Author's Note:
This chapter weaves in and out of the ARGUS med bay scene at the end of Arrow 5x20. The episode was damn near perfect, before going off the rails a bit at the end. So, I fixed it. For, you know, science.
I hope everyone enjoys my attempt at a little pixie dust making everything better. I recognize that the topic of the break-up and reconciliation is a hot one in the fandom and there are people who will disagree with my fix-it, thinking one or the other one of them needs to apologize more or less. I feel this is balanced, though, and hope you agree.
Most of the original episode dialogue has been summarized and skimmed over to avoid redundancy and because this is already too damn long.
(Don't) Let Me Go
Chapter One: (No) More Apologies to Give
Oliver struggled to regain consciousness. He didn't have the luxury of staying passed out.
Of rest.
Of death.
Felicity was depending on him. Completely. A thousand bad choices on Oliver's part had led to her being trapped underground, without the use of her legs, his most recent terrible decision causing him to bleed out and progressively become more and more useless.
Though…it would be a peaceful way to die.
And, after everything, would he really mind it? Slowly bleeding to death, fading away in Felicity's arms?
Hearing her words of forgiveness…
Oliver could finally rest.
Except…
No.
No…no…no…no…
If Oliver didn't get out of here, then Felicity didn't get out. And that was…totally unacceptable.
He could still hear the echo of Felicity's words, "Let me go…"
NO!
Oliver shoved himself back into consciousness.
He awoke with start, gasping for air. And, immediately, there was a hand on Oliver's chest, keeping him from sitting up, pushing him back onto the…mattress?
Blinking away the confusion, Oliver's foggy senses took in the over-bright room, the far from lush pillow behind his head, the unfamiliar voices…
"It's all right, Mr. Queen. You're safe in the ARGUS med wing."
It was a female voice and, while, it was probably a doctor or a nurse of some sort, Oliver hated waking up to strange voices. He tried to push against her hand, it should be easy to break free but he was too weak. Or too drugged. Fuck. Neither option was a good one.
"I've never seen a patient wake from anesthesia like that."
"You haven't had many with PTSD then. Another year here and you'll be amazed at what you see."
The second voice was male, also unfamiliar. When Oliver's finally managed to do their fucking job and focus, he saw that they were both in scrubs, surgical caps on their heads and masks hanging around their necks.
So, the team had managed to get them out and to ARGUS. That was good, except…
Where was Felicity?
And, of course, Oliver was having an even harder time getting his mouth to form the words than getting his eyes to focus. Goddamn anesthesia. He hated that shit. He managed to swallow around his dry scratchy throat and tried to remember…
They had gotten out. Oliver hadn't let go. He hadn't let Felicity fall. He had managed to pull her up. And Digg pulled them both out. The team had gotten them out of the ventilation shaft and…
Oliver didn't remember much after that. He just hoped those memories were real and not drug induced.
Wetting his lips, Oliver tried again, "Felicity?" It was a pitiful croak and they probably thought he was calling one of them 'Felicity' which he sure as hell as not. Fuck. Frustrated, Oliver tried clearing his throat and asked again, "Felicity, 'is okay?"
It came out pretty pathetic, but that was the least of Oliver's worries and at least it made some semblance of sense.
Mr. Blue Scrubs seemed confused and just wrinkled his eyebrows at him. It made Oliver feel pretty damn motivated to regain his strength, if only so that he could shove the idio out of the way and go find Felicity himself.
But the lady doctor/person came through. "I think that's the woman he came in with," she whispered to her colleague. "She's fine, Mr. Queen. No major issues. Well, except for that paralysis, which I was told wasn't new. Actually, I was told it was a tech issue?" And from her expression that was a new one for her. She really hadn't been at ARGUS long. "And since that's not my department, your friend was brought to someone who could help."
The wave of relief that followed was intense enough for Oliver to collapse back onto the bed from the weight of it. He hadn't even realized that he had managed to lift himself up in the first place, but…it didn't matter.
What mattered was it felt like Oliver could finally breathe again.
It was all okay now. Felicity was fine. Probably with Curtis, working on her chip. And, of course, Curtis would fix it. He was a genius. It was his masterpiece.
Please God, let that chip be fixable. Quickly fixable. Oliver hated the idea of Felicity being trapped in that chair for another minute.
His eyes flew around the austere room as he took stock and realized…he was still anxious. Fuck. He hated this. It was a itch beneath his skin and sitting still was torture. Being told by some stranger that she was okay wasn't enough reassurance. Oliver wanted…needed to know exactly where Felicity was.
No, he needed Felicity here. In front of him. Right the fuck now. That was the only way Oliver would really believe she was okay. And if she wasn't okay…
"His heart-rate is kinda high," the male idiot said.
Oliver really hoped he wasn't a doctor since…idiot.
Also, no shit. Oliver had a feeling that his heart-rate wasn't going to get any better until he saw Felicity, preferably walking, with his own two eyes.
Oliver pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw. He couldn't ask. Not anymore than he already had.
It wasn't his right.
Not any longer.
Christ, a year ago it had been Felicity in a hospital bed, his fiancé, and Oliver had avoided visiting her. And at that time, she had every right to want him there. No, to expect him to be at her side and, now, he was laying here…with no rights what-so-ever and…
He was pathetic. But Karma really was a bitch.
"He probably needs more pain medicine."
Oliver's eyes snapped open and flew to the tall man in the scrubs. He'd been wrong. That man wasn't an idiot. He was an asshole.
Leveling said asshole with his best Green Arrow stare, Oliver hissed, "No."
"Are you sure?" the woman asked, not sounding even a little impressed by his Arrow voice. When the fuck had that stopped working? "Your heart-rate is awfully high."
