This is how it starts: A mark. A burning mark. Some insecurity, a lot of anger, a decent size of fear, and love.

Of course, there was love.

He must've forgotten she would see it. When she took his pants off, that is. The gaping knife wound in his hamstring, she figured, was a credible excuse.

She freezes, unable to think about anything other than the matching (almost) arrow shaped birthmark that resided on his upper thigh. One look into his eyes and she could tell. He knew. He definitely knew. And maybe for quite a while.

"Felicity," Oliver sighs, struggling to get into a sitting position.

"Uh uh," she shakes her head softly, quietly praying the tears that had welled into her eyes wouldn't shed. No wonder she's had a slight burning sensation on her lower back since she heard him calling for help over the comms. She reaches behind her to touch her mark and flinches when it aches a bit to the touch. This was not an uncommon sensation. How had she never put this together?

Diggle, seemingly oblivious to the life altering moment happening between the two, sets down the supplies to stitch up Oliver's wound on the table next to her.

"You got this, Felicity? It's relatively minor. I'd do it myself, but Lyla -"

"I've-" Her voice cracks and she pauses to take a moment to recollect herself. "No, John, go. I can – I can do it."

"O-kay," Diggle says slowly. He tilts his head, scrutinizing her. He must see something because he decides, "I'll be back in an hour." He exits.

Felicity grabs the needle and takes a deep breath. Annoyingly, her female mind is working against her and it is almost impossible not to think about all the reasons why Oliver wouldn't tell her - he doesn't find her attractive; he thinks she swears too much; he's still desperately in love with Laurel; he just can't think of her in that way. Oliver watches her closely and just as she's about to put needle to skin, he lays his hand on her shoulder.

"Don't," she bristles. His hand drops heavily back on to the med bay.

He starts softly, remorse clear in this throat. "Felicity,"

"No, Oliver. Just leave it alone. I get it. You don't need to explain anything to me."

She sets down the needle, recalling that she needs to clean the area before suturing. She tries desperately to remember all the steps John has taught her, but the ache in her chest is getting stronger.

"Felicity, I –"

She slams the guaze down on the table next to her and it rattles loudly. "No, Oliver. Fuck you."

"Excuse me?" He raises his eyebrows in shock.

"No!" A few tears fall onto her cheeks and she swipes at them hastily. "No. Fuck you for not wanting me." She takes in quick, shuddering breath. "Because I am great. I am. Great! I'm smart and funny and-and-and witty. And I don't believe I'm horribly offensive to look at. And if you don't feel like 'settling' with me, okay. That's fine. But it is my life, too. I don't - "

"Stop it." He glares at her angrily. "Don't put yourself down like that."

But she can't help it. Because, yeah, she's strong and smart and independent and brave, but she's also got this desperate, insecure little girl inside of her that has been waiting for her soul-mate since the day she found out about them and this was just so not how she saw her fairy tale ending.

"The only person putting me down is you." She stabs the nail of her index finger into his chest and he grabs her hand, pulls it to his chest, keeping her close.

Regrettably, she starts crying again. And it's worse this time because their faces are inches away from each other. He's staring right at her, and the fact that he did not want to tell her immediately upon knowing hurts her feelings so much. And yes, she has feelings, because apparently she's twelve and can't summon up the energy to act like a functional adult. So, she cries. Because she's angry.

"Fuck you for not thinking I'm great." She chokes out faintly and Oliver is shaking his head furiously.

"It's the opposite. It's the exact opposite." He says adamantly. He's always been a man of few words and it has never frustrated her more than it does in this moment. She's literally swearing at him – screaming at him to give her something, anything. Yet he gives her nothing. And if she thinks about it, that's all this is about anyway. The fact that he doesn't want to give himself to her – that he wants to give and take nothing from her.

She's not above admitting that it stings.

"Yeah, right. I'm so great and so beautiful and so not-awkward and that's why immediately upon seeing our mark you didn't want to fall into my arms and be with my forever. No, I get it. That makes perfect sense. It sounds just like every other soulmate story that's ever existed."

