Chapter Text
It all started because the boys simply wouldn’t listen.
It took over a week for Felicity to get anywhere with her search for Prometheus. Justin Claybourne’s son was born in the 1980s. That’s before all the recoding that banks had to do around Y2K. It was even before the Long September. TCP-IP barely existed. Banks used those weird pneumatic tubes to send files between floors. So it was no small feat to trace money transfers from Justin Claybourne to the mother of his child.
And bringing that information up to the present wasn’t simple, either. People moved. Kids grew up. Banks merged. Whole accounts were transferred to new institutions. Plus, someone had been trying to erase the digital footprints, and had done a fairly good job. But that someone hadn’t counted on Felicity Smoak.
“Ha!” Felicity pumped her fist. “3273 Peony Lane, Star City.” She spun around and saw...
Four men packing.
Packing?
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Packing,” said Curtis.
Boys. They’re nothing if they aren’t obvious.
“To go where?” Felicity let just a hint of a threat into her voice.
“To follow up on this lead,” Rene answered. It was NOT an answer.
Felicity glared at them.
Rory just shrugged and looked at Oliver.
“About Laurel,” Oliver finally said. “It doesn’t make sense. She remembered me, remembered being the Black Canary, but she didn’t remember...” He paused. As if Felicity were made of some kind of delicately spun glass and couldn’t deal with the word.
“Dying,” Felicity said.
The word hung in the stillness of the bunker like ash.
Oliver took a breath and looked at her. “Yes.”
Felicity stared at him for a moment. He didn’t look away. Her heart thumped once, twice, three times. “What was the lead?”
“After her latest disappearance, someone who looks like Laurel was seen in Central City,” Oliver said.
“Cisco used your facial recognition software,” Curtis interrupted. “He says it’s the best...”
Felicity glared at Curtis until he stopped speaking. “How do you know it’s not a trap?”
All four of them looked at her. Then they looked at each other. Finally, Oliver spoke. “There was more information. From someone that Rene trusts.”
“Well, I don’t trust her not to kill me...” Rene muttered. Felicity wasn’t sure who he meant. She wasn’t sure that she cared.
“And that’s it?” She glared at them. “Prometheus is OUT THERE. He tricks people. He tricked John. He tricked OLIVER. How can you trust ANYTHING?”
The boys all looked at the floor. As if the floor had answers.
“I’ve got a lead, too,” Felicity said. “Bank records. Going back to the 1980s. Information that leads us straight to him.”
“Felicity,” Oliver said.
“I have thirty years of bank records,” Felicity said. “And an address.”
“How do you know that’s not the trap?” Curtis asked.
Felicity glared at him.
The boys looked at Oliver.
“Felicity,” Oliver said. The gentleness in his voice was like a wire brush dragged over her skin. “Do you want to come with us?”
She glared at him. “This is a bad idea.”
Oliver had the grace to look a little guilty.
“Four guys looking for a girl.” Felicity looked them over. “It’s like a bad bro comedy.”
“Three straight guys and one gay guy,” said Curtis.
Felicity turned her glare at Curtis again. He winced and took a step back.
“It won’t be long,” Oliver said. “I’m sure you could stay with Thea...” He trailed off.
“I’ll be fine,” Felicity said.
She wasn’t. But she was not going to admit that to them.
***
They finished packing and left.
Felicity sat at her workstation and stared at the information. Leads like this were time-sensitive. There just wasn’t enough time to wait for the boys to get back from Central City.
She picked up her phone.
“Dad?” She paused, listened to his surprised, apparently affectionate, not-at-all-to-be-trusted words. “I need your help.” She paused again, listened to his voice saying that she could certainly hack anything she needed, she wouldn’t need his help.
She held the phone away from her ear until he was done.
“I need your help to break someone out of prison.” She listened for a while, then hung up.