"I'm fine," Oliver all but growled. Then, realizing that they could be interpreting his tone as 'in pain,' he cursed himself. The pain wasn't even that bad. But that feeling of being drugged…Oliver could feel that. The foggy, blurry edge…God, he despised that feeling.
Oliver started to argue further, trying for less vigilante and more mayoral, but the lady doctor walked to the door and called for someone named 'Ruth'.
When an older woman with a no-nonsense expression walked in carrying a small IV bag, Oliver just about lost it. They were giving him more drugs over his dead body. After that fucking Methane, he was so done being stoned.
"I said, 'No!'" Oliver snapped as this Ruth tried to grab his arm.
Had Oliver said he was going to try a less Green Arrowy approach? Fuck that! That was before they tried to drug him.
But Ruth was even less impressed than Dr. Lady. She just tilted her head to the side and gave Oliver a hard stare over her glasses. "I don't think you want to refuse your antibiotic, Mr. Queen. Mayors can't do much good with Sepsis. Neither can Vigilantes."
Did everyone in ARGUS know about their 'secret' identities?
Also, Goddamn it, Oliver really liked Ruth. He had a soft spot for strong woman in glasses.
"Your large intestine was torn from whatever impaled you," Asshole/Idiot said. Him, Oliver did not like. "We sewed it up without too much trouble, but you'll need some really heavy-duty antibiotics."
Ruth grabbed Oliver's arm again and, this time, he let her do her job with only a petulant eye-roll in protest. Though, if they tried to slip pain meds in there, heads were going to roll.
The doctors-slash-medical people started telling him about the rest of his surgery and injuries, but Oliver wasn't listening. Her really didn't care.
He wasn't dead. That was good. Really, that was all Oliver needed to know.
Now, all Oliver wanted was to be left alone with his thoughts. The events of the last 24 hours were coming back to him and he…he really needed to be alone to process it all.
He could handle Thea or Digg, they'd know what to do. To talk when he needed it and to sit in silence when he didn't. Or Felicity…God, he wished Felicity was there. She could say anything she wanted.
But Oliver couldn't have that so…if everyone else could just leave him the fuck alone that would be great.
"I think Mr. Queen needs his rest."
That came from Ruth. God, Oliver loved Ruth. She was definitely his favorite.
Oliver murmured, "Thank you," and even managed a pleasant smile. The effort paid off and it earned him a subtle wink over her fabulous glasses as Ruth ushered the other two out of the room.
When he was finally alone, Oliver blew out a breath and leaned his head back, closing his eyes. He'd really thought this was it this time. It had been a long time since he had been so certain he was going to die.
God, had Oliver really confessed…everything to Felicity? Told her about the real reason he had started killing? Told her about the monster inside of him?
And…had Felicity actually absolved him?
No, she hadn't absolved him. Because Felicity hadn't actually believed him. Hadn't believed that Oliver enjoyed killing. Which he didn't. Not anymore, but once…
Maybe, Felicity was so used to seeing the best in him that she didn't understand what Oliver had been trying to say. Maybe, she was just too stubborn and too good to believe it was true. But…for the first time since the words left his mouth in Chase's dungeon, Oliver considered the possibility that…that it wasn't true. At least…
Well, there was a truth to it. Anatoli had seen it in him. Oliver knew that he felt a thrill…especially early on in his vigilante career…a relief when he held someone's life in his hands, someone horrible, and he just…ended it. Ended it forever.
But now that Felicity's words came back to him…maybe 'liking it' was an over simplification of something incredibly complicated. And, maybe...just maybe, Oliver had changed. Wasn't that man, that monster anymore.
If Felicity, the smartest, most intuitive person he'd ever known could see a good man underneath…
After all, Felicity had seen Oliver at his worst, been a victim of some of his poorest choices…
Well, maybe, the monster wasn't his core. Maybe something else was. Something worth finding.
And, maybe, Oliver's crusade wasn't a lie after all.
He was glad he told her. Oliver couldn't believe he'd found the courage to do it, but he was so very glad that he'd had the opportunity and the impetus…blood loss or gas or whatever. Even if that was selfish…
But, no, Felicity deserved to know. Oliver hated the idea of her walking around thinking he didn't trust her. He'd always known it wasn't true, but hadn't the first clue how to convince her of that. Until last night.
So, if this was enough to finally prove to Felicity that Oliver trusted her, trusted her far more than he trusted himself, then that alone was worth it.
"Hey."
Oliver glanced up to see Lyla in the doorway. Not the woman he most wanted to see, but it was good to see a familiar face. And, also, someone who knew what the hell he was talking about when he asked about Felicity.
"Hey. How's—?"
"Everyone's fine," Lyla answered, cutting Oliver off with that straightforward way she had. "And the Bunker didn't blow up, you'll be glad to know."
Oliver managed to smile, even though that wasn't exactly the information he was looking for.
"How are you feeling?" Lyla asked, coming over to stand at his bedside and handing him the controls to the bed when Oliver struggled to find it.
"Fine," Oliver muttered as he brought the bed into an upright position. That was better. He felt less like an invalid sitting up. But when he looked at Lyla she was giving him a disbelieving expression and he just shrugged. "Been worse."
A lot worse. Rather recently, actually.
Lyla shook her head like she didn't quite believe him, but she didn't press any further. She knew better than that. "Well, the team is outside. You up for visitors?"
He was up for one. As much as he loved them, the idea of dealing with Curtis or Rene right then made his skin crawl. Swallowing, Oliver asked, "Is Felicity…?"
He wasn't even sure how he wanted to end that sentence. 'Is Felicity out there too?' 'Is Felicity asking for him?' 'Is Felicity okay?' 'Is Felicity…?'