She tries to pull away from him, but he holds on tighter.

"Felicity." He stares into her eyes so intently and she knows he's trying to tell her something but all she's getting is he doesn't want her. Not enough. And how can her soul mate not want her? She must be the only person on the entire planet who's soul-mate found them and decided not to be with them out of their own free will. God, what is so wrong with her that nobody wants to keep her?

"You know – you have known how I feel about you, Felicity." Oliver declares. "You know that none of the shit that you are thinking in that brain of yours is true. You know that."

She knows how he feels. Of course, she knows. She knows exactly what he's going to say before he says it. Because she always knows what he's thinking - at least a little bit. And, wow, now that she thinks about it, it makes a lot of sense – they're soulmates. They're connected to each other; and why oh why doesn't he want to be with her?

Felicity has always felt in tune with him and she just knows that his next words are going to be about distractions. About how he couldn't be with anyone (how he couldn't be with her); how he can't distract himself from his mission (how loving her is a distraction); that the city comes first (and that she, consequently, comes last).

Yet, knowing all of this, the only words that come out of her mouth are,

"All I know is that you're full of shit."

Oliver nods; using his other hand he rubs her back soothingly. "You're angry."

Felicity scoffs, throwing her free hand in the air. Very aware of how close she still was in Oliver's presence. "No shit, Sherlock!"

She shakes her head and takes a small step back. "If you didn't want to be with me all you had to do was let me know so I could… so I could've… so I could stop pointlessly and longingly waiting around. I was just waiting around and hoping, every day I was hoping, that my soulmate was just around the block or at the coffee shop down the street. And that he was just waiting for me to clumsily and awkwardly bump into his life, but it would be okay because he would find it adorable and charming and I would find him charming too and he would just be so great and so amazing that I could just forget!"

With his eyebrows scrunched together, he asks, "What are you trying to forget?"

"This!" She waves her hands back and forth between them. "Forget about this thing I thought we had that was screwing with my mind. Because I'm a romantic and I believe in true love. And this-this thing we have… I couldn't feel the way I feel about you if we weren't meant to last. To the point where I was almost thinking 'Screw, soulmates! I really like this guy and I think really likes me, too. You know, most days. And we're perfect for each other because we're a team. We're partners. And maybe that'll be enough for me. Maybe that'll be enough for him.' But it isn't, is it?"

They stare at each other as she calms herself. And she hates the word hysterical and all its historical connotations, but the way she's ranting right now has her feeling very much emotionally out of control. She continues softly, "And to find out that Oliver Queen was the one guy that the universe decided was perfect for me and then find out that he doesn't even want to be with me. That he doesn't think we'd ever work out. That he never loved me. That just… it just… it hurts."

Oliver's eyes darken and he uses the arm that he is holding to bring her in closer – so that her chest is pressed against his own. He smashes (somehow gently) his mouth onto hers. He hums a sound of contentment, her lips parting in surprise. His tongue slips between her lips and she kisses him back. Of course, she kisses him back. He chases her mouth, kissing her like he's a starving man and the back of her throat had the last drop of fresh drinking water.

He drops the hand that had a death grip on her forearm and cups her face. He whispers into her mouth, "Felicity, you believe whatever you need to believe to make this okay for you. But don't you dare ask me to let you believe that I don't love you."

A lone tear falls out of her eye and she's just so fucking sick of crying. She leans her forehead against his. "This isn't fair."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"I'm not gonna beg you to be with me. If you don't want me, I don't want you." Felicity says firmly, hoping that now that it's out there in the universe that that statement will become fact.

He wipes at a tear underneath her eye, saying nothing. He just holds her close.

"I'm never going to be able to forgive you for this. For making decisions for me. For not choosing me."

"I know. I'm so sorry." Oliver mumbles against her lips, his voice cracking. At least she knows this isn't easy on him either. That doesn't make it sting any less though.

She pulls back and grabs the needle from the table next to them. She takes a deep breath, signaling that she is about to begin. He clenches his jaw in preparation and she sticks the needle through his skin.

