Chapter Text
“Samantha, I know you want to protect William, but you have to tell him. It’s time.”
Hearing Felicity’s voice, Samantha looks up from the cement step and does a hard double take. Her pretty face is a puffy mess, and her hands are clutching her cobalt shorts so hard her knuckles are white. It’s definitely not her finest moment.
Samantha’s eyes widen as Oliver also steps out from the shadows of the building. His hands are in the pockets of his shorts, and his posture is slightly hunched. “Wh–what are you doing here?” she asks.
The door to the station wagon opens, and William puts one leg out, hesitating. Oliver steps in his direction but stops himself.
“He knows,” Felicity says quietly to Samantha. “You know he already knows. You can’t keep it from him. Why not just tell him?”
“Mom, what’s going on?” William says from the car.
Oliver looks from William to Samantha and back again. “Tell him,” he says. “Tell him, or I will.”
“Tell me what?” William asks. “Mom?” He pushes the door open fully and gets out of the Volvo.
Samantha takes a moment, evaluating her options. Finally, she shrugs Felicity’s hand off of her shoulder, and stands up, sighing loudly. “I didn’t want you to learn it this way, William,” she says, straightening her posture. “Oliver Queen is your father.”
>>--->
William takes this news like a champ. “I knew it!” he says, smiling. “I knew there was a reason you’ve been acting so weird and why we had to move away!” And then the other shoe drops. It’s one thing to kind of believe something and another thing to realize your biological father is standing right in front of you.
William’s face crumples. “If you’re my father, why didn’t I know that?” he asks Oliver.
There it is. The question Samantha does not want answered.
“William, I–” she says.
“I didn’t know,” Oliver says quickly before she can twist the truth. “I didn’t know about you until last fall. That’s when I started coming to see you.”
“Why didn’t you tell me then?” William asks. In his face Felicity reads the unasked question: Were you ashamed of me?
Oliver glances over at Samantha. “I wanted to tell you, but your mother thought that it would be better if we spent time together discreetly first. Because of my family.”
Williams frowns. “What’s wrong with your family?”
There was a loaded question. How could you even begin trying to explain the intricacies and dysfunctions of the Queen family?
“My family once had a lot of money and was very powerful, so they sometimes have been a target for bad people,” Oliver says carefully.
“But they’re not now?” William asks.
“My parents both died,” OIiver said. “My family still has money, just not as much.”
“And that’s why I was kidnapped this spring?” William asks.
“Yes. The man who took you - Damian Darhk - he didn’t want me to run for mayor,” Oliver says. “And he knew that if he took you, I would feel like I had to drop out of the race so I could keep you safe.”
“But Mom said that you are the mayor of Star City.” William looks confused.
“I am,” Oliver says, “but that’s because Darhk is dead. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
That seems to satisfy William, for which Felicity is thankful because she doesn’t want to have the conversation about how Oliver killed Darhk with William or Samantha. There’s no way for her to even begin describing what happened with Damian Darhk last spring without sounding like a raving lunatic.
William looks at Oliver, nodding his head toward Felicity. “And she’s here because she’s…your girlfriend?”
Oliver looks momentarily stymied, but then he rallies. “This is Felicity. She’s my–” He looks over to Felicity, and she nods at him. “We’re together, and I love her very much. I hope you will too.”
Felicity inwardly cringes. Her mother had had a lot of boyfriends, and she hadn’t liked most of them at all. “I would like to get to know you too, William,” she says, “but it’s up to you whether you like me. No pressure. You shouldn’t have to feel one way or another about me, just because I’m a part of Oliver’s life.” She smiles at him in an attempt to save all of this from being overwhelmingly awkward, and he gives her a tentative smile in return.
A short distance away, four teenagers burst through the line of cedars by the front office, laughing loudly. The bitter tang of pot smoke fills the air and they lurch across the parking lot giggling and pushing each other. The faint carnival music from the town square suddenly seems louder.
“Oliver, why don’t you take William to get an ice cream or an elephant ear?” Felicity asks. “I’d like to talk to Samantha for a bit.”
Oliver looks grateful - as well he should - to be left out of what’s coming. “Is that okay with you, William?” he asks. When William nods, he turns to Samantha. “Samantha?”