Lyla gave Oliver a knowing smile. Like she understood his mind better than he did. It didn't even irritate him. Not when she offered, "Do you want me to send in Felicity?"
Oliver swallowed, feeling guilty for asking for when he'd told himself he wouldn't. But so grateful to Lyla for offering, so he didn't have to say it first.
"Yeah. Yeah. I'd like that." Though, Oliver still didn't feel like he had the right.
Squeezing Oliver's hand, Lyla gave him one last smile. "I'm glad you're okay."
She was an incredible woman, Lyla Michaels. Forgiving too. After everything.
All Oliver could do was nod, his throat dry. He should ask if Lyla was okay. He wanted to know if…if she and John were okay, but he couldn't get anything else out.
And then Lyla was gone and Oliver watched his heart rate speed up on the monitor and, God-fucking-dammit, the last thing he needed during a talk with Felicity was a monitor telling her exactly how he was reacting to every word.
In frustration, Oliver tore off the horrible itchy hospital gown and the heart monitor leads. Then he realized that sitting there naked, waiting for Felicity was…really not going to work.
What was more, there was a bruise from where Felicity had shot him with adrenaline, right next the healing scars from the blow torch and…this was so not how Oliver wanted her to see him. Not now. Not yet. Not…fucking hell!
Oliver swung his legs off the bed and—
"Ahhh. Mr. Queen, don't you look spry for a man who just flatlined?"
Wincing, Oliver looked up to see that it was the lovely Ruth waltzing in. Thank God.
Trying for the sort of smile that always worked on Raisa, Oliver asked, "Ruth, could I possibly trouble you for a t-shirt and…pants?" (Because he was equally naked under these covers.)
Ruth gave him a disapproving look and went to grab a clean hospital gown. God, not that again. Nothing made Oliver feel more like an invalid than a hospital gown.
"Is it all possibly to get a t-shirt instead or…?" Oliver searched his brain for a reasonable argument to avoid the gown. Other than it was it was emasculating and he hated it.
Again, Sargent Ruth, sent him that look, one that Oliver was sure made grown men cower. So, he was definitely not going with the emasculating argument. He got the impression that she enjoyed doing that.
As Oliver waited for a recitation of a hundred and one reasons why hospital gowns were what they used and wondered if Ruth would get annoyed if he told her the gown was itchy.
But, then, Ruth surprised Oliver yet again. Rolling her eyes, she came over to unhook his IV before giving him a white t-shirt and a pair of scrub pants. He hadn't even had to beg. Which he was fully prepared to do, by the way. He hated hospital gowns that much.
Ruth was defiantly his favorite.
His face dissolving into a relieved smile, Oliver sighed, "Thank you so much."
Somehow, Ruth managed an even deeper eye roll. "You're going to be a difficult one, aren't you?"
"I'm hoping that I won't be here long enough to be difficult," Oliver muttered, pulling on the shirt and trying not to cringe as his wound pulled. That was the reason they used hospital gowns, but the last thing he wanted to do was to give the lovely Ruth a reason to take his prize away.
"Humph." Ruth re-hooked up the IV. "Just don't mess with this or you will be here long enough for me to become difficult."
Oliver gave his best obedient nod (again, always worked on Raisa. Well, it always worked on mom. It usually worked on Raisa) and smiled pleasantly until Ruth was finished and had pulled the door closed behind her.
Then Oliver hurriedly swung his legs over the edge of the bed and struggled into the pants. Pain be damned. He wasn't sure what was worse, Felicity walking in to find him half-naked or Felicity walking in to find him flat on the floor because he couldn't stay upright while putting on his pants.
Both. Definitely both.
Yet, somehow, Oliver managed to get the scrubs on and climb back under the covers. He didn't even reopen the wound. He thought. He was sweating and short of breath. And the pain…well, maybe, he'd agree to take a pill before he went to sleep. But just one.
Then there was nothing to do but sit and wait. Wait and sit.
Where was she? Oliver had been worried that Felicity would walk in before he was done and now…Lyla had been gone longer than it took to go to a nearby room and send Felicity back. Was something wrong? Something with the chip or…maybe, she wasn't feeling well?
Maybe Felicity didn't want to see him?
Or, maybe, he needed to stop being such an idiot. Felicity would come when she came. In the meantime, Oliver needed to at least try to appear relaxed and figure out what the hell he was going to say once he got her here.
Once, Oliver had found Felicity the easiest person in the world to talk to. In some ways, he still did, but…things had changed. He hadn't been able to talk to Felicity freely since…well, since he had killed her boyfriend.
Just thinking that sentence, Oliver felt that now familiar cold wave of hopelessness. That was the day that his hope that they would eventually reunite had died a hard, painful death.
Maybe, that was Oliver's punishment. Maybe, he deserved it. Even though it felt like the harshest fucking punishment anyone could have devised…
No, he couldn't think that way. It wasn't true and even thinking it was inviting bad things to happen. Felicity was alive. Thea was alive. William was alive. Oliver could handle being alone forever if the people he loved were safe.
Still, Oliver had to wonder if Chase had arranged him to kill Malone for exactly this reason. That Chase knew that destroying any chance Oliver had with Felicity would kill something inside of him.
Yet, after last night…or this morning…or who the hell knew…time had been meaningless in that dark basement…it didn't matter what day it was, what was important was that he and Felicity had reconnected, talked, been more open with each other than they had been…since ever.
Actually, Oliver didn't think he had ever been that open with someone. Not after Lian Yu. And…not before either.
Now, everything was out in the open. And Oliver had thought it would make everything worse, but…it didn't feel worse. It felt better. It felt…free. Of course, they had been fighting for their lives, so who knew how Felicity felt now, but...things seemed different.