(And here's a secret: the fact that he's not numbed makes her feel a little bit better.)

.

"Felicity, I need you to run an analysis on the blood we found on that quiver ASAP. I need you working around the clock on this."

"Absolutely," Felicity swivels in her chair to face Oliver, who is leaning on the table a few feet away from her, watching her. God, is he always watching her. And saying her name. He is obsessed with her name. "Except for tonight."

He raises a questioning eyebrow and when she doesn't offer additional information asks, "What is occupying your time tonight?"

"You gave me the night off tonight, Oliver. I can't stay." She shrugs her shoulders, attempting to stir up a casual and playful atmosphere. But they're not playful anymore. At best, they're courteous. Professional, even. She's been trying to keep her distance and she can tell he's trying to respect that, but he's struggling. He's used to asking her opinion about anything and everything, so the distance is felt and noticed. By everyone. And now that they both know and have acknowledged that the other is their soulmate, the pull toward each other is even stronger. It hurts even deeper.

She just wants to go back to four weeks ago when she didn't know and she was simply only crushing on him from afar and she was moderately happy and blissfully ignorant.

"We talked about this days ago, Oliver. I cleared it with you."

He didn't remember.

And, of course, he didn't. If it didn't have to do with the mission or Starling City or (she hates herself for saying this but) Laurel, he doesn't retain it. And maybe it's a good thing he's rejected her soulmark. She's gotten pretty tired of coming in second place.

"This is incredibly important, Felicity. Is there any way you can cancel? We need you here."

She can feel herself wavering, but no, she promises herself. She was going to have a life outside of his world and this is the first step. Separation. "No, Oliver. I really can't."

"Well," He looks around agitated. He straightens while folding his arms across his chest. "What exactly is it that you have to do? Maybe I can get someone to do it for you. Or I could do it. Is it like an errand? I can run a few errands for you while you –"

"Oliver? No." She insists. "You're not hearing me. I am not going to be here tonight. I am very sorry, but I have a date and I've cancelled twice already. I cannot cancel again. I will be unable to assist you on your mission tonight."

Oliver swallows visibly, lightly (and most probably subconsciously) rubbing their mark on his upper thigh. "Oh."

"Yeah."

This is awkward. So incredibly awkward. She detests feeling like this and she hates the look on his face. But what she hates even more is that he has the audacity to look as if she has just broken his heart when he's the one who made this choice.

He coughs. "Okay. So, I mean, wow… Is this – Is this it then? Have I lost you in my life completely?"

She huffs, grabbing her purse and jacket together in an effort to leave. "Oliver, I'm so not having this conversation with you right now. I just can't. We can do this later. Or not at all. My preference would be not at all."

Not to mention Diggle's in the room and he looks wildly interested and invested in the scene playing out in front of him.

"Felicit– " His voice breaks. He pauses and covers his face with one of his large hands. His thumb rubs furiously at his eyebrows. She waits (of course, she waits) as he pulls himself together. He lowers his hand and stares at her, frowning. His eyes are glistening and she hopes to God he isn't crying because he did this and fuck him for making this that much harder for her to move on. The last thing she needs right now is fucking proof that this separation is hard on him too. That he feels something, too. He opens his mouth – once, twice, three times – and nothing comes out.

Finally, she disrupts the silence. "Oliver, I deserve to be with someone who wants to be with me. I've been wasting a lot of time, so I've gotta get back to living my life for me now. But my commitment to this mission, whether I am involved with someone or not, has not changed. You, Diggle and I – we're a team. But, tonight, I am going on that mother fucking date. And I am moving on. From you. I am moving on from you."

On that note, she exits the foundry walking purposefully and confidently. Because she is moving on. She is. And Oliver goddamn Queen is not going to get in her head - he will not get in her way.

(She doesn't go on the date. She does, however, find out exactly how many episodes of Doctor Who she can watch before she'll need to get up to go to the bathroom. The answer is 5.)

.

She moves on. Truly and (surprisingly) pretty swiftly.

His name is Ray Palmer and he sees her potential. He names her Vice President of his company and they've been thriving as successful business partners ever since. One day it just became more.

