Disclaimer: I do not own Arrow or anything that is somehow related to Arrow besides my own writing. All rights go to the respective owners.
A/N: So everyone saw that coming but me… Life sucks doesn't it? Sorry the writers are such trolls; this slow-burn Olicity is sucking the life force out of me. So sorry it's probably bad but I just needed to write… *sobbing like a freak in a corner*
Honestly, what had he expected? To make a heroic—if somewhat martyr-esque—farewell and return to her loving and waiting arms? He shouldn't be surprised. He knew that. But it didn't take away the dull cloud enveloping his head and chest. He had pushed her too far. She'd believed she knew him, and now he had gone and made her think otherwise. He knew he did what was necessary at the moment, his set of morals he believed to be firm always on the brink of flipping. Tonight proved to be too much for her. Coming back a changed man after thought to be dead not once, but twice? It was insanity, and he was fortunate to have done it the first time.
How could he evolve any more than he already had? How could she expect any different, any more than what he was? What he had already become? His thoughts revolved around her, always, or could she even see that? He had meant it when he told her he loved her. They weren't just the words of a man off to war. But now he was beginning to think he'd lost the only battle that mattered.
What had she expected? Why had she expected him to be different, at all? He'd been put through situations far more problematic than Ra's al Ghul, so why would that single fight put his perspective in a new light? He'd already changed because of his time 'on the island,' and part of her couldn't understand why she'd asked for more from him. Was she afraid to be loved by Oliver Queen?
Sure, his romantic past was less than perfect and spotty at best, but he loved with everything he had. That was usually the problem—feeling too hard, caring more than healthy, if such things were possible. With him, by now she had realized anything was. The sad truth was that they were both scared shitless, to the point where he hadn't been able to tell her how he felt, in words, until he was going off to get himself killed. And she'd stood there, unable to say anything in return. But after contemplation over the time had been… away, she didn't think he'd really needed a response. Maybe he just needed her to know.