I'm really sorry for this story but I needed to write it.
I lost my bestfriend six years ago and it was the anniversary of her death (and her birthday a month after it) not so long ago and I had all these feelings and this is the result. In some way this story helped me to cope.
And one more thing...there's plenty of mistakes (but I can't find them) and they are all mine because my beta didn't want to proofread it for me (and I don't blame her). So I'm sorry for them as well.
It has been a week since Oliver Queen signed the papers, the machines were switched off and Felicity died. Oliver had to admit that it was the hardest week he experienced. He grieved over the loved ones before but what he felt now was far worse.
During the day he was Oliver Queen, the father and widower grieving over his beloved wife and trying to look after their little son. In the night he changed into the man who was willing to let himself to be killed. The Green Arrow grieved as much as Oliver Queen did and it could be fatal.
When he had been saved by Quentin Lance for the first time, the older man gave him a sad smile and understanding look. The second time – not even twenty-four hours after the first time – captain Lance tried to talk to him. The third time Oliver Queen found himself in a