This afternoon I came across a Lauliver video. It was so beautiful and it broke my heart and it gave me the input to write this thing. It starts right after Dahrk stabs Laurel and goes from there. It's short and at some point it just ends. I'm not sure what to do with it… So I'll just post it here and if any of you has any idea how I should continue this or even if I should just let me know. I apologize for the mistakes. Fell free to point them out to me so I can fix them.

When he saw Dahrk stab Laurel with his own arrow, Oliver felt a wave of panic raise from his stomach and climb all the way up to his throat, threatening to choke him. It was a kind of terror he'd felt very few times in his life, a kind of terror that he hadn't experienced in a while. And his inability to move made it all so much worse. Oliver Queen was a man of action. Standing by while someone he cared about was in danger wasn't something he did. Ever. He always rushed in and tried to save the day. That was who he was, who he's always been and who he was going to be for the rest of his life. And yet he'd been powerless twice in his life… The fist time he had to watch his best friend die in front of his eyes. And then when his mother died, tied up on the ground unable to move, unable to do anything to save her life, watching Slade's sword cut through her body, Oliver had sworn that he would never let something like that happen again. And yet here he was, once again forced to stand idly by while Laurel was soon as Dahrk's hold on him vanished Oliver rushed at Laurel's side. He knelt beside her.- You're going to be on, Laurel. You're going to be okay. I'm going to get help. You're going to be okay. You're going to be okay. – He she put her shaking arm around his neck and when he felt her hold tighten a bit he slid his arms under her legs and he stood up, then he started running, clutching her broken body as close to him as he could.

Everything between when he picked her up from the prison floor to the moment he laid her down on the hospital stretcher was kind of a only remembered holding her shaking body, he remembered the red of the blood spreading on her suit, he remembered her troubled breathing, he remembered the feeling of her skin getting colder and colder every step of the way. But the one thing that he remembered more clearly was his own voice. He kept saying that she was strong and that she was going to survive this, that everything was going to be okay. He needed his own voice to stay focused, he needed to believe in his own words to keep going, he needed to hear those word to keep moving. Laurel was going to be okay. There was no other option, no other possible outcome. She needed to be okay, she had to be okay. Because only the thought of losing her was enough to throw him into the darkest and scariest place of his mind, the one ruled by vengeance and death, the one flooded with red hot panic. He had to believe that she was going to survive.

He laid her on the stretcher and looked at the doctors rushing in and start to treat her. He didn't realize her was holding her hand until the doctors asked him to let her go and let them help. For a second he tighten his old, he couldn't let her go. He was too scared that once he did she would die and the last memory of her would be her bleeding out on a prison floor, just like his last memory of Tommy had been of him bleeding out on the flood of the CNIR. But he knew that letting go was necessary, he had to let the doctors help her. He had to let the doctors work and take care of her (and save her. Please God don't let her die). So he let go of her hand and moved backward, hovering for a while in the doorway. Until she was brought in the OR and he was left alone in the room.

Oliver didn't remember leaving the hospital, going to the bunker and changing. He just knew that now he was back in the hospital, wearing a pair of jeans and a green shirt, pacing the white aseptic corridors, waiting for Laurel to come out of surgery alive. Laurel was strong and no matter how hard life hit her she always got back up, stronger than before. The harder life hit her, the stronger she became. She was going to survive. If she died he would lose the one person who had always been on his side, no matter what. He had hurt her in the worst possible way, he had betrayed her, he had left her alone to grieve Tommy, he hadn't been there for her when she was battling her addiction, he had antagonized her choice of becoming the Black Canary, going as far as refusing to train her and yet she had always stood right next to him. She was always ready to help, she had always been his support. Even when she had found out about William, and about the affair he had with Samantha while they were still together, Laurel hadn't yelled, she hadn't made a scene, she had simply offered her support to Samantha and her help to him. It didn't matter how badly he fucked up, after the first outburst of anger Laurel was always there for him, supporting him, helping him; and more often than not even that first outburst didn't come. Laurel was the one person in his life that had always believed in him, she had always seen the best in him, even when it was buried after layers of stupidity and recklessness. He couldn't lose her. He just couldn't. She was too important.

He loved her and he couldn't lose her without telling her. She couldn't die thinking that he loved Felicity more than her. Laurel was the love of his life and she couldn't die. She couldn't . Damn him for realizing this just now, when it might be too late. ( But it wasn't. It wasn't too late. Because she was going to survive and everything would be okay)