Chapter Text
Felicity Smoak paced the room, rubbing her fingers nervously as her stomach rolled with dread. Dizziness hit her at the sudden thought, making the room spin around her. Her arm shot out to steady herself before she took a deep breath.
It couldn't be.
No, it wouldn't happen.
She was certain. Or at least, she hoped so.
Glancing at the clock, she saw that only half a minute had passed since leaving the bathroom behind to begin a nerve-wracking three-minute wait filled with sadness, panic, and fear. Fear of the results. Fear of his reaction if her suspicions were true. Shaking her head and fighting back the sudden tears flooding her vision, she looked out the window, noticing for the first time how calm everything was outside. Ironic, because nothing was calm inside her chaotic mind.
As she looked out, she saw happy couples holding hands, smiling at each other, laughing, pushing a baby stroller—having a good time with their partners while her world shattered into pieces. The heaviness settled once more in her chest, making room beside the fear as her hand, the one gripping the window frame, trembled, her eyes glued to the toddler holding his parents' hands.
A tiny human being, with tiny legs and tiny arms, trying to take a step without his parents' guidance, but failing.
She watched as the boy caught his mother's leg before losing balance and falling, making an annoyed face as his father laughed and picked him up, saying something that made the little one smile. The mother linked her fingers with the father’s as the small family walked away, happily.
Her heart ached at the sight as they disappeared, knowing that no matter what, if there were two lines, she would never have that kind of future. She would never be able to hold the hand of the father of her child, even if they went for a walk together. She would never have that family. Her body wouldn’t buzz with happiness as she secretly watched their child playing with his father. Her soul and heart would not be content, full of love, pride, and calmness.
No.
If she was indeed carrying a child inside her body, her days would be filled with anxiety, stress, and madness.
She knew him. No matter how soft he could be on rare occasions, he was still filled with darkness and anger. He was still the man who could snap someone’s neck in the blink of an eye and dump the body in an unmarked grave. He was still the same person who could dispose of her the moment the truth was out in the open.
After all this time, she had no idea why she kept going back to him.
Yes, you know.
The betrayal of her heart and mind whispered back. And those voices weren’t lies. Deep down, she knew. She knew the reasons, just as she knew her life would never be the same if she was right.
Sighing, she closed her eyes, stepping away from the window on unsteady legs as another wave of dizziness rolled through her, making her fists clench at her sides. She needed to get herself together. She was stronger than this. She couldn’t just lose herself in the fear, she couldn’t let it swallow her.
She had to fight. Just like she always had.
Inhaling deeply, she looked at the clock on the wall and saw that the three minutes had finally passed. Heart thundering in her chest, she slowly made her way to the bathroom, only stopping in front of the door for a second to gather strength before pulling it open and stepping inside, allowing fate to decide what would happen next.
Because no matter what, she realized in that moment, she would fight.
Fight to make her own decisions. Fight to regain the calmness within her, to let the storm pass.
With careful, light steps, she stopped in front of the sink.
Now or never.
She squeezed her eyes shut, taking all three sticks in her hands, swallowing down the nervousness rising inside her. Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw what she had feared but suspected all along.
She felt all hope leave her body. Even though she had expected it, that didn’t make seeing the results any easier.
Positive. All three tests showed it in unison.
She was pregnant.
With the child of a mobster. A Bratva captain.
She was going to be the mother of Oliver Queen’s child.