Ray's soulmate died a few years back and with it came the scarring of his soulmark. He was the perfect match for Felicity. Ray was searching for companionship and Felicity was searching for someone to want her. And, boy, did he want her. And often.

It gets serious. Fast. They move from co-workers to fling to living together to serious so quickly that she surprises herself. She's been alone for so long she almost forgot what it was like to have someone love her. And he loves her. And she thinks she loves him, too. At least she tells him she does. It's just that they're moving so fast and there's so many emotions and she's sure her heart will catch up eventually. But, anyway, it's serious. They're serious. About each other.

(Sometimes she wonders if they're both overcompensating, but she'll store that thought away for examination at a later date.)

Everyone is born with a soulmark. The soul is ready and willing to connect and bond with its mate the very second it enters the world. It is a strong and passionate and wild kind of bonding that makes loving the other effortless and, upon acceptance of the bond, everlasting. It is not, however, uncommon for two people to love and marry someone who is not their soulmate. Most people don't search for their soulmates, instead falling in and out of relationships until they meet the perfect person. Or settle.

Also, there's the fact that the denying of love from others because one is waiting for their soulmate is not highly encouraged by the government. It was more socially beneficial that individuals didn't wait to procreate with a soulmate that they may never meet.

When she found out a good three months later that he had his own mission to save the city, at first she thought fucking kill me, then she thought oh my god, I have a goddamn type. But, then once she realizes that he wants them to be true partners, in his work and in his life; that he valued everything about her from her mind to her heart; that he was making plans that he wanted to include her in and that he had goals and hopes for them, she couldn't say no.

Thus began the longest three-month period of her life. Splitting time between two missions and a corporate job was not easy. It was a time period in which sleep was only a figment of her imagination. And somewhere along the way she began to feel different. Not just mentally, but physically. Her body was trying to tell her something, but she just wasn't ready (or willing) to hear it.

Ray eventually gets in over his head.

He starts going after some incredibly dangerous people and he was incredibly (and dangerously) unprepared. It backfires. His identity is revealed to them and it leads them to her. Which eventually leads her and her mother to a chair in the back corner of an old warehouse, in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with a bomb strapped to her chest.

One thing is true: her life is never boring.

When she finds out its her old college boyfriend, Cooper, she just wants to scream. Has anyone ever loved her for her and not just to get something from her (her hacking, her ideas, and in this special instance, her father)? It hurts too much to think about and there's no room for it in her mind - especially when she's trying to focus on not crying because she could potentially blow herself and her mother up with just one false move.

Her anxiety levels skyrocket when Cooper holds a gun to her mother's head in an effort to force her to obtain information for him. It works. Felicity's been crying steady for a good hour now and she doesn't know who she's more afraid for – her or her mother.

She's fucking terrified and her stomach is screaming. Hope springs when she hears a ding come from her the watch Ray had placed on her mother's wrist earlier that day – his version of flowers when they met earlier this morning. She grabs her mother's wrist and tells her to sit very still. She's able to type a quick message and with how much time she spends on computers, she doesn't need to see the keyboard to know her message was done properly. It does help that she helped Ray develop the watch and she knows the ins and outs and ups and downs of everything regarding the mainframe of their tech-watch.

(It doesn't escape her attention that she contacts Oliver instead of Ray.)

They don't talk anymore. Her and Oliver, that is. Well, they talk about the mission and which bad guy they're currently "arrowing" but outside of that it's just hello and goodbye (mostly goodbyes). And it's awful. It sucks and it hurts and it's no fun. So horrible that Diggle appoints himself as the team relationship mender volleying back and forth in effort to repair their relationship. A failed mission from the start. And the black eye Oliver sports the day after she finally tells Diggle what happened between them is, unfortunately, nowhere near as suspicious as it should be. The point is: they don't talk anymore. But, there's no else she trusts more with her life.

The Arrow arrives on the scene some time later and the inappropriate relief she feels when he places both of his hands on her cheeks, desperately searching her face to make sure she's okay will be filed somewhere between 'Forget he's your soulmate' and 'ongoing and unresolved abandonment issues'.

