In preparation for tomorrow's episode, here's a little drabble I wrote for 5x20, so mild spoilers and some Olicity. As always, reviews are appreciated, especially since this is a different style than I'm used to.
Title and inspiration come from 'She Waits' by Louden Swain. I also don't own Arrow, which is a shocker.
Felicity waits for something to go wrong. It's an awful prediction, and an awful thing to wait for, but they've literally been trapped in the bunker by Chase with absolutely no way out. Of course, except the elevator shaft. And since Chase is so far ahead of all of them, there's obviously some sort of trap in it. It's so obvious, it's almost funny. Almost.
Oliver doesn't listen, which isn't surprising, and neither is the explosion that sounds a few minutes later. At first, she's annoyed and pissed off because he didn't listen to her, again. Then there's a sharp cry of pain, because obviously falling two stories wouldn't feel good.
So she wheels her way over as quickly as she can, half worried, and half angry, and finds him bleeding from a nice size hole in his back. She immediately begins the 'I told you so's, but in the back of her mind she is just grateful that it wasn't worse. Felicity supposes she'll just have to wait for worse. Or wait for him to start listening to her. She really hopes that the latter comes first.
She waits for him to come back to her. The admission that Oliver can't trust himself was half delirious and she doesn't know what else, but she knows that she'll never sleep again if that was the last thing he ever said to her. She simply won't let it happen.
She will never get used to the way his eyes fall closed and his head dips unnaturally to the side when he falls unconscious. With the added blood, it looks to much like…something worse had happened. It's a constant reminder that in their current situation, worse was still a possibility. So she stays close, head on his chest, reassured by his heart, which she can hear pumping if she turns the right way.
The heartbeat is a bit unsteady with exertion and blood loss, but it is there all the same. Felicity waits and focuses on it, trying to calm herself down. She's also waiting for the air to run out, which will happen faster if she doesn't stay calm. Because Oliver's alive, and she knows better than anyone that if he's alive, he's going to keep fighting. So Felicity waits, breathes, and listens.
And when his chest hitches and his eyes open, the waiting stops, and she allows herself a grateful smile despite the fact that their situation hasn't improved.
All three of them are hanging by a rung, hand to hand, holding each other together as they always have, except this time it's tens of feet above a giant rotating fan. Felicity's completely helpless, the hand around hers the only thing keeping her from meeting that fan face to face. But she looks up at the strain on Oliver's face, who has basically been stabbed, passed out multiple times, and carried her out of the lair, and suddenly she's not quite so helpless anymore as an idea comes to mind.
Felicity tells him to let her go. She practically begs it, because he deserves to live and the city needs someone to save it from Chase. She yells it at him with tears in her eyes, waiting for the sensation of falling that she should have realized would never happen.
Because trust or not, fight or not, he won't let her die if he can help it.
Felicity waits another second for the fall that never comes, and instead is lifted up one handed until she can safely grab onto him again.
After her back is more or less fixed, Felicity spends the time pacing in the ARGUS quarters, waiting for when they get news about Oliver's condition. He's faced and survived worse, she knows, but it never gets any easier. When the news does come that he wants to see her, she's walking down the hall before there are any second thoughts. The relief when she opens the door to find him alright, and his when he sees her walking is nearly palpable.
He talks, and she listens. She talks, and he listens. She relays that she understands, and that she's sorry that she didn't try to before, but she isn't sorry about the underlying problem of fighting about lying.
Felicity waits for the rebuttal, but it never comes. In its place is a quiet sort of acceptance, a 'thank you' for being honest on both their parts. They sit in silence for a few more minutes, as if reassuring themselves that they're both okay, before he tells her that she should get some rest. Felicity scoffs at this and looks around the room before pulling up a chair next to the bed, replying that he needs some too.
After realizing that there's no way in hell he's getting her to go anywhere after what they just went though, Oliver eventually accepts it, running his rough fingers through her smooth ones before drifting off to sleep a few minutes later.
Felicity is left with the beeping machine and the hum of the air conditioner and the rest of the quiet as she adjusts herself to be more comfortable in the chair. Fighting, lying, and mistrusting aside, Felicity figures this is always where she would have ended up, right back in the place that she's been in for the past five years: by his side. She maintains her grip on his hand though, just as he had back in the tunnel.
He hadn't let her go, and she'll be damned if she lets him go, especially after what they've just been through; after there's some chance of…something. So she sits by Oliver's sleeping form in the less than quiet hospital room, hand around his. And she waits for him to wake up.