This could have been what they needed. A few short months ago, Oliver would have hoped that maybe it was enough…
But after Billy, it was too little too late.
The most Oliver could hope to come from last night, now, was that their friendship could be healed. If things could go back to the way they were before he had ruined it by bringing his stupid feelings into that the mix…well, then that would be enough. It would have to be enough.
He heard the door and, immediately, Oliver's hands started to itch with the need to touch her, to reach out and…
Oliver laced his hands together and placed them in his lap. To keep himself from doing something stupid. And if his knuckles turned white, surely, Felicity would blame that on the blood loss.
Rehearsing his 'thank you's in his head, Oliver…
She walked in tall and, God, only his Felicity would walk in with heeled boots after being paralyzed for hours on end.
No, not his Felicity. Not anymore. Even if Oliver would always think of her that way.
The relief at seeing Felicity walking again was a punch in the gut, stealing Oliver's breath. "You're walking."
Oliver couldn't help but smile even as he took in Felicity's worried, drawn expression. Her face was streaked with soot and dried blood. Her clothing was ruined.
It was incredible how beautiful she looked.
And even more incredible was how relieved Felicity seemed to be at seeing Oliver. True, the last time he had seen her the chances of him continuing to breathe weren't looking all that good, but…the love in her eyes…no, that was just concern for a friend. He couldn't allow himself to think of it any other way.
Oliver made a stupid joke. Made light of his injuries (even though he was well aware of how very close a call this one was). All to keep himself from falling into that trap. He remembered quite clearly how much it hurt when he had misinterpreted their little slip-up in the bunker this summer.
He remembered how it just caused Felicity to put even more distance between them.
But, then, Felicity slipped her hand into his and squeezed and…Oliver was really glad that Ruth hadn't hooked him back up to those heart monitors.
Oliver pressed his thumbs to her fingers, holding them there, and…pushed ahead with the speech he'd been preparing in his head. He needed to get it out before he got trapped into…hoping.
So he thanked Felicity for her beautiful words, the ones that were even now pulling Oliver back from the brink, the same way her words had pulled him back a thousand times before, taking something he had been so certain of and turning it upside down, giving him a completely new perspective.
It made Oliver wonder when he was going to learn. If he just went to Felicity in first place, it would save so much time. And pain.
But, then, Felicity was apologizing and…
Oliver was thrown. What did she have to apologize for? He kept thinking he should stop her. Except, then Felicity mentioned Billy and Oliver had to wonder if she noticed the way his hands spasmed.
With guilt.
With jealousy.
With regret and that helpless feeling just the mention of Billy Malone brought Oliver.
But, then, before Oliver could even hope to be able to get a hold of that, Felicity turned it all around, saying she understood. Not about Billy. About…about why Oliver had lied about William.
It was kind of amazing and a miracle and Oliver really wished she'd share because most of the time he wasn't sure why he had lied about William. To her anyway.
But that didn't mean that her absolution didn't feel like fresh clean water flowing over his bruised and filthy soul. And Oliver was just selfish enough to let it. To hold his breath and let Felicity's words heal him.
"You know how you said that you didn't know what kind of person you are. I think you should figure that out."
Yeah, he should, but…
"Felicity," Oliver sighed her name, trying to gather his scattered thoughts.
He…he wasn't sure what kind of man he was, but Oliver knew that he wasn't the kind of man who could let Felicity take the blame for this. Not when it was entirely his fault.
"You don't have to absolve me for lying to you about William," as good as that felt, "you were right. I shouldn't have lied. I didn't…"
Felicity sucked in a sharp breath and held it. Oliver had a feeling that he knew exactly what she thought he was going to say.
She was wrong.
"I'm not going to say I didn't trust you." Oliver shook his head to emphasize that fact, praying that she would believe him. "Because…I know what I felt and the words 'I don't trust, Felicity,' have never once crossed my mind. Not once."
Felicity's face wrinkled up and Oliver wasn't sure if it was in disbelief or disgust or just…emotion. "Oliver—"
"Shhh." Because Oliver had to get this out before he lost his nerve. "I didn't interrupt your apology." And now with the joking. Was this really the time for the joking? Maybe, he had more pain meds than he thought in his blood stream.
But it made Felicity chuckle and squeeze Oliver's hand, she may have even swayed toward him a bit so…maybe, joking was a good call after all.
"I'm getting a second apology in less than twenty-four hours?" Felicity teased, though Oliver could see tears in her eyes. "And you're not even dying…you're not dying, are you?"
That made Oliver huff out a laugh. Felicity got him every damn time. "No. But it probably means you should let me finish."
Felicity's smile reached her shimmering eyes and she moved her free hand to make a locking motion over her lips and Oliver really, really wished that he had the right to kiss them again. Not that he was doing this to regain that right. Because that wasn't going up happen. Ever. He'd accepted that fact.
Deep breath and…now Oliver had to actually follow through with his promise. Hell. Okay, time for that apology. He better make it a good one too.
"I…I'm sorry, Felicity. For lying to you. For keeping things from you. I…I wish…" Oliver's throat closed and he had to look away or he wouldn't be able to finish. "I wish I'd told you as soon as I found out about William, as soon as I suspected. Before Samantha and her ultimatum. Sometimes…" He let out a bitter chuckle. "Sometimes, I think Samantha's demand was my punishment for not telling you right away."
"Oliver—"
He kept talking. He needed to keep up the momentum even if he didn't have the heart to shush her again. "I wish I could have been the kind of man you deserve." The emotion in his voice was obvious now and Oliver could tell by Felicity's indrawn breath that she wanted to stop him, so he spoke faster. "The kind of man who wouldn't shut down and retreat into himself when things get tough, locking away my…feelings…"
And, God, did it feel weird to say something like that out loud. It went against decades of being groomed to keep those things buried deep. "You deserve the kind of man who would have called you as soon as I saw a boy with Samantha in Jitters." Billy would have. Oliver was sure of that.
