A/N: Bear with me, I wanted to explore the grief Felicity was feeling. Probably not even close to how she feels, but I tried. I think (hope) it also shows what great friends Oliver has.
"John, please. You have to do something." Felicity was at John Diggle's apartment with tears streaming down her face. "I know it's only been fourty-eight hours, but he should have come back by now. He always comes back." All this is said through sobs as Lyla comes to the door behind John to see the commotion. Upon noticing Lyla in the doorway, Felicity peers over John on her tiptoes and adds, "And I know you have a brand new baby, but-"
"Ok, Felicity, ok." John placates. "I agree we need to do something."
"Come in, come in." Lyla sweeps her in through the door after taking in her disheveled appearance. Her usual put together demeanor has been replaced with a ratty ponytail and tear stained cheeks. Lyla puts an arm around her shoulders, wrapping her in a sideways hug, gently cooing in her ear.
"I pinged his phone and placed a tracker in his duffle bag, but they are just-" Felicity sighs heavily and shakily "-gone. The signals are gone." Her devastated face falls even further, if thats's possible, looking between Lyla and John, as Lyla places her gingerly on the couch. Lyla's motherly instinct kicks into overdrive right now as she comforts Felicity with gentle shushes. Felicity becomes much calmer.
"Maybe he found the tracker and disabled his phone. There is no reason to panic just yet." John is trying to remain optimistic despite evidence to the contrary.
"Yeah, maybe." Felicity concedes, though she remains doubtful.
When Oliver left, Felicity had stayed at the Foundry to monitor his actions using the trackers on his phone and duffle bag. Within a few hours, both signals were gone and Felicity nearly collapsed on the cold concrete floor. Her stomach turned and she thought she might be sick. The metal table where he had lain a time or two propped her up momentarily, but then memories flooded her mind. Watching him almost die had nearly broken her the first time. She had to get out of there. But she needed to find him. Before she leaves for her apartment, she quickly sets up a couple of programs to let her laptop know if the tracking software finds anything. It doesn't. This is how she came to be at John's.
Her emotions and negative thoughts were becoming too much and she needed very much to not be by herself. She had imagined every kind of scenario, some positive and some...not so positive. Maybe he was just unable to contact them. But what happened to the trackers? Did he find them like John suggested? Or worse, did somebody else find them? And if someone else did find them, what did they do with Oliver and to Oliver? It made her nauseated to think about it.
Unsure how to handle a crying Felicity, John leaves the room when his daughter cries from her room.
Lyla currently cradles Felicity like a small child, softly stroking her hair. Felicity pours out her heart to her. "He told me he loves me. He. Loves. Me. Do you know how long I have waited to hear those words? I mean for real this time. And then I just stand there like an idiot not saying anything. I didn't know what to say. I was surprised, I guess. And now I may never get a chance to say those words back to him." With these last words she begins to cry harder.
"Shh, shh, shh. I'm sure he knows how you feel."
"I've never really told him. He knows I care, but I don't know if he knows that I love him. I love Oliver Queen and The Arrow, because I love him. I love all parts of him. Ugh! That's not what I mean." Felicity moves from the embrace to stand up, acutely aware of the double entendre. "I love the Arrow because he is a part of him. I love all of him." By this tme, she is pacing. "But for some reason, he has it in his head that he can't be both men. Why can't he see that he is one and the same to me? He doesn't have to be both. Just be you. I love you." She says the last part quietly to herself, hoping Lyla doesn't think she is crazy. She takes a seat next to Lyla.
"Oh, and then he says some crap about not being with me because it puts me in danger. I am right by his side every night, anyway. As if I am I am not a grown woman that can make my own decisions. He frustrates the hell out of me."
Lyla smiles at her, understanding her completely, because she knows that kind of love. The frustration, all of it.
"Wouldn't be love if they didn't. You want to lay down in our guest room?"
FOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFO
"Could we get A.R.G.U.S. involved?" John asked Lyla. Felicity had finally fallen asleep an hour before, though it seemed to be filled with nightmares, if her thrashing around was any indication.
Thoughtful, Lyla nods. John scrubs his face once and places his hands on his hips. "It would be helpful if we knew where to look."
"I could try. Let me make some phone calls. What about areas surrounding Nanda Parbat?"
"It's a start."
"You know he told her he loved her?" Lyla asks offhandedly.
"About time." John knew he did, but his face shows a little surprise and relief, too. "He's just so damn stubborn. He's going to let a good woman slip through his fingers, because he leads a certain type of life. Which is exactly why he needs a good woman. So stubborn."
