A/N: This fic has a bit of a slow build, but stay with me. We'll get there. Huge thanks to Abbie, storiesofimagination, and ohemgeeitscoley for the cheerleading and hand holding and the screaming at me in capslock. You guys make this so much fun.

Felicity should perhaps find it strange that the main similarity between the first time she meets Oliver Queen and the first time she meets Tommy Merlyn is that they're both bleeding to death at the time. She knows them before each incident, of course. Oliver is a perplexing distraction in her office every few weeks. Tommy is a constant presence around Verdant, but since he mostly stays upstairs while Felicity mostly stays downstairs, the crossing of their paths is usually accompanied by a polite smile and a nod.

Even so, Felicity may have met "Oliver Queen" when he strolled into her office with a banged-up laptop, but she first met Oliver when he pulled off a green hood in her backseat and asked for her help. Her brain has always made the distinction. Oliver Queen wanted a favor. Oliver needed her help.

In the same way, Felicity doesn't quite consider the occasional passing smile at Tommy Merlyn any sort of official introduction. They knew of each other, but they were always headed in different directions, pulled away by conflicting distractions.

Except now.

Now, he's just another man suffering from extreme blood loss in her backseat while she attempts to navigate her mini cooper through the war zone that Starling City has become in the wake of the earthquake machine she couldn't stop.

Oliver Queen is squashed in her backseat; his best friend is next to him with a six-inch piece of rebar that has pierced right through his shoulder. Felicity isn't sure if he's still conscious. All she can hear is Oliver pleading with Tommy to stay with them.

Eventually, it becomes the mantra echoing in her head too. Stay with me. Stay with me, Tommy.

There's a green leather suit in her trunk from when Oliver hastily changed clothes and balled up wipes smeared with greenish-black paint all over the floor in the backseat. Felicity has blood caked under her nails and dripping down a slowly bleeding gash on her forearm.

When they get to the hospital, Tommy is rushed into surgery while Felicity and Oliver are stuck in the main body of the ER getting patched up. Felicity only needs a few stitches on her arm, but she stays by Oliver's side while the wound in his shoulder is treated.

After that, they're sent off to a waiting room. She sits; he paces. Felicity, at least, has her tablet and the ability to keep a constant eye on the news sources.

It's pretty bleak, even just looking at the low estimates for casualties. The city may never be the same again.

Laurel comes running in with tears streaming down her face. Oliver stops his pacing long enough to grab her in a hug it takes her a few moments to accept. Over Laurel's shoulder, Felicity can see the distress on Oliver's face, the unspoken guilt.

He blames himself for this. Of course he does. He blames himself for everything. It doesn't take a genius to figure that out.

The problem is Felicity can't quite stop blaming herself. She should have figured out there was another device. If she had, they wouldn't be here. Her backseat wouldn't be covered in blood.

For hours, they wait. She brings Oliver and Laurel coffee and muffins, but beyond that, there's nothing to do but let time pass. It goes by slowly, with little in the way of distractions offered to them.

Even when Oliver finally sits next to her and tells her that no one expects her to stay, that she can go home, she refuses. She doesn't know Tommy all that well, but she knows that he just lost his father and his mother has been gone since he was little. She knows he has no siblings. She knows that he and Laurel recently broke up. She knows that he's been a dear friend to Oliver.

She knows he deserves people sitting in a waiting room for him.

And then there's Oliver, distraught, pacing, carrying a world's worth of guilt on his shoulders. He's her friend, and even if her support is bland muffins and horrible coffee and just being there, she's going to give it. He deserves nothing less.

At some point, she does fall asleep. Her head falls so it rests on Oliver's shoulder, and she dreams of the foundry collapsing on top of her and burying her in rubble.

She wakes up gasping, but doesn't tell Oliver about it. He rubs her shoulder a little and tells her Tommy's out of surgery and resting comfortably. Dig, Thea Queen, and Thea's boyfriend, Roy, have shown up during her nap. Felicity gets a quick hug from Diggle before following the rest of the group out of the waiting room.

The six of them step into Tommy's room right as the sun is rising. There's still not much to do and there aren't many chairs. After a few moments of being able to reassure herself that the very pretty man did not, in fact, die in her backseat, Felicity excuses herself. Oliver follows her to the elevator.