"Oliver, I…I can't even…" Felicity's voice sounded almost as wrecked as his did. She licked her lips and swallowed and all Oliver could do was stare and will himself to not cry. "But…I fell in love with you."
Oliver sucked in a breath, his eyes slipping closed and pushing those tears he hadn't wanted to fall out. God, every time Felicity said that it twisted him all up inside.
"I knew what kind of man you were." Felicity held up her hand as if to keep him from arguing. And Oliver did want to argue, but to what end he had no idea. "Even if you don't know yourself. And even that…that you weren't sure of who you were. Even that I knew. That was what was so unfair of me. I shut you out when I knew…or at least should have known that you were just doing something that was a part of who you were. Something I had accepted long ago."
Oliver really wanted to protest now. He was shaking his head almost continuously, but she looked so upset, so…passionate about what she was saying that he just held her hand as tightly as he dared and tried to memorize every word.
"I knew you were damaged and I accepted that," Felicity swore, pure emotion dripping from every word. "I loved who you were. Not despite the damage, but because of who it made you. Which is why it was so unfair of me to keep saying I hoped you had changed or would change or should change…I fell in love with the man you were…are. Not the man I wanted you to be."
Oliver sucked in a breath. It was too much. So much more than he deserved. "But…but you were right." His voice was gravely and deep and it wasn't from the damn surgery. "You deserve so much better."
"Oliver, that's not true—"
"That's why I let you walk away." And if that sentence ended in a little sob, Oliver hoped Felicity would never tell. "I knew…I knew that you deserved better. I think I've just been waiting for you to realize it."
Felicity let out a small sob herself and covered her mouth with her hand. Oliver wanted to comfort her, but his throat had closed up and he wasn't getting anything else out without breaking down completely.
"Oliver…" Felicity's voice and her hand trembled as she spoke. "You need to stop putting me on this pedestal." She wiped at her cheek roughly. "Haven't these last several months shown you how not perfect I am?"
But Oliver could only shake his head. Nothing could ever show him that.
Felicity gave a little huff of frustration. "You keep saying that you don't want me to be like you. Has it ever occurred to you that I might want to be like you? You're my hero, Oliver."
A sob ripped from Oliver's throat. He lost what fragile control he had and reached for her.
Felicity slipped seamlessly into his arms and Oliver buried his face in her hair. Pressing his lips to the spot where her neck met her shoulder, he just breathed her in, until he finally trusted himself enough to speake again. "And you're mine, Felicity. You are mine."
She let out the sweetest little whimper and burrowed closer. Oliver wasn't sure, but he thought, maybe, Felicity climbed up onto the bed to do so as she wrapped her arms more fully around his neck.
For what was probably the hundredth time (that day alone) Oliver had the to impulse to tell Felicity that he loved her. He wanted to so badly that he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep the words from spilling out.
Because telling Felicity that…it felt like a burden. One more thing for Oliver to heap on her slight shoulders.
Felicity may have said those words to Oliver a handful of times since they had broken up…the thing was hers always came with a 'but.' And…she was a loving person and he was never sure if she meant it as a friend or in past tense or…well, Oliver knew how he meant it and would mean it if the words ever escaped. And she would know too.
Because there would only ever be one meaning for Oliver when he expressed his love for Felicity Smoak.
Truly. Madly. Deeply.
Forever.
God, how he loved her.
But Oliver wouldn't…he refused to put that kind of pressure on her. Especially, when he knew that he would never love another woman. At least not the way he loved Felicity. It was selfish of him to try. Susan had proved that with crystal clarity.
But, even though, Oliver couldn't love Susan, it was clear that Felicity had loved Billy.
And Oliver had killed him.
Like a twisted version of an adolescent fantasy. Like the man Chase accused Oliver of being. A monster who had murdered the rival for the woman he loved, a man whose only sin was deserving her more.
"I'm sorry." Oliver sobbed it and it was pathetic and he hated it, but he couldn't stop. "I'm so sorry."
Felicity let out a watery laugh that was just…musical. God, he was such a sap. If they ever came across a meta that could read minds Oliver was gonna be laughed out of the vigilante club.
"Three apologies. Now, I'm getting worried." Felicity pulled back and cupped Oliver's face, brushing away his tears (ugh, why couldn't he stop crying?) with her thumbs and it felt far better than he deserved.
Felicity was smiling and her tears, somehow, just made her even more beautiful, her eyes shiny and her cheeks pink.
"What are you apologizing for now?" Felicity's voice was light, hopeful. She had no idea. God, she had no clue.
"I…" Oliver had to force the words out. "Billy. I need to apologize for Billy." Felicity's face fell and that made it even worse. "I killed the man you love and sent you down this dark path and it's my—"
Felicity's hand slapped firmly over Oliver's mouth, effectively stopping the painful recitation. "Okay, stop. This is something you are not apologizing for," she insisted fiercely. "Because it is not your fault."
But Oliver shook his head. Because it was. It was.
"Oh Oliver." Felicity sighed. "Scootch over." She pushed at his hip until he shifted, allowing her to settle onto the bed next to him.
He felt a sharp stab of pain from his wound when he moved, but it was easy enough to hide since he was sure he was looking rather wrecked. Oliver breathed through his nose and tried to gain some measure of self-control. The more upset he appeared, the more Felicity would try to comfort him and he didn't deserve to be comforted. Not for this. Whatever she had to say—
"I didn't love Billy."