Lyla smiles at his little rant. "I love you, babe." She hugs him to her, not taking anything for granted that he is standing in front of her. "I love that you love your friends so much."
FOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFO
Felicity often dreams of Oliver. Tonight was no exception as she dreams of the first time they met. His smile warmed her heart and other places too, if she was honest. Deep blue eyes that twinkled especially when he smiled and his physique. She could never forget that. Even under his sweater, she could tell what a musular chest he had. Despite his good looks and rumored playboy activities, he seemed to have a darkness around him. This becomes more apparent in her next few encounters with him. She eventually learns bits and pieces of that darkness, but never the whole story.
She remembers the first time she saw his scars, scars that told a story of his time away from home. It was one of the times he worked out in front of her. Well, the real first time she saw his scars was when he turned up with a gunshot wound in her car, but she was too busy distracted by that to notice the marks. Her fingertips longed to trace the marred skin, some of them dark pink and raised. What sort of instrument of torture had scarred this beautiful flesh? It hurt her to think of him in this way, to think of her friend abused and beaten, possibly left for dead in the past.
Over the last two years they have developed a close friendship and she had always hoped for more. At first, she found him insanely beautiful, but soon learned there was so much more to him. When she found him in her car with a gunshot wound, everything became so much clearer. The more she learned about him, the more she realized what a good and moral man he was; loyal to his family and friends. Look where that loyalty got him. Dead, most likely. She couldn't dare go down that path...again. She violently turned over in her sleep.
She then dreams of their brief moment in the mansion before Slade took "the woman he loved." He had said those three words she longed to hear, the same words he said to her a couple of days ago. Did he mean them even then, even when he was just pretending to love her? It was obvious that he cared for her, but he cared about John and Roy, too.
The last images are of a very dead Oliver, his body on display in front of her. She had found him shot-no, stabbed multiple times-no, burned-no-. Hair sticking to her sweaty face, she wakes up gasping for air, before her dreams can further mutilate him. The thoughts and dreams must have an end, don't they? "Yeah, when he comes back alive," she says to herself, pessimisticly. It was the not knowing that was killing her. Lyla must have heard her gasping, because she knocks on the door. "Oh, sweetie," is all that is needed as she sits on the bed next to Felicity to envelop her in a hug.
"He can't be dead. He just can't." Lyla rubs her back and pats her head as Felicity's tears once again soak Lyla's t-shirt. "I just feel so empty. It's the not knowing. He should be back by now. He should-"
"I know, sweetie, I know." She pauses, searching for the right words to say. "Hang on to that 'I love you.' He'll be back if he confessed that. That's the start of something, not the end."
Felicity pulls away first to look at her. "Thank you. You're right. We don't know anything for certain."
"That's right. I'm going to call A.R.G.U.S. right now to see if they can maybe get a hit on your trackers." Felicity looks doubtful. "Even if they can't, they can put feelers out. Felicity, we will find him."
"Thank you. Thank you for everything."
They exchange sad but optimistic smiles. Felicity falls into a more peaceful slumber, playing the two 'I love yous' in a continuous loop in her dreams.
FOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFOFO
Over the next few weeks, her life returns to somewhat normal, except for her evenings, their evenings. A routine is very important for her sanity. However, her evenings are still black. She has no purpose anymore. By day, she goes back to work for Ray. The thoughts would become too much if she didn't. By night, she watches bad tv to block out what she used to do.
One night, about two months after Oliver's disappearance, she is watching some random sitcom curled up on her couch. There is a knock on the door. In her doorway, stands Oliver, a bright light in her world of darkness.
Felicity's usual chattiness has taken a backseat to so many other emotions; surprise, awe, most of all, love. Without a word to each other, she kisses him with everything that she has inside her. His arms go around her to hold her tight. She pulls back first to speak, her hands still on both sides of his face. "How? No. I don't care right right now. Oliver, I love you. I just want you to know that in case I never get to say it again. I knew-" She was going to say that she knew he'd return, before his warm lips cut off her rambling, as he picks her up to carry her to the bedroom.
He gently places her on the bed and stares down at her splayed out on her bed. Finally taking in his handsome face, all she sees is a tender smile, no darkness, as he comes to lay beside her. Stroking the hair out of her face and behind her ear, he says, "Felicity, I love you, too. I don't ever want to be away from you again."
A/N: I had most of this written before all the previews came out. So, I am sticking with she doesn't know what happened to him. I don't want to write smut, so that is why I ended it here. I don't think they would have sex right now, but I don't know. Use your imagination. I also wanted to show that perhaps they are lost without each other, not just that he is lost without her. I really hope that came across. Oliver is probably way too sappy at the end, but he has been away from his woman for two months. Please review!