Oliver talks with Diggle over the comms as he presumably direct him how to disable the device strapped to her chest. But she's not really paying attention because she's crying so hard in relief (and a little in pain). She wants out. She wants out of this chair and she wants a break. She wants a break from everyone needing everything from her and never being able to need anyone else. She grabs her lower stomach and clenches her eyes shut tight. This pain won't go away and she's afraid she knows exactly why.

Oliver pauses his hands and searches Felicity's face urgently. "What's wrong?"

She scoffs, hoping that will end this line of questioning. "You mean other than the fact I'm strapped to a bomb and am currently putting you and my mother in mortal danger?"

"Yeah, uh, my, uh…" He moves his hand to his thigh. "It's burning."

Her mother gasps and she rolls her eyes up to the ceiling. This is the worst possible time for him to hand her mother a piece of juicy gossip like this. "You're her soulmate? You wear her mark?"

Oliver doesn't take his eyes off Felicity. "What's wrong?"

She grits her teeth for a few beats, fists clenched tight. She takes a few moments to catch her breath and then lets it out. "Nothing. When is Dig getting here?"

From behind her, her mother states, "You know that you're soulmates and your not together? I don't – I don't understand. I don't get it."

She lets out one hard laugh. "Join the club."

"Felicity!" He says urgently.

And she can't hold it in anymore (not that she was doing a particularly good job anyway). She knows what's wrong and none of it is good. Tears slip from her eyes at steady rate and she watches as the fear settles over Oliver's face and her mother begins to panic.

"Dig, hurry it up! I need you release her from this immediately."

"It h-hurts, Oliver. It hurts so bad." He grabs both of her hands in one of his own and pushes the hair, that was sticking to her cheeks, out of her face with his other hand.

"Baby, please tell me what's wrong?"

"I think I'm – " She bites her lips as her chin quivers violently. "I'm pretty sure I'm –"

"What, Felicity?" He presses urgently. "Let me help you."

"I'm miscarrying." She whispers.

Together they both slowly look down at her lap and notice blood seeping through the denim of her jeans from the inside of her thighs.

"Oh, god." Oliver stammers. Her mother reaches and grabs her hand tightly, but (for probably the first time ever in her entire life) she doesn't say a word.

"Diggle! Now!" Oliver shakes his head back and forth, most likely trying to compute the information he's just learned and make sense of it. She's currently doing the same thing. "Felicity, I'm so sorry."

And she breaks (again). Sobbing with her entire body, shoulders shuddering as she takes large, deep gasps. Her movements begin to shift the device and Oliver begins to panic.

"No, no, no, no. Felicity, no, baby. You've gotta stop moving." She shakes her head violently because she can't stop. She probably won't ever stop. She hadn't even admitted to herself that she was pregnant and now… now, it's gone. She's so far gone that she begins to fluctuate between hyperventilating and vomiting. Oliver acts as if he doesn't even notice as she covers his shoes with bile.

As Diggle storms into the room, Felicity is sobbing so hard that she has become silent. She can't even catch her breath in enough time before she begins the next sob and the force of it makes her chest burn.

"Felicity, calm down, honey. You've gotta be still. Stay still." At some point Oliver's arms must have gone around her body because he is holding her as Oliver chants this directly into her ear.

Diggle pauses momentarily, eyes widening as he assesses the situation. He quickly recovers and sets to work disarming the device. Once Dig is finished and the device stops ticking down to her eventual demise, her head falls heavily into her hands, her body shaking furiously.

"Okay," Oliver slips one arm under her blood-soaked thighs and keeps the other one behind her back, lifting her up. "I've got you."

She watches his mouth the word 'hospital' to John and John immediately sprints to get what she assumes is the car.

"I'm so sorry baby." She hears. But currently, it means nothing.

She does however note that she has never seen Oliver look so scared in his life. Not when his mom died, not when Thea was captured, not even when he was facing his own death. It gives her a lot to think about.

(But she's not so good at thinking now-a-days.)

.