Samantha looks like she wants to shoot someone, but she gives a sharp nod. “Don’t go far. It’s already past his bedtime.”
“There’s an ice cream place just a couple of blocks away,” Oliver says. “We won’t be long, I promise.” He puts his hand on William’s shoulder gently, and the two of them sprint across the parking lot with identical strides, hurrying away from the explosion everyone senses is coming.
>>--->
The river she crossed earlier must pass near the Bellaire Inn because the croaking of frogs fills the silence. Felicity can see the mosquitoes swarming in the overhead lights. She opens her mouth to say something reassuring to Samantha who seems to be studying the cracks in the asphalt.
“What are you doing at my hotel?” Samantha jerks her head up.
“I, uh,” Felicity says, “we–”
“I’ll be honest. This feels like stalking,” Samantha says. “I told Oliver to meet us at 10 tomorrow morning. I didn’t even know you’d be here. I thought the two of you broke up.”
So much for the helpless doe act, Felicity thinks. Samantha, apparently, has claws. “Oliver asked me to come with him on this trip,” she says. “I think he was a little nervous about meeting William again. It’s not his fault we’re here, though,” Felicity confesses. “It was stuffy in our motel room, and I went for a run. Somehow I wound up here.”
Samantha looks unconvinced.
“I’m not stalking you. Or, at least, I wasn’t trying to stalk you,” Felicity says. “I guess I was just impatient for a resolution to this situation.”
“A resolution?” Samantha’s voice rises, and she gives Felicity a hard look. “What do you mean?”
A mosquito drills its way into Felicity’s elbow, and she swats at it, creating a bloody smudge on her arm. It’s still sweltering out, and her feet are killing her. “Look, do you think we could maybe go inside? The bugs are going to eat us alive out here.”
Samantha looks annoyed, but then she nods and takes out her key card out of her pocket. She opens the door to her room and gestures to an uncomfortable looking chair next to a nightstand. The cold air from the hotel’s fully-functional air conditioning unit hits Felicity so hard she gets goose pimples on her arms before she even sits down.
Samantha grabs the Iron Skillet takeout bag from the nearest bed, crosses the room, and places it carefully into the mini fridge. She picks up a pair of damp black and green Minecraft swim trunks from the bed closest to the bathroom, folds them, and puts them on the laminated dresser. Finally, she perches on the bed, away from the wet spot, leaving half a room between herself and Felicity.
“What resolution?” she asks.
So they were skipping the small talk. Okay. Felicity tries to psych herself up for this negotiation. It means so much to Oliver, but a not insignificant part of her wishes that Oliver had never run into Samantha in Jitters. They would be married now. Happy. And William’s biggest problem might be a bad sunburn. It could have been so different.
She takes a deep breath. “Oliver would like to be a part of William’s life,” she says. “A more regular part of William’s life.”
Samantha straightens. “What do you mean by regular? A few visits a year? He seems to have a very busy schedule.”
“No, not a couple of times a year. He wants William to know that his father cares about him. Oliver wants to know him better.” Felicity’s stomach, empty for hours now, takes this moment to groan in protest. She presses her fist hard into her abdomen. Shut up.
Samantha gives her an incredulous look. “I don’t think that’s going to work,” she says. “We’re living in hiding now, so I can’t see how having a famous person come to see William every few weeks is going to help us maintain a low profile.”
“I know, and I’m sorry about that, Samantha.” Felicity gets to her feet and walks to the foot of the bed. “We’re both really sorry. I know that Oliver never meant for William to be put in danger.”
“Put in danger,” Samantha laughs in disbelief. “He was kidnapped by a lunatic because someone found out he’s Oliver’s son. I can’t have that happen ever again.” She shakes her head as she stands up and begins to pace the space between the beds. “He almost died.”
“I could have helped Oliver keep him safe if I’d known William existed,” Felicity says. Because it’s true, and Samantha should know it.
She’s not listening, though. “Oliver is more like William’s sperm donor,” Samantha says. “My dad has been a wonderful grandfather to him. He’s been involved with raising him since William was born. You’ve seen how William’s doing - great. We’ve done fine on our own.”
