(T/N: There is now a p.atreon for this work, and any new work I add will be dropped there first. check it out for an early release of up to 30 chapters edited smoothly. https://www.p.atreon.com/INeedRest)
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Ps: We reached chapter 50 on p.atreon!
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Real freedom wasn't about doing whatever you wanted, but about not having to do what you don't want.
Since arriving in this world, Allen believed he was truly free.
Free from the old rules.
Free from the old expectations… And free to do things his way.
He had absolutely no intention of sleeping on the floor like some kind of ascetic monk.
So, while Felicity was still sitting there, overthinking the symbolic connection between sleeping on the ground and "restraining oneself," Allen had already made his decision.
Without hesitation, he lifted the quilt, laid down in the bed like it was rightfully his, and without a hint of awkwardness, casually pulled Felicity into his arms.
'Wha-whaaat!!!'
Her body tensed on contact, yet still felt soft and warm.
Felicity, suddenly enveloped by Allen's embrace, froze like someone had just hit her pressure points.
Her hand remained clenched tightly around her phone, unmoving.
Her mind went blank, as if it short-circuited.
"This new pillow isn't very big," Allen murmured, his tone somewhere between casual complaint and sleepy approval.
He adjusted slightly, settling in, then slowly closed his eyes like he hadn't just said something incredibly inappropriate.
No one could say how long it was before Felicity finally gathered the courage to turn her head and look at him.
She moved carefully, almost like she was afraid she'd wake a sleeping lion.
Seeing Allen seemingly sound asleep, she gently began trying to lift his arm off her.
But just as she slid his arm away,
It came right back.
Like it had a will of its own.
She tried again.
Again, his hand returned to its previous position, reclaiming its "territory" like some sleepy, overprotective cat.
The tug-of-war for dominance over the "high ground" continued a few more silent rounds until Felicity finally gave up with a sigh of resignation.
'Fine, whatever. If you want it, then it's yours!'
Felicity stared at him helplessly, silently screaming into the void inside her head.
She lay there, stiff as a board with her thoughts racing, until her eyelids grew heavier and heavier.
Eventually, without even realizing it, she slipped into a confused restless sleep.
And then,
She had a dream.
In the dream, she had just graduated, full of hope, and landed a tech job at Queen Consolidated.
She rented a small but cozy apartment with her boyfriend.
It wasn't fancy, but it felt like home.
Together, they cleaned, furnished and made it theirs.
That night, instead of cooking, they ordered takeout as they were too tired to bother with cooking.
Her boyfriend was extra sweet that evening.
Playful… Gentle.
He held her close, teasing affection growing more intense.
Felicity was shy and nervous, but there was a certain comfort in his touch.
A strange but welcome warmth.
It felt like she'd finally found someone she could trust with her heart.
She gradually stopped resisting.
She even started to take the initiative.
But just as things started to heat up, her boyfriend grinned mischievously and pulled back, making her groan in frustrated confusion.
So, she doubled down.
Took even more initiative.
The dream blurred there.
Faces grew fuzzy, moments slipped away until she woke up abruptly.
Allen was gone.
And her pajamas held out a certain surprise for her…
Felicity blinked at the ceiling, still half-asleep, then sat up as realization set in.
Her face went completely red.
Fragments of her dream crashed back into her consciousness like a digital slideshow of humiliation.
The worst part? The boyfriend in her dream looked exactly like Allen.
"Damn it! What kind of horny mess am I to have that kind of dream?" she cursed herself aloud, yanking the blanket up in a fruitless attempt to hide her own shame.
Then she glanced at the clock.
Panic struck like a thunderbolt.
"Oh, crap! I'm gonna be late!"
Felicity scrambled to her feet like someone had lit a fire under her.
She rummaged wildly through her closet, grabbed the nearest semi-decent outfit, and stumbled out of the bedroom while half-dressed, charging into the bathroom to clean up at lightning speed.
Minutes later, she emerged, hair slightly damp, bag in hand, shoes halfway on, looking like a tornado had dressed her.
Then she saw Allen looking calm and relaxed.
He was sitting on the sofa with a mug in hand as if the chaos of the last ten minutes hadn't happened at all.
He raised an eyebrow, clearly having watched her entire one-woman crisis in amused silence.
Felicity froze, like a deer caught in the headlights.
"I, I get off work at five!" she blurted in pure panic, then slammed the door behind her and fled like she was running from a crime scene.
Boom!
The door shook from the force.
Allen blinked, then let out a soft chuckle.
"Haha"
Watching Felicity was very entertaining.
He leaned back on the sofa, the soft morning sunlight spilling lazily across his chest like a warm spotlight.
Stretching a little, Allen closed his eyes briefly and began to think.
Right now, Oliver Queen was still missing.
There was no word yet on the particle accelerator explosion in Central City.
Which meant the Flash hadn't been born either.
'So… What's left to play with?'
Allen smirked.
Legends of Tomorrow.
Their mission was to travel through time, correcting anomalies and protecting the timeline.
So if someone, say, Allen, started deliberately causing historical changes…
They'd have to show up.
And once they did, he could just hitch a ride.
Why not travel through time wherever he pleased?
As for whether they'd actually let him on board?
There were six words he lived by:
If you like it, take it.
Since this was Starling City, his eyes naturally turned to Laurel Lance.
Laurel was proud, kind, and had a strong sense of justice.
If he could train her early, awaken her potential and help her become [Black Canary] sooner, then she'd be able to protect herself and others.
Sara Lance wouldn't need to sacrifice herself to the League of Assassins to keep her sister and father safe.
She wouldn't be mind-controlled by Malcolm Merlyn, killed by Thea, resurrected via the [Lazarus Pit], and ultimately end up thrown into the chaotic time-traveling circus of the Legends.
'Right?'
If he prevented all of that…
Then, eventually, the Legends would return to their timeline, only to find their captain missing, and the timeline in disarray.
'Wouldn't they come back to investigate?'
Allen smiled faintly, amused by his own idea.
And Laurel?
Well, he was curious about her.
Not because he wanted to steal Oliver Queen's girl, necessarily.
But because… well, wouldn't it be painfully poetic?
Imagine Oliver Queen finally returning to Starling City, preparing to take on the mantle of its savior.
But when he arrives, he finds the city already safe.
Villains were handled.
The streets were clean.
And Laurel… was already with someone else.
He stands there, ready to recite his iconic line:
"To protect my city, I had to become someone else. I had to become… something else…" Only to realize there was nothing left to protect.
What would he do then?
Would he still become the Green Arrow?
Or just quietly return to the peaceful life he never got to have?
…He probably would still choose to be the Green Arrow.
It's who he was.
The only difference was, by that point,
His biggest rival… might be Laurel herself.
A tragic, love-hate showdown.
Was it corny? Absolutely.
But still, it was irresistibly dramatic.