"Thank you for staying," he says as she pushes the down button.

"My—well, not really my pleasure, but… you know." None of the typical responses to 'thank you' feel appropriate in this situation, so she stops trying to find one. "I'm glad he's okay."

And then, because she's on essentially no sleep at all, she puts her hand on Oliver's arm and says, "I'm glad you're okay."

He's not, at least not completely. But something about seeing Tommy alive and hearing the heart monitor beeping and watching his chest rise and fall with each breath appears to have calmed him down. Worry isn't evident in the way he stands anymore. She can't see deep concern in his eyes. Just exhaustion.

They have to talk about what their next steps are, what they're going to do with the foundry destroyed, where they're going to go, but that's a conversation for later.

For now, Felicity pushes up on her toes and pulls Oliver into a hug. She's not one hundred percent sure he's even the hugging type, but she needs it, and she suspects he does too.

It's the crossing of a previously established physical boundary in their relationship, but Oliver doesn't seem to notice, sinking into her arms like he belongs there.

And maybe, in a way, he does.

The elevator doors open, and Felicity steps inside. She gives Oliver a little wave and says, "See you tomorrow."

Which is wrong. She doesn't see him the next day, or the day after, or the day after that, because while he's in Starling for a week after the Glades fall, he doesn't contact her at all. Her calls aren't answered and her texts go without a response. She contacts Dig, but Dig hasn't heard from him either.

It's like he's dropped off of the face of the earth.

Felicity goes to see Tommy once while he's recovering. Flowers don't seem like the sort of thing he would appreciate, but she brings him a soft brown teddy bear holding a stuffed red heart that says "Get better soon," on it.

The room is empty except for Tommy and the nurse who passes Felicity on her way through the door.

Tommy looks up at her with hopeful eyes, but the hope fades quickly. "I think you might have the wrong room."

If Felicity were a less headstrong person, she might have agreed with him, might have murmured an apology and spun on her heel and left with embarrassment causing a blush to spread over her cheeks. Instead, she just says, "You're Tommy Merlyn. You were bleeding in my car. I have the right room."

He blinks, surprised. "I was?"

She nods. "You needed a hospital. I don't blame you for not remembering me."

Tipping his head just a little, he squints at her. "I do know you. Oliver hired you to take care of the wifi at Verdant."

She nods. They'd never really exchanged more than a few texts. The wifi was a good cover for her presence because it was true. They were having problems, and it required scheduling with the person managing the bar more than the preoccupied owner using it as a front.

He'd also been the one who cut her the check for fixing everything.

"I just…" she shrugs. "Wanted to see that you were okay. Not every day someone almost dies in your car after a freak earthquake."

Tommy frowns. "Why was I in your car? Why were you there?"

"Oliver called me," she answers. It's the truth. But it was over a comm. unit, and she'd already been in her car on the way to his location. "I was close."

"Oliver called you," he says, and she pushes down a sense of panic. He doesn't believe her. And he knows about Oliver's extra-curricular activities. He could put two and two together and figure out the truth.

She wonders how much of a bad thing that would really be. He knows about Oliver and hasn't turned him in. But maybe that's friendship. Maybe he would protect her to protect Oliver.

She's just not sure, and she's not willing to gamble with Oliver's well-being, much less her own.

So instead, she holds out the bear with both hands. "Here," she says, and Tommy smiles. It's a little lopsided, but it lights up his eyes as he takes the stuffed animal from her.

"He's adorable," Tommy says, and maybe he's a little loopy on pain medication, because he kisses it on the forehead before setting it down on the bed next to him. "Thank you."

He's easy to smile back at. "You're welcome."

It gets silent then, neither of them quite sure what to say. After a few moments, the quiet overwhelms her, and she says, "You probably need rest so I should—"

"Felicity?" he asks, and she stops.

"Yes?"

"Have you seen Oliver?"

She shakes her head no. "Not since… not since that night, no. And he's ignoring all my calls and texts."

Tommy sighs and turns his head away from her. So Oliver is ignoring him too. She's not sure if that makes her feel marginally better or if it just angers her that Oliver has gone MIA.

Especially when his best friend just lost his dad and has been stuck in the hospital.