“With respect,” Felicity says, “you didn’t give Oliver a chance to be anything but William’s biological father. Since you told him you miscarried.” She wobbles a little on her feet. She’s so hungry all of a sudden.
“I did that for William’s good.” Samantha points a finger at Felicity. “Oliver wasn’t exactly father material.”
“That’s not true,” Felicity says in a low voice. “You never gave him the opportunity to be anything more.” She thinks about all of the vitamins he’s coaxed into her in the past weeks. His foot rubs. Oliver has a Baby Countdown app on his phone now. How can Samantha say that?
“It is true,” Samantha says. She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ve known him a lot longer than you have. Oliver was…hot, of course, and larger than life, yeah. But he was a good time, and that was really it.”
Felicity blinks hard, and, for a moment, with the too-bright overhead light filtering through her eyelids, she literally sees red. She feels all of the rage she felt running over here. “He’s much more than that. You don’t know him.”
There are so many moments she could use to argue her point. Oliver carrying Thea’s nearly bloodless body from the plane in Nanda Parbat. Oliver on the roof of a yellow taxi, bellowing out hope and encouragement to the frightened people of Star City. Oliver tossing Baby Sara high up in the air, laughing as she squeals in joy and flaps her chubby arms to “fly.”
And there were those hazy, pain-filled days after the hospital, the hours he spent caring for her and getting her to eat. “I’ll make you some soup. I’ll make you anything you want. Anything, Felicity. Just please eat something. You need to build your strength back up.”
“I knew him pretty well,” Samantha says with a sneer. “He played rugby with my brother in college. I went to tons of their matches. Oliver had groupies, if you can believe it. The son of a billionaire. I know he’s different today, but back then he was basically a fuckboy.”
Felicity thinks of the gentle, steady pressure of Oliver’s hands as he changed her bandages. There are bullet scars on her hip, her abdomen, her right shoulder, and one - the most devastating - down down towards the base of her spinal cord, the finishing flourish of a violent exclamation point.
“Shh, shhh. This hurts, I know. I’m sorry,” he’d said every time. “The good news is that one day it won’t.”
Oliver has plenty of experience with wounds, so she let him reassure her. It felt nice. During those cold, pain-filled February days, it was the only thing that did.
Would a fuckboy do that?
“That’s not true,” Felicity vehemently denies it. Oliver’s five years away changed him, yes, but for him to become the man he was today, a part of him always had to have been exceptional.
“You didn’t know him then,” Samantha says. “Ask anyone from his college days.”
“I know him now. I know exactly the kind of man he is. Better than anyone.” That is true.
Samantha does not look convinced. “My concern has always been for my son. I can’t say I appreciate being ambushed at my hotel and forced to tell William something I could have better prepared him for.”
Honestly, the nerve of this woman. “You’ve had years to tell him the truth. Almost a decade.”
“He didn’t need to know,” Samantha says. “Oliver was dead for half his childhood, and by the time I knew that he was actually alive, we didn’t need him anymore.”
Felicity can’t imagine what it’s like to not need Oliver. Still she says, “William has a right to know who Oliver is and that he cares about him. Oliver wants to be his father.” Her stomach growls hard again. The fist-in-the-abdomen thing doesn’t seem to be working.
“Well, he didn’t want to be a father when I got pregnant,” Samantha says. “He didn’t want the responsibility. For anything.”
“Did you want to be a mother?” Felicity says defensively. “When you first found out?”
Samantha flinches as if she were slapped. “Of course,” she says, “I love William.” But it’s obvious she’s lying.
“Look, we don’t want to fight with you over William, but Oliver has legal rights,” Felicity says. “We obviously don’t intend to sue for custody, but–” She feels a little lightheaded, so she starts making her way over to the bed nearer the door.
“Sue for custody?” Samantha’s voice rises sharply, “You can’t sue for custody. Oliver’s name is not even on the birth certificate.”
“But a blood test will reveal the DNA connection,” Felicity says, sitting down gingerly on the bed, “and, more importantly, you accepted a million dollars of financial support from the Queen family. That indicates you knew who the father of your baby was.”
Samantha gives her a sharp look. “Yeah, we know about the money,” Felicity says. “You may not have cashed the second check, but you cashed the first.”
