Disclaimer: Characters not mine. Just borrowing them during their break for a little fun. They'll be returned as good as new for the next person to use when I'm done.

A/N: My very first Arrow fic! Or How I Survived the Hiatus. This is mainly an Olicity romance. Not exactly light and fluffy at first, but it gets there eventually. There are some obvious obstacles that must be overcome first ... like Oliver being not quite alive. I hope I don't disappoint. Please enjoy!

Chapter 1

Twenty four days. That's how long it's been since any of them had seen or heard from Oliver Queen. They were informed, by a very unreliable source, that he had been killed. Cut down in the battle with Ra's al Ghul. Because of that source, they didn't want to believe it. But they also hadn't heard any reports to contradict it. Now, it's getting to the point where they don't have a choice but to believe exactly that. People are getting concerned and curious where Oliver Queen could be. People like Laurel and Thea who have no idea what's really going on.

The initial story they started circulating when Oliver first went missing was that he was travelling. So much had happened to him in the past few months that it was easy to believe he was simply off on a trip to re-evaluate his life following his mother's death and the loss of the family's company to Ray Palmer. It wasn't so far fetched an idea. Thea had taken off for months on end to Corto Maltese, so the idea of him just disappearing for awhile to sort out his life wasn't out of the realm of possibility.

What was out of the realm of possibility was a silent Felicity. She became more and more withdrawn each day that went by without Oliver showing up. Diggle and Roy worried about their friend. Ray Palmer worried about his employee. Felicity just worried about Oliver and wondered where he could be. She searched tirelessly, sometimes forgetting to eat and sleep. Definitely forgetting to make it to her day job. She's called in sick for the past two weeks and is no longer trying to come up with convincing reasons. No way will anyone believe it's still "that time of the month" for her. Especially since it isn't.

Diggle finds Felicity in the same spot he left her in the previous evening and decides enough is enough.

"Felicity," he says, having to call her name a few times before she lifts blood shot eyes from the computer screen she's muttering curses at. "Felicity, time to shut it down."

"I'm on to something, Dig," she claims, turning back to her screen.

"Felicity," he says gently, placing a hand over hers so that she has to stop typing. "There is nothing. He's dead."

"No. He's not," she says, more forceful than he'd believe she'd have the strength to be given that it's been at least a day since he's seen her eat anything. "Oliver is not dead. I refuse to believe that."

"Honey …"

"Don't patronize me, John. I know what you and Roy are thinking. But he's not dead. There's no body. So he's not dead."

Diggle can only sigh. Too many times he's seen this very same reaction with war casualties. Bodies aren't always recovered … or recoverable. Those families take the news of death the hardest, not able to have that closure. Diggle fears Felicity will search forever for closure she might never receive.

"You need to at least eat something. Or drink something," Diggle suggests, handing her a bottle of water from out the refrigerator. "You look as if you're about to collapse. Making yourself sick won't help."

"I'm fine," she mumbles, attention already back on the results of her computer search. "I'm just …."

She lets out a huge yawn she's unable to suppress.

"Exhausted," Diggle interjects. "You're so tired, Felicity and it's hurting me to see what you're doing to yourself. Can you please stop, just for a little while? For me? Why don't you come by my place and visit Sara. She misses you."

"You play dirty, Diggle." Felicity stares longingly at her screen, then lets out a long sigh. "Fine. I'll come home with you, but only because you dangled Sara in front of me. You know I can't resist that cutie."

He smiles on the outside, but inside, he only feels a slight bit relieved. She's a long way from accepting what they all have to come to accept. That Oliver Queen is dead and not coming home.

.

.

"My search!" Felicity gasps, jumping quickly from where she'd apparently been sleeping for the past ….

"Eleven hours?" Her eyes widen in shock when she notes the time on her cell phone. She looks around the room, squinting until she spies her glasses setting atop the coffee table in front of her. With her glasses on, everything is clearer and she can see that's still at Diggle's. And that the man himself is standing in his kitchen, apparently cooking her breakfast.

"Good morning," he says cheerfully. "Did you sleep well?"

"You know I did," she snaps at him, groaning when her stomach starts to lurch at her movement. "What did you give me? Because it's making me sick."

"Just a mild sedative," he assures her. "You needed the rest."

"No. I need to find Oliver."

He doesn't know how to respond to that. He doesn't know how to heal the heartbreak he hears in her voice.

"What if we don't?"

"We have to," she simply says. There's no other alternative.

Diggle is about to try again to convince her to give up the search when the phone rings. She frowns at it, reading the name on the caller ID.

"It's Ray," she says with a sigh. "He's probably wondering if I'm coming in today. I guess I haven't been there in a while."

Diggle would be happy at her realization that she's let too many things in her life slip. But he doesn't like the guilty tone in her voice. She doesn't need to go from one extreme to the next.

Following a brief phone conversation with her boss, Felicity decides to go into the office for a while. After he forces some breakfast on her, Diggle drives her to Palmer Technologies. Neither are sure how much of the sedative is still in her system and figure it's not worth the risk of her driving.

"Thank you, John," she says quietly from next to him in the car. "I know I've been ... difficult these past few weeks. I'm sorry I've worried you. I'm starting to worry myself."

"It's a hard thing to go through, losing somebody you love. But it gets easier. Eventually."

"How do you get through it?" she wonders. "It hurts. It hurts so much that the pain smothers me. Some days I can hardly breathe."

Again, Diggle doesn't know what to say or how to make this better for her. Hopefully getting back to her normal routine will make things a little easier. This visit to Ray Palmer might just be the thing she needs.

Comments welcome and appreciated!