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Gunpoint

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Somewhere in the apartment, Felicity heard a door slam.

"Will?" she called out. No answer. Puzzled, she padded out of her room and toward William's. The door was shut, and there were no sounds of movement beyond it, and no sign of him elsewhere in the apartment. A sound nearby made her whirl around toward the screen on the nearest wall. It was flashing an "Error" message, and she felt an icicle of fear stab her in the gut.

"Hey, hey, hey, Erin," an all too familiar voice said from behind her, and that icy fear spread through her whole body. She stumbled backwards past the wall, into open space, and there he was. Ricardo Diaz. He'd found them.

"You're a hard woman to find," he said mockingly. Felicity backed away from him, toward the kitchen, and he followed her, slow and menacing like a tiger stalking its prey.

"No one to save you now," he said. "Just you and me."

"I swear to God, if you hurt him-" Felicity began, trying to sound braver than she felt, because all she could think of in that moment, all she could care about, was whether William was safe.

"You'll what?" Diaz interjected. "You'll sic Oliver after me? Right now, he's realizing how difficult prison life is." Felicity allowed herself a moment- only a moment- to worry about what he might have had done to Oliver, what plans he'd set in motion against him. Then she refocused, tamping down her fear enough to prepare herself for the fight she knew was coming.

"What the hell do you want?" she whispered in a trembling voice, some of that fear creeping through.

"Pretty simple, actually," Diaz replied. He pulled out a gun, cocked it, and pointed it at her face. She took a step back in spite of herself. Over Diaz's shoulder, she saw William, creeping slowly and fearfully toward the door, and the fear she felt at being held at gunpoint and having her life threatened was nothing compared to the fear she felt for his safety.

"I want Oliver to spend the rest of his life in prison knowing that I killed his wife," Diaz went on. 

"Oh, thank God you monologue," Felicity muttered, a split second before she shouted "Run! Now!" to William and charged Diaz, splashing hot coffee from the coffee pot in his face and knocking the gun out of his hand with the pot.

"Oh, you're going to pay for that," he promised her, but she didn't care. All that mattered was that she protected William. All that mattered was that she kept him safe.