“I needed the money to provide a stable childhood for William,” Samantha says defensively. “And there were hospital bills. I had to be on bedrest for the last two weeks. William was premature.”
Felicity holds up a hand. “I don’t blame you for taking it or for not pursuing anything with the Queen family while Oliver was presumed dead, but that’s not the situation now.”
Samantha stalks over to William’s open suitcase on the dresser and begins to aggressively unpack it. “Why do you care so much?"
“I would prefer if we could discuss how Oliver will get to know William in a friendly way, rather than arguing about legal rights…” Felicity says, but the room around her starts to get fainter. “If Oliver had been thinking clearly last fall, he would have consulted a family law attorney…” She grabs for the headboard to keep herself from falling off the bed, but she doesn’t catch it in time and crumples on the floor. She doesn’t pass out, but it’s a near thing.
“A family law attorney–” Samantha says and then realizes what has happened. She rushes over to Felicity and tries to pull her up to a sitting position. “What’s wrong?” she asks. “Are you sick?”
“N-Nothing,” Felicity says. The room is still spinning. Why can’t she keep her thoughts straight? A minute ago she had Samantha right where she wanted her, about to secure Oliver’s access to his son, and now she’s…
“You’re pregnant,” Samantha says.
Felicity pulls off her glasses and tries to center herself there on the floor. It’s a tight space, so she can’t exactly spread out. “It’s…it’s fine,” she says to Samantha. Her voice is hoarse. “I just need a minute. Sorry.”
“Felicity, when was the last time you ate?”
“It-It’s been awhile,” Felicity says. “I mean, I did eat, but then I threw up twice. I think I had some yogurt?”
Samantha goes to the mini-fridge and takes out the Iron Skillet bag. She pulls out a plastic fork and a container with an absolutely gorgeous looking piece of cheesecake in it. She hands it to Felicity. “How far along are you?” she asks.
Felicity hesitates in taking the cheesecake because it seems like a confession, but who is she kidding here? That dessert needs to be eaten. “Almost 12 weeks,” she says, putting her glasses back on. “We haven’t really told anyone yet.” She thinks of Lyla. “Anyone who doesn’t need to know.”
“Pregnancy can be tough. And scary,” Samantha says, sitting down on the bed. “I wish I could say it stops being scary after they’re born, but…it doesn’t. I’m still always worrying about William. I just want him to be safe.”
Felicity carefully opens the clear plastic container and digs her fork into the cake. There’s almost no smell to it at all, and it tastes like ambrosia. She closes her eyes as she chews. It hits Felicity in a rush what this year must have been like for Samantha, her child kidnapped and the two of them forced to go into hiding to protect him. She must have plenty of sleepless nights worrying that it might happen again. Felicity touches her own belly. Next Tuesday they’ll have a photo of what this little guy - or girl - looks like. Nothing can hurt this baby, she thinks.
She opens her eyes. “The man who had your son this spring, Damian Darhk - he’s dead. Oliver put him down. He was very evil, so he really had no choice.” She takes another bite of the cake, a bigger one. Some of the dizziness is receding.
“I know,” Samantha says.
“I want to be honest with you, though. The man who took your son, his name is Malcolm Merlyn, and he’s still alive and angry with Oliver.” She rubs the palm of hand reassuringly over her stomach. “So, for now, I think remaining in hiding is best. I know that’s not been easy, and I can help you with your cover and provide you with additional security if you would like that.”
Samantha’s eyes widen. “Extra security? You mean, like, a bodyguard?”
“Yes, we can add an around-the-clock security detail, but I’m not sure that would be better than just continuing to fly under the radar. The best way for you to keep William safe is to stay in close communication with us. I can put a tracker in his shoes or in his backpack, so we could trace him if anything happened. I’m sorry I didn’t think of it before. I had my mind on other things.” A lot of other things.
Samantha shrugs awkwardly but looks relieved. “I can’t say I kept you in the loop. I did the opposite, and I’m sorry about that.”
“Oliver does care very much about what happens to William,” Felicity says. She thinks about the loft and how it hasn’t provided much protection at all against Darhk - or Ra’s al Ghul. “We will come up with something. We can protect him. I’m going to make solving this problem a priority.”