A week goes by. And then a month. After mourning with Ray, they break up. He hadn't exactly reacted well to the fact that Oliver was her soulmate and that they worked so closely together. Information that was given to him only because he walked into her hospital room to see Oliver holding Felicity in the hospital bed as she silently cried herself to sleep. It didn't bother him so much at first until Oliver started showing up every single day at their front door to make sure she was feeling alright, to make sure she was eating alright or to ensure that she was getting enough sleep.

He always blamed it on his soulmark, but she knew it wasn't bothering him. His feelings were escalating for her, their bonding was getting stronger which only meant one thing. Oliver was starting to accept their bond, but she wasn't so sure that she was ready to do the same.

One day as she's hacking in the FBI's mainframe to access their missing persons records Oliver breaks his normal stoic character.

"You deserve someone without all these demons."

Her eyes widen and she spins in her chair. "Are you talking to me or your quiver?"

"I'm a murderer, Felicity." Oliver turns his face to look her in the eye. "I'm a bad guy."

She chastises. "Don't say shit like that."

"It's true. I am. I have done dark, terrible, malicious things. Things I will never tell you because I don't want you to look at me the way I look at myself." His eyes water quickly, but he doesn't allow one to spill. "I didn't want to… to – to taint you. With what I am. With what I have to offer. But, Felicity, I am sure that I cannot live one more moment without you being mine." Her eyes widen as he gets up and walks toward her. And all she's thinking is oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. This is happening.

"I thought I could be okay with it. I thought I could watch you live and love and move on with someone else and that I would be a better man for it because I saved you from a life of darkness – of bad. Of a life with…. me. But, I… that baby... It kills me that you almost had that with someone else. And I hate - I hate - that you had to go through that because of the life that the people around you lead."

A tear spills from his eye and it shocks her. She doesn't think she's ever seen Oliver cry. He leans over her, placing his hands on her computer desk encasing her in between his arms. He leans forward and she doesn't move. She's not sure if she wants to.

He looks her right in the eye as he begs, "Don't make a life with someone else, or start a family with someone else. Don't go back home to him. Don't dream of a forever with him. Don't, just, don't, please don't, love any other man. Ever again. Love me. Be with me. Fuck everything else. Fuck everyone else. You deserve to be happy and, you know what, I deserve to be happy, too! I want to be happy with you. Let's be happy together. Please, Felicity. I think, no I know, that you are great. So great. And funny and smart and witty. There is nobody in this entire world that I want to be with more than you. You are sunshine - you are a breath of fresh air. You are hope. You're my hope."

Tears fall onto her cheeks as silence falls between the two of them; so quiet she can hear the hands on the wall clock ticking. She can tell exactly when Oliver starts to freak out because he starts shaking his head back and forth as if he was mentally ramping himself up for a fight.

"I know I screwed up. I know! I know I made decisions for you and about you without you and that that is so screwed up. I know that. But if you could just… if you could just maybe love me anyway, despite all of that. I would be – It would just mean – I just – I love you so much. I'm fucking crazy about you, Felicity, and I can't- "

She stands up suddenly, shocking him and shuts him up. With her mouth, her hands grasping at his shirt. She's made him suffer enough.

She pulls back and pleads with him,

"Don't make me move on without you again."

"I won't."

And he doesn't.

He places his hand on the mark he knows is residing on her lower back and he feels it.

And it feels like… home.

This is how it ends: A mark. A burning mark. Some insecurity, a lot of fear, a decent size of anger and love.

A crazy amount of love.


This story will most likely be two chapters. I just can't help feeling this couple's story isn't finished yet.

Also, this story is kind of just a complete, steady, and random stream of consciousness for Felicity. It's also my little take on the soulmate AU. I had this in my head for a while and tried to spill it out on a page as fast as I could before I lost the motivation. I'm going through a bit of a writer's block and I decided that this story would help me through it.

I may be doing a drabble collection soon if you want to send me your prompts! I'd love to read them!

Follow me on twitter AngieFerrari947

Thanks for reading! I'd love to know what you think!

Angie :)