s not the outcome he would have wanted for her, or one that she would have wanted for herself, if she’s being honest, but it’s necessary.

She’s so lost in contemplation, apparently, that she doesn’t hear the footsteps approaching.

When William’s shadow falls over her, she drops the outfit back into its box.

When she looks up, her stepson looks resigned.

“You’re going to go out there,” he says. It’s not a question, like he already knows he can’t stop her.

For the first time all day, her eyes fill with tears. “I have to.”

“You don’t.” he insists. He points to the duffle bag sitting on the other side of the closet, one that Felicity and Oliver had made just last week. “We could find another way.”

She’s shaking her head before he finishes speaking, rising to her feet as she does. “I need to stop him,” her voice shakes. “I need to – to save this city.”

“You don’t have to,” the boy insists. His fist clenches at his sides. “You don’t owe this city anymore.”

“He took everything from me,” the first tear finds its way down Felicity’s cheek. “I have to stop him.”

“He’ll take your life too.”

“I need to try,” she insists, “How could I live with myself, knowing I let all my friends… all of my family die fighting just so I could run away somewhere?”

“And what about me?” William asks quietly, and Felicity feels her heart crack just a bit.

The only reason she isn’t already out there, tearing through the city until she finds Darhk is the boy standing in front of her, with red eyes and still in the funeral suit that was just a little too short on the sleeves for his gangly figure.

She can’t leave William alone, but she can’t stay here either.

When she doesn’t answer, William crosses his arms and looks down, “You know, Dad would want –”

“I know what he would want,” Felicity stops him, and the words come out louder than she would have wanted. “But he’s gone. He left me – he left us here because he tried to do what we did for the last ten years, which was fight against evil. And I lost him – I lost him, when I told him my biggest fear was  –”

She has to throw a hand over her mouth when a sob escapes, and all the grief she should have felt for Oliver’s death finally comes to surface. Loud sobs shake through her body and she has to lean over when it makes her head spin. Her wedding ring presses into her mouth as she tries to gain some control of her emotions.

William stares at her, eyes wide, as if he doesn’t know how to handle her sudden outburst. She doesn’t blame him, she doesn’t know how to handle herself either right now.

When her breathing starts to even itself out again, he finally speaks.

“You have to go out there, don’t you?” he says.

“I’m so sorry,” Felicity says. Her voice feels heavy. “If I don’t – look, John sent off Lyla and the kids a few months ago, before all of this started. The address is in my nightstand. If I don’t come back, go there. Please.”

“You’ll come back.” William insists. “Promise me?”

Fuck.

She can’t.

“I promise.” The words feel like lead on her tongue.

When she pulls the leather over her shoulders, she feels like she’s dressing for her own funeral.

But she has to try.

xxx

All in all, she thinks she did pretty well for her first attempt at masked vigilantism. Shame that her first (and, reading her current circumstances, only) go at it didn’t allow for much margin for error.

She lasted all night, and really only one bad fall down a flight of stairs took her down before two women grabbed her by the black wig and forced her into the Mayor’s office that once belonged to Oliver.

It’s then that she finally finds herself staring down Damien Darhk, her first look at him since all of this started. She can see he still has a penchant for monologuing in that easy going, casual voice of his. Her eyes travel over to a shelf by his desk, where a familiar set of masks sit side by side.

There is so much she wants to say to this man, who took her friends, her family, the love of her life away from her. When he finally does come to a stop in front of her, all she can spit out is an icy “fuck you” that makes the woman behind her dig her knee into her back.

Worth it.

“My pest problem. Though, that term may be giving you vigilantes a little too much credit. Even a cockroach knows when to pack up and head out of dodge,” Darhk comments lightly.

“Star City is my home,” Felicity says, the grip on her is tightening and she’s not so naïve to know these are likely her last words, “And I will never stop fighting.”

Darhk only gives a bored smile “You will,” he looks over her head, “Kill her.”

Felicity doesn’t want to close her eyes, doesn’t want to give Darhk the satisfaction of knowing how much she fears this moment.

She sends a silent apology up to William, for failing him and leaving him alone once more.

The blonde woman’s hand comes down on her neck, and Felicity knows this is it.

The second last thing she can think of is that at least she died in a way that makes her feel proud.

And the last thing is that wherever she goes, she hopes she’ll see Oliver again soon.

#posting this here instead of ao3 cause i still dont exactly have my confidence back and i dont want to be caught up in the hit counts n all #um sorry if youre on mobile n it doesnt show up as a read more fdlfjdflkdd