She feels no guilt over the death of Malcolm Merlyn. It was Oliver's call, and the man decimated part of her city because he deemed the people there beneath him. She won't mourn him. She won't miss him. She can say nothing more than 'good riddance'.

But he was Tommy's father. And she sort of thinks that whether Tommy wants to or not, he's going to grieve his dad. Maybe not for who the man was, but definitely for who he wanted him to be.

And that's why Felicity pulls up a chair. "I'm sorry," she says softly. "About your father."

"You'd be the only one," he snaps bitterly. Then, he seems to catch himself. He clears his throat. "Thank you, I guess. He was a shitty dad. He was a shitty person."

"Doesn't mean you won't miss him," Felicity says, because she doesn't quite understand the death of a father but she sure as hell knows the loss of one. "My dad took off when I was little. Just up and left. Doesn't mean I still don't miss him. It's stupid as hell, but somehow it seems that it's just… how people work."

Whatever was eating at Tommy fades away. The conversation turns, and before Felicity knows it she's passed the entire afternoon there, chatting with him.

She means to go back. She has every intention of returning to see him, but between the turmoil within Queen Consolidated and her determination to find Oliver, she doesn't make it back to the hospital for a while, and when she does, she finds out that Tommy was released.

And then it becomes abundantly clear that Oliver has no intention of coming back.

Felicity grits her teeth and stares at the million dollars that has suddenly appeared in her bank account. She looks around at a floundering Starling City, looks at the distress and hopelessness that's everywhere. She stares at the green leather jacket in her car trunk with the hole in its shoulder and blood staining the material.

And she knows what Starling needs.

Better than that, she knows how to find him. He didn't cover his tracks well, and the money trail leads her right to his exact location without really having to put in a lot of effort.

The one thing she doesn't know is how to get him to come home. Sure, she could fly out there with determination and a prayer, but she'd rather have a trump card. Something he doesn't expect.

And she has an idea of where to find that as well.

Malcolm Merlyn is not given a funeral, in the traditional sense. Tommy buries him, because the man was a monster but the man was his father. He strongly objects to his father's wish that he be buried beside his late wife, and he downright scoffs at the idea of "beloved father" as the inscription on Malcolm's grave. He packs up every bit of evidence that Malcolm was ever the Dark Archer and puts it in storage. He talks to a realtor about selling the house he was never welcome in. He hides from the press and angry parents who lost children, furious fathers who lost homes.

Laurel shows up on his doorstep with wine and ice cream and he tries to send her away three times before he finally relents. It's not a bad conversation, when it gets down to it, but it doesn't end up solving anything.

They love each other. But there are some things love can't do, some problems it can't solve. Tommy and Laurel are plagued by several big ones. An evening of togetherness and frank conversation doesn't solve them all. It does give them a cleaner break. Tommy hugs her goodbye and kisses her forehead and wishes her well. He wants her in his life, wants her to be okay, to be happy.

He was still on the board of Merlyn Global when the Glades fell, and as soon as he can he starts angling for the company to do everything in its power to help rebuild the Glades and right whatever of his father's wrongs he can. Then Merlyn Global is absorbed by Stellmoor International, and they want to cut all ties with the Merlyn name, so Tommy takes the time to negotiate a fair severance package (because fuck Malcolm and his legacy, but Tommy put blood, sweat, and tears into this company. He worked from a hospital room to make sure everything in his power was done to help the people whose lives his father destroyed, and if Stellmoor is going to capitalize off of his goodwill then he's going to take enough to keep him on his feet when they kick him to the curb) and waves it aside.

He's not jobless for long, because Thea approaches him barely a day later with plans for reopening Verdant.

And the day after that, Felicity Smoak shows up at his doorstep.

"I need your help," she says. "It's about Oliver."

There's no acceptable response to that but to step back and allow her in. "Right. Oliver. What's wrong with Oliver?"

"He's gone," she says flatly. "And I need to bring him back here. This city needs him."

Before, Tommy had been operating only on the suspicion that Felicity knew about Oliver's nightly activities, but those words change it from possibility to certainty.

"The city needs him?"

She gives him a look. It's tipped head and pursed lips and rather adorable, actually. "Look. I know what you know and you probably know what I know, so just… you have to know why I need to bring him back. This city is falling apart, and people need hope."

