Author's note:
Hey everyone! This is just something I've been think about lately. It takes place mostly in the future with a flashback to four years ago – around the time the show is in presently. But, none of the events post 3x14 have occurred (though that may change) for the sake of the story. Enjoy.
The Games We Play, the People We Lose
It is better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all. ~Alfred Lord Tennyson
Chapter One
As a general rule, these days he tastes of orange tic-tac's and his favourite imported roast – it was her favourite first.
Tossing back mints three at a time, to keep his mouth busy – drinking cup after cup to stop from drowning in his own thoughts – if he can't keep his hands otherwise occupied.
His days of vigilantism in Starling City are long over. Though Team Arrow – minus the Arrow – is still going strong, working side by side with the SCPD to keep the streets clean and the city safe – who knew the day would actually come?
At least that's what he's been told. That's what Diggle says when they occasionally speak on the phone; it's what Roy will pass on when he sends him an email once every six months.
But Oliver knows this – knows it all. Because he may have left Starling in the physical sense, but he is still very much there.
His head is very much there, looking in on his family, his friends – making sure they aren't in danger.
His heart – it is fair to say that Oliver Queen left his heart in Starling City because he doesn't believe in holding onto things that aren't his. And Oliver's heart hasn't belonged to him for a long time.
The thing is, Oliver will never stop worrying about her.
Thea has Roy and…Malcom.
And she has Roy and Diggle and…him – Ray. But even that is not enough.
He will never stop caring, never be less uneasy about her well-being and her safety.
It isn't in his nature.
It doesn't work like that – not when you love somebody, not when thoughts of her consume you day in and day out – when all you can think of is how she used to smile when your eyes met through the glass of the office walls. Or how relief would flood her gaze when you'd make your way back down the stairs after an evening patrol – still standing, in one piece.
He thinks that some part of him had hoped that their relationship would run its course – a few enjoyable victory laps around the track – and that they would then amicably part ways – Felicity and Ray.
Sure, he knew they had hit it off – he had seen them after all, had unintentionally been privy to an intimate moment or two. But he never really thought…that it would go so far…?
It's hypocritical of him, not to mention selfish – he knows. Either way, his intentions were sincere; there is no denying that.
It was strange.
It was a strange feeling – a slow, stinging burn that transformed into a chill in his veins.
When he came to the realization that Ray Palmer would be good for her.
Would be good to her.
When Oliver could ascertain that he was indeed a good choice for Felicity. An excellent choice.
However, absence does make the heart grow fonder (and fonder yet). Time doesn't heal all wounds. And the yearning never subsides.
The course of true love never did run smooth. (Which is all the Shakespeare he probably remembers from freshman English, but how true it is, he appreciates.)
He never afforded himself a glance at future outcomes – at the happenings of the now that would manifest in the consequences of later. Thinking about it now, it hits him like a tornado, uprooting his entire being and throwing him on his head.
He'd had the wind knocked out of him on numerous occasions, but nothing came even close to the likes of that blow.
That day is etched into memory, outlined in permanent marker and then very deeply – expertly – filled in.
Everything changed after that.
Everything.
*4 years ago*
He had been training all day – it was a Saturday – trying to get out of his head, leaving his thoughts lagging behind. So far, he hadn't been successful.
Lyla had called earlier to invite him to dinner. He appreciated the gesture, but he politely declined, feigning prior engagement.
It was their first care-free Saturday in a while and he didn't want to impose on the already too limited family time the Diggles had. And truthfully, he just didn't have the energy – was burned out.
It was then that his phone rang.
Oliver wasn't one for customized ringtones and specialized alerts, but nevertheless he knew who his caller was.
"Right on cue Diggle," he started without preamble.
"Oliver. Anything I can do to change your mind about tonight?"
"You know John, if I can hit the sack later, it would probably work in everyone's favour."
He paused before continuing, "It's been a little difficult lately…"
The rest of his sentence went unfinished; he didn't need to elaborate, after all it was John on the other end.
He could almost hear Diggle's understanding nod through the line.
"Sarah just wanted me to check on her uncle Owiva. You know where we are if you change your mind."
"Give her a kiss for me. And tell Lyla I said thank you. Go, enjoy your family Digg."
It was hard to miss the wistfulness of Oliver's tone. But John wasn't going to push.
As the evening progressed, it turned out that Oliver was not the only restless soul in the city.
At around 7:00 Oliver heard steps being dragged slowly down the stairs.
It was Roy, looking rather worse for wear.
"You too?" Oliver asked. The younger man almost tripped over his own shoes.
It wasn't a pretty sight.
Roy hadn't realized he had company.
"Jeez Oliver, give a guy some warning; it would be the decent thing to do."
"I'm sorry man, bad move."
Roy nodded, giving him an almost half-smile
"What's got you so on edge?" Oliver asked, eying him closely.
Rubbing a tired hand over his eyes, Roy shrugged in response.
"Iunno man, just needed to let off steam. Can't deal with the club right now – all those people."
Oliver knew the feeling all too well. He wished it didn't burden the young man so.
"Have you eaten?" he said turning to Roy.
"Nah, wasn't up for it."
"How about we work out our aggressions on the mat for a bit and then we'll order pizza."
Oliver gauges his younger partner's reaction, "We'll both have worked up an appetite by the time I beat your ass."
"Sure thing, lead the way old man," Roy retorts.
-/-
Turned out that Roy had been training with Diggle – really training – he had no problem holding his own against Oliver, which made the older man very proud.
He made sure to tell Roy so.
The Pizza arrived slightly after 9 and to say that they devoured it would be an understatement.
But now it was close to 10 and Roy had just left, deciding to brave it out and go back to the club to see Thea.
It was then that Oliver heard the rampant clicking of heels and familiar whispered curses. Oliver was lying on his cot in the far corner, hidden from view. He very slowly got up and assumed a sitting position on the thin mattress, feet planted firmly on the floor.
Did he stay hiding in the dark or did he come out and greet her?
Felicity hurriedly made her way down the steps and made a beeline for her desk. She was in the middle of moving some papers around, searching for something apparently.
Oliver was contemplating his next move. Was he up for this conversation?
Her fingers were moving frantically, flipping through folders and turning over pages; she was clearly looking for something.
Had he not been watching carefully when she turned slightly to her left, he would have missed it altogether.
Something appeared to catch the light – sparkling brilliantly – with every movement of her hand. Something that – if he wasn't mistaken – was nestled onto the second last finger of her left hand.
It was round and remarkably well-cut – it had to be if it was catching the light and refracting it so.
But it couldn't be…
…could it?
A satisfied shriek and a "found it" later, it became clear that Felicity had come back for her phone.
She was in and out within minutes, never once stopping to look around.
Oliver had never been more thankful, had never been more grateful for his inaction.
That night was one of the longest – since the island.
And that, spoke volumes.
It wasn't until Monday that he heard the actual words and took a good look at, yes, the ring.
Ray Palmer was a good man.
Ray Palmer was a braver man.
Tbc…
I'm hoping to continue this, the next chapter will be set in the present again and may have flashbacks…not sure just yet. Thank you so much for reading and please feel free to share your thoughts. Cheers