Okay, Oliver wasn't expecting her to say that.
And the hope that skyrocketed in response was fucking dangerous. To his soul.
"You don't have to say that," Oliver asserted, trying to stop this from going down a very precarious path. "I know you would never have done what you've done to get Chase if you—"
"Chase killed Billy because of me," Felicity confessed in a rush and, looking at her face, Oliver had no doubt she believed it.
Believed that bullshit. Christ, had Felicity really been beating herself up about this all this time? Why hadn't Oliver seen it?
"That's…that's ridiculous. Felicity…" Don't call her 'honey'. Or 'sweetheart'. Or 'baby'. Just don't. "Nothing could be further—"
"Oliver," Felicity cut him off with a sigh. "I chose to date Billy and I kept dating him despite the fact that I'm on Team Arrow."
On Team Arrow? Felicity was Team Arrow. But that didn't mean—
This time, Felicity stopped him before Oliver got a chance to protest. "Which is something I chose. I chose to be on this team. To make it the center of my life. But I still brought Billy into it. Despite, the fact that I didn't love him. That I knew he had deeper feelings for me than…and, even though, I knew, deep down, mine were never going to match his—"
"Fe-li-ci-ty…" Oliver grabbed her hands, knowing he should be arguing against this ridiculous self-blame, but there was a part of him, a selfish ugly part of him that was lapping up her words like ambrosia.
"I couldn't even call him my boyfriend," Felicity confessed, her voice cracking. "But he was a good man and safe and," she laughed bitterly, "one of the most well-adjusted people I know…knew. And dating me got him killed."
Okay, that was enough. Was this what Oliver sounded like all the time? "Felicity, Billy was a cop. Chase was targeting cops. Billy died because he went after Chase without back-up."
Felicity's expression changed from one of grief and guilt to challenge in a heartbeat. She gave Oliver a look…
Ah hell, he'd walked right into that one.
"So, you're saying it wasn't your fault?"
Oliver pressed his eyes closed for a moment. Felicity had trapped him cleanly and efficiently with that one. "Did you say all that just to—?"
"No," she insisted immediately, shaking her head. "No. I just wasn't going to let the opportunity go by…" Felicity gave him a small smile, but then she swallowed and her smile wavered. "My point was that while I cared for Billy and I do genuinely grieve him…"
"I know," Oliver assured, because it seemed like it was important to Felicity that he understood that.
Felicity nodded, looking slightly relieved. "But my drive to get Chase was…is more out of guilt than love." She let out a soft grunt and harsh laugh. "Sound familiar?"
Oliver couldn't do anything but give her a wry half-smile. "Yeah, it does." The big difference was how much more self-aware Felicity was. It had taken her a few short months (or less) to realize something he had deflected and denied for years.
But apparently, Felicity was having trouble seeing that. "We're more alike than you realize."
Oliver couldn't help but fear that it was more of a contagion, something he had done to her. "I hate that there is darkness inside of you that wasn't there before. Because of me." Just like Chase said.
"No, Oliver." And now Felicity just looked tired. "It's because of me and my choices. Because of Havenrock—"
Was that still tormenting her? "Felicity, you saved millions—billions that day—"
But she didn't let Oliver speak. "It's because the life that I…we chose comes with consequences. We can't fight the darkness without taking some of it on ourselves. It's just the way it works. It doesn't even matter why anymore. It's a part of me now. Just like it's a part of you and…" Felicity took a deep breath, visibly gathering her strength. "And if we are going to move forward together…"
And, wow, that took the wind out of him. Felicity couldn't possibly be saying what it sounded like she was saying. Oliver held his breath.
"…then we both need to accept that this is a part of us. We can't…we can't just love the good parts…the pretty parts. That's not how love works."
"Fe-li-ci-ty…"
Oliver clutched her hands, not sure what to say. His mind was spinning and he was just a little bit terrified, because it sounded like…it sounded like Felicity was giving him another chance…opening that door again and…he was really, really afraid he was going to mess this up.
"Can you…do you think you can do that?" Felicity asked shyly.
And Oliver was honestly taken-aback. Do what? Love all of her? He couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I can do that."
Felicity's smile was…so beautiful. She turned her hands in Oliver's, lacing their fingers together. It felt so much more intimate that way. Mind-blowingly intimate.
"No more pedestals?" Felicity asked hopefully.
And Oliver had to laugh again. He was starting to feel a little light-headed. Had Ruth snuck something into that IV bag after all? "Well, I can try. That one will be a lot harder." Because he really couldn't imagine a world where he didn't think Felicity was perfect. Darkness or not.
Thankfully, Felicity's smile didn't waver. "That's all I can ask for."
That was good. Real good. But…
Okay…so what exactly was going on? It really seemed like Felicity was giving him a second (or tenth) chance. Were they agreeing to try again? Oliver was afraid to ask.
Reaching out, Oliver cupped her cheek, testing the waters, and when Felicity clasped his hand, holding it closer, closing her eyes and leaning into him, he…
Wow. Okay. Whatever this was, it was a good thing. Oliver was sure of that.
But was Oliver allowed to tell Felicity he loved her? Was he allowed to…? Shit, could he kiss her? Was that okay? It had been so long. Too damn long.
Felicity opened her eyes and wet her lips…but that was a nervous lip wetting, not a 'kiss me' one. Unfortunately.
"So…if we are going to this, I have another confession."
Oliver almost didn't hear the word 'confession.' His brain had come to a full stop at the phrase 'do this.' Because it sounded like 'this' was get back into a relationship. But, really, it could be a lot of things and he really didn't want to jump to conclusions.