Tommy crosses his arms. Her conviction is endearing, if, he thinks, misguided. "And you think a murderous vigilante in a hood is something that's going to give people hope, Felicity?"

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a green hood. Tommy's stomach turns.

"I think that what he did worked," she says. "I think that he stopped bad people from doing bad things. I think he protected people, saved lives. I saw it, Tommy."

"Even if I believed that, why couldn't you bring him back yourself?"

"Because I think I know why he left, and if I'm right, then he doesn't just need to hear that the city needs him." She takes a step towards him and holds out the hood. "He needs you."

He takes it tentatively, rubbing his fingers across it. The material is not as rough or textured as he would expect. "Why me?"

"Because…" She sighs deeply. "If I know Oliver, he's destroying himself with his own guilt. And I could wait for him to stop brooding and return on his own, but this is you he thinks he hurt. He might never come back."

It's those words that give him pause, because he's lived in a world where Oliver didn't come back. He doesn't want to do it again. Ever.

There's also Thea to think about. Thea, who is torn apart by her mother's involvement in Malcolm's schemes. Thea who has him but still needs her brother and doesn't understand why he left her again.

And while saying Tommy's feelings about his father's death are complicated is the understatement to end all understatements, he does know that his father was capable of killing Oliver, and would have if given the chance.

He can't hate Oliver for keeping himself alive. He can hate Oliver for not telling him the truth, for never wanting to tell him the truth, and he can hate Oliver for the secrets and the lies to everyone, but it's all hollow. It eats at him, and it scrapes at his soul. He's not fond of the sensation.

Besides, if he looks in the mirror while he's angry, the face staring back at him is Malcolm's, and that is unacceptable.

"All right," he tells Felicity. "Where is he?"

He doesn't like her answer, but then, he suspects she doesn't like it much either.

Especially when it means jumping out of a plane.

Tommy, Felicity, and John Diggle land on the beach of Lian Yu and trek through an overwhelming amount of jungle before an unfortunate step of Felicity's causes them to stop. John stays calm, but Tommy feels like there's no way on earth he could possibly suck enough air into his lungs.

The last thing he expects is a shirtless Oliver swinging down from the trees like he's Tarzan and pulling Felicity off of the land mine before it can explode.

When they stand up and Oliver's taken a moment to make sure Felicity is okay—Tommy can tell by the way his hand lingers on her shoulder before sliding down her arm, coupled with the way Oliver frowns and draws his eyebrows together—John and Tommy hike over.

Oliver's clearly pissed, but none of it is directed at Felicity. Instead, he points a finger at John and snaps, "You shouldn't have come. You shouldn't have brought them here."

"I'm flattered that you think I'm the ringleader here, Oliver," John says.

Oliver turns to Tommy by the time John is halfway through that sentence, but Tommy cuts Oliver off before Oliver can turn his irritation on him. "Seriously, Oliver? There's a whole world out there and you come back here?"

Oliver lets out a huff of breath and turns away.

"Could you at least pretend like you're glad to see us?" Felicity asks. "We spent weeks tracking you down, we traveled halfway across the world, and this morning we flew in a plane so old I'm pretty sure I was safer when I jumped out of it—

"Screaming," Tommy adds. "Loudly."

She gives him an annoyed look. Tommy holds up his hands in mock surrender and lets her continue.

Before she can, Oliver has a hand on her shoulder. Her mouth snaps shut. His tone is gentle when he says, "I am happy to see you."

"You could act like it," Tommy can't help but point out, although really, Felicity is the only one of them Oliver actually is acting happy to see.

Now, Oliver looks at him. "I failed," he says softly. "I couldn't stop what Malcolm was planning, and people got hurt. Besides, the way I stopped him…"

He can't seem to bear to look at Tommy anymore.

Tommy hadn't spent much time contemplating the fact that Felicity could be right about Oliver leaving because of him, but this confirms it.

"You did what you had to do," Tommy says firmly. "I can see that, Oliver. If you're here seeking some kind of absolution or penance, you don't need to be. You can come home."

Oliver turns away, but Tommy reaches for his shoulder. "Come home, Oliver."

And, miracle of miracles, Oliver does.