Don't
By
Starsearcher
A/N: Just a little scene that I think should have been at the end of Ep. 3.02 "Sara". Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything
"I don't want to die down here."
That's what he had said, and he had meant it.
The lair had always felt like a safe space, a place where he could be alone and think, a place where his wounds had healed and where they, as a team, had worked together to save this city. Even when Slade had intruded upon the sanctity of this place, had smashed it into pieces, it had still felt something like home.
Now, it just felt cold.
He couldn't stop staring at the metal slab where Laurel had placed her body. Each of them had taken their fair share of turns on that table – unconscious, wounded, even near death – but they had all opened their eyes sooner or later. It had been a place for rest, for a temporary sleep as they recovered. It wasn't supposed to be so cold. So permanent.
He couldn't stop seeing her body there. Eyes frozen open, fear etched across her face, a face that had looked far too young. He couldn't stop seeing his own body there, couldn't stop wondering who would be around to close his eyes for the last time, as he had done for her.
Instinctively, he shut his eyes against the image, willing it away. His jaw clenched as he tried to find something else - some kind of light to take his mind away from the horrors playing out inside his head.
"So don't."
Dig's words rang in his ears. They were so simple, but they felt like the heaviest, most difficult words in the world. The truth was he had started to think he wouldn't die down here, had started to believe that there could be a better life for him, a life that didn't have to end with him alone somewhere in a cold, dark place. But he had lost it for sure, and he knew he was terrified to face the consequences of what he had done.
"We're not our masks. And we need people in our lives who don't wear one."
He could hear her voice so clearly, as if she were sitting right next to him. It was as if she had known then, known exactly what he had been thinking, known that he was probably going to ruin the best thing that had happened to him in a long time. Don't be stupid, Ollie, her voice echoed in his thoughts.
Don't.
He stood up from the stool, determination set on his face as he climbed the stairs and turned out the lights below.
Twenty minutes later, the door cracked open, and his eyes – already brilliant with barely restrained tears – met with blonde strands tied back in a messy ponytail, mismatched blue and green pajamas, and large, tired eyes behind slightly damp glasses.
"Oliver – what –?"
"I want more, too," he said quietly. His voice trembled at the end. Part of him wanted to turn away, to run, but the cold still lingered around him, reminding him of the emptiness that threatened to consume him.
But then she smiled - a beautiful, warm smile. She opened the door further and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her skin was warm against his, and she tugged gently, bringing him into her apartment. He melted into her, his head heavy against her shoulder, and when the first sobs began to wrack his body, she only held him tighter, whispering incoherent words of comfort into his ear. It was everything he wanted, and everything he needed, and as he let the pain in and the tears out, Oliver did something he had not done since he was a child.
He shut his eyes tightly and clung.