But Felicity just kept talking, unaware of Oliver's brain's frantic misfiring. "I think I finally realized…or let myself realize why I've been avoiding talking about…us for so long."
Us.
Felicity just said 'us.' Wow. Okay, now she had Oliver's full attention.
Not that she didn't before, but…Oliver had kinda thought this was 'the talk.' Was there more 'talking'? Was Felicity expecting him to say or explain something…else? Because he really couldn't think of anything more he wanted to say. Or was supposed to say. A little niggle of panic settled into his stomach. He'd almost forgotten how hard this relationship thing was.
"You may have noticed that it's weird for me to avoid talking about, well, anything," Felicity told their combined fingers, laced together in his lap. She was acting strange, nervous.
And now that Felicity mentioned it, it did seem weird. Though, Oliver had just thought… "I just thought you were done with me." Even now, it was hard as fuck to say those words out loud.
Felicity deflated, her eyes becoming sad. "Oliver, I was never done with you. Even when I thought I was and said I was and…I don't think I could ever be done with you."
This time Oliver tried something new. He squeezed her fingers and just let the hope come.
"What I was doing," Felicity continued, "was avoiding. Yup. Epic avoidance. Not just with you. With my mom. Curtis. Myself. And I was being a hypocrite.
She needed to stop saying that. No, she needed to stop believing that. "Felic—"
Her hand came up to stop him. "Let me tell you why I'm a hypocrite, before you try to tell me it's not true, okay?" Her tone was light…but Oliver could only frown. He stayed quiet, out of respect, but he didn't like it and Felicity could tell since she gave him an eye-roll.
But she quickly turned serious again. Serious and nervous. "I'm a hypocrite because…I left you because you didn't trust me, when in reality…" Felicity gave an audible swallow. "I didn't trust you."
Well, that was a kick to the gut. If this was what Felicity felt at the mere idea that Oliver didn't trust her…wow. Now he knew why she was so upset.
"I didn't trust you not to…" Felicity's voice cracked and her eyes found the celling as she visibly struggled with herself. "I didn't trust you not to leave me."
Oliver's breath hissed on the inhale. He hadn't been expecting that. It…he…it caught him completely off guard.
Yet…maybe, it shouldn't have.
"Felicity, honey…" Oliver didn't even know where to start.
"I think that I thought that if you weren't willing to share everything with me, then clearly you weren't invested enough to stay. You know, since nobody stays and—"
Jesus Christ! "That is not—"
But Felicity was in full-on babble mode now. Her words getting faster by the moment. "It was always in the back of my mind, you know, that you would leave, like my dad left, like Cooper left. So when you left William…I mean, I know you didn't leave William. You sent him away, but it felt the same…"
If the other was a kick to the gut then this was a knife. Oliver had trouble breathing after that particular blow.
"And, I know, that isn't fair and that you didn't want to send William away," Felicity's voice cracked. Her words were so fast and so full of emotion, Oliver was certain that he wouldn't have understood half of them if he didn't know her so well. "And, maybe, my father didn't want to leave me and, maybe, Samantha was just doing what mothers do, trying to keep her kid safe. Just like my mom and…wow, the similarities are kind of freaky, huh?"
It took Oliver a minute to realize Felicity had ground to a full stop and she was looking at him with tears running down her face, waiting for a response and he…what the hell was he supposed to say to all that?
"Yeah. Yeah, it is." Oliver wondered if it was his imagination or if he truly did sound out of breath. His stomach was still rebelling from all the metaphorical blows and…how had he not made these connections before? He knew he wasn't nearly as smart as her, but…God, how could he have been so selfish as to not to realize? "I'm sorry."
Felicity shook her head, her free hand waving dismissively. "It was just my stupid childhood…issues—"
"No. For not realizing…or remembering that you had that fear." Oliver felt so stupid. "You always seem so strong. So much more emotionally…competent than me. I forget. I should have been more aware. I...God…and I abandoned you after you were shot…"
Felicity winced, turning her head away. It told Oliver all he needed to know and then some.
This particular guilt brought a wave of nausea and Oliver cursed himself. "And I wasn't there for you when your father came back and he—"
That pulled Felicity's eyes back to his. She shook her head, reaching out to cup his cheek. "Thea was dying, Oliver. I'm not telling you any of this to blame you or to…I'm just trying to explain—"
Oliver grabbed her hands, pulling them toward him, holding them to his chest as he told her fiercely, "Felicity Smoak, I will never leave you. Not willingly. Not ever. I swear it."
Tears fell freely down her face, leaving trails in the soot, but Felicity smiled. "Not even for my own good?"
Felicity always did go for the jugular.
"Well, you're always telling me that it's your choice."
That earned Oliver a chuckle. Thank God. "Damn straight."
"Even if you ask me to leave…" Okay, that seemed creepy stalkery and Oliver rushed to add, "I'll always be there for you. Even if we're not together." Was that too presumptuous? Was he implying they were getting back together? "Or…"
Then Oliver had a flash of a memory.
"And what was that down there?" The rush of anger Oliver felt thinking about it was actually strangely stabilizing compared to all the other emotions he'd had to deal with in the last few hours. "'Let me go?' What the hell, Felicity?"
Felicity laughed. Which was so not an appropriate answer. "You were bleeding out. I really didn't want you to die with me."
That made it absolutely not even slightly better. "You can't seriously believe that I would have purposely let you go?" Even the idea struck terror in Oliver's chest. So much more so than the idea of bleeding out.
Still smiling, Felicity shook her head. "I didn't really. It was mostly a gut reaction."
Well, that was one gut reaction Oliver could live without. "Don't even think about it. If you'd…" He shuddered, closing his eyes, trying to will away the image of Felicity falling from behind his eyelids.