Samantha nods slowly. “Thank you,” she says.
“We’re not going to play hardball about a visitation schedule,” Felicity says, “but maybe we could meet every couple of months like this until I figure things out? It would mean a lot to Oliver. Believe it or not, I think he’s going to be a great dad.”
Samantha takes a moment to consider it. “I think…we could do that,” she finally says.
Felicity lets out the breath she didn’t know she was holding.
A banging noise comes from outside the room, and Felicity looks up over the edge of the bed to see that it’s Oliver and William. William playfully pounds on the hotel window, smiling and holding up his waffle cone. He gestures over towards the door and laughs. Samantha walks across the room and opens it, and there they are, two smiling faces, looking more alike than Felicity ever realized.
“Oliver and I have the same favorite ice cream!” William says as he pushes his way through.
“Mint chocolate chip?” Felicity asks.
“No,” William gives her a look of disgust. “Superman! It’s way better than mint chocolate chip.”
Oliver just shrugs and smiles at her. “Superman’s the best.” He puts his arm around William’s shoulder. “But I think your mom said it’s time for you to go to bed, buddy,” he says.
“Aw, really?” William says. Clearly he doesn’t want this time to end.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Oliver tells him. “At 10 AM, like your mom said. There’s an archery contest in the park, and I think we might be able to win it.” He turns to Samantha and gives her an imploring look. “Okay?”
Samantha’s eyes meet Felicity’s, and she nods. “I have a feeling you might,” Samantha says to Oliver. “We’ll see you in the morning.”
>>--->
Oliver and Felicity walk for several blocks, over a small stone bridge and towards the center of town again. “We should stop somewhere to eat,” Felicity says. “Samantha gave me William’s cheesecake because I got lightheaded.” She doesn’t mention almost fainting because Oliver doesn’t need to know that.
“Lightheaded?” he says. He looks at her with concern.
“It’s fine, it’s fine,” she says. “I just need to make sure the ratio of what goes down to what comes up again is a bit more even. Maybe I should just eat cheesecake.”
He looks around the square in dissatisfaction. Their choices here are basically bar food and concession food. Felicity’s fine with that, but he’ll probably make them stop at a grocery store on the way back to the hotel. “Let’s…” he scans the line of trucks in front of the rickety looking rides in the municipal parking lot. “Maybe a pretzel?” he finally says, tugging her towards a green truck with the words “The Different Twist” painted above in yellow. She nods.
Oliver orders her a pepperoni roll pretzel, and while they wait for it to be ready, she twines her fingers through his. “I think I made some headway with Samantha,” she says.
“Yeah?” Oliver’s face is hopeful. “He’s such a great kid, right?”
Her heart squeezes in her chest at his earnestness. “He’s great,” she agrees.
“Thank you,” he says. “I know that wasn’t fun. Samantha didn’t seem like she was in the best of moods when we left.”
“It was okay,” she says. It really was okay in the end.
The fake butter smell from the popcorn truck next to them is becoming overwhelming, though, so she steps back onto the sidewalk, pulling Oliver along with her. “You want this, right? Me? The baby? The whole family thing?”
His eyes soften. “I’ve never wanted anything more. Nothing in my whole life,” he says.
She nods decisively and pulls his hand to her mouth to kiss it. “Good. There are some things we need to do to make it work.”
“Things?” Oliver raises an eyebrow, momentarily stern, and then he smiles goofily and relaxes. “Sure, okay. Whatever you want. We’re having a baby!”
“We are,” she says. “So the first thing we need to do is find somewhere to live besides the loft. It’s completely unsuitable for a child, and people have almost died there too many times. We need a place with a yard. Somewhere a kid can play outside. I have a few ideas about that.”
Oliver’s smile widens. “Somewhere with a yard. That sounds nice. Maybe we could get a dog.”
“And the second thing is...” Felicity twines her arm around his arm and gives him her most encouraging smile, the one that makes it hard for him to resist her. She’s got her bargaining chip, and she’s going to use it. “We have to kill Malcolm Merlyn.”
At Oliver’s frown, she hurries on. “If you don’t want to kill him, you don’t have to. I’ll do it. But neither of your children are safe until he’s dead, so he’s got to go. Okay?”