When Oliver opened them again Felicity was still smiling. Clearly, she was not taking this seriously enough and he scowled.
"What?" Felicity laughed, picking up on his irritation. "You can sacrifice yourself for me, but I can't sacrifice myself for you?"
Oliver thought about that for a minute. The double standard. The hypocrisy of it. "Yes, yes that's exactly it."
This was one hypocrisy Oliver could live with.
Felicity, clearly, didn't agree and she gasped (though it was half-laugh) and smacked his shoulder. "Oliver!"
And it was so normal, so them that Oliver smiled. "Ow! I just had major surgery, Felicity."
She rolled her eyes. "Such a baby."
But, then, to Oliver's complete and utter shock, Felicity leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the spot where she had hit him. He managed to keep himself from gasping out loud, but he was quite certain his eyes were wide as saucers.
Thankfully, Felicity couldn't see his undoubtedly comic expression, because she had laid her head on Oliver's shoulder and her hand on his heart (right below where that damn bratva tattoo used to be), relaxing against him.
"God, I'm so tired."
Her words triggered a rush of affection and Oliver smiled into Felicity's hair. "Then rest," he whispered, wondering if he was being too presumptuous to suggest it.
But Felicity just kicked off those ridiculous boots and swung her legs onto the bed beside him and Oliver could have cried (not literally. He was done with the blubbering), it was so wonderful.
Swallowing, Oliver carefully pulled her glasses off her face and laid them on the rolling table next to the bed. Felicity snuggled closer and it felt like he took his first clear clean breath in…a very long time. He rubbed his cheek against her hair and…what did all of this mean?
Resting his hand on the small of her back, over her chip, Oliver tried to process everything that had just happened. The conversation. Felicity lying there with him. Everything.
And as Oliver went over it in his head, for the first time, in a very long time, hope didn't feel futile. In fact, this felt like a new beginning. An open door.
Was it up to Oliver to walk through?
Swallowing, he asked, "Felicity?"
"Hmm?"
Her response was just a sleepy hum and Oliver couldn't help but smile. He imagined Felicity was having a pretty significant adrenaline crash. Though, for his part, Oliver was afraid that if he fell asleep, somehow, everything would have gone to crap by the morning.
"Hypothetically, if I…um…if I were to tell you I loved you, you wouldn't feel pressured or anything, would you?"
Felicity froze for a second and the butterflies in Oliver's stomach kind of…went a little bonkers, but then she looked up at him with the sweetest smile and said, "Nope."
Wetting his suddenly dry lips, Oliver let out a breath. "I love you."
Her face crinkled up with emotion and, for a moment, Oliver was afraid that she was going to start crying again. But, then, Felicity took a deep breath and rasped, "I love you, too."
It was so quiet that Oliver almost felt like he was reading her lips, but for the first time since Felicity had found out about William, he didn't hear a 'but' lingering just beyond the surface.
Oliver really didn't trust himself to speak after that. He pressed a kiss to her forehead, but wasn't about to tempt fate by asking for anything more.
It seemed to be a good choice, because Felicity hummed happily and yawned.
"Rest, hon." The endearment slipped out before Oliver could stop it, but Felicity just nodded and snuggled closer so, maybe, that was an okay thing to do again as well.
Oliver smiled. He laid there, enjoying the weight of Felicity against him. He was just starting to dose when…
His eyes snapped open.
Chase.
Fuck.
Oliver had forgotten why he and Felicity had been locked down in the Bunker in the first place. Chase's evil fucking plan had worked. Again.
"Felicity? Are you asleep?"
Felicity looked up at him, her face concerned. Clearly, she had picked up on Oliver's shifting mood, despite his trying to keep his tone calm and steady. "Not yet."
Oliver blew out a breath, he needed to stop panicking, and met Felicity's eyes. "In the morning, do you think you could…help me find William?"
Immediately, Felicity's face melted into a reassuring smile and Oliver felt infinitely better. "I can do it now if you want," she offered even though exhaustion was written on her every feature.
Part of Oliver wanted to say 'yes.' Now that he had made this decision, he wanted to act. To know where his boy was. To make sure he was all right. But neither of them were in any shape to act on anything.
Shaking his head, Oliver murmured, "Rest first."
Felicity nodded and settled back in. Tightening his arms around her, Oliver closed his eyes and tried to sleep himself.
Surely, one more night wouldn't hurt.
Author's Note: (edited 1/1/2018)
(Don't) Let Me Go should have 21 chapters (20 plus an epilogues from William's pov). I'm finished with the first draft and hope to post the last seven chapters weekly. I plan to post every Sunday, late afternoon/evening. (BTW feedback definitely keeps me motivated to stay on schedule ;-))
I do have an offshoot, a two-shot, smutty off-shoot piece called Best Birthday Ever, that's now up.
The first five chapters weave in and out of Arrow Season 5, episodes 20-23. If you want a fun hiatus project, I invite you to rewatch them while reading (I did. Many, many times).
This story does NOT mean I am abandoning Another Kind of Island or To Sacrifice the Sun. My fickle Muse aside, I would prefer to finish this one before going back to other projects because having the two huge WIPs is stressful enough.
HUGE thank you's to my Beta team. Fairytalehearts, who never shies away from the tough critic and this (among other reasons) is why I love her! Imusuallyobsessed, who is always around to suss out idea and talk character and plot with. And my lovely, Ireland1733 whose endless love and support makes it all worthwhile.
Visit me on Tumblr where I'm Emmilynestill and Twitter at the same. Sneak Peeks to the next chapter there every Thursday. Stop by to chat.
I appreciate all comments and kudo and respond (eventually) to all. I seriously cannot wait to hear what you all think!
Happy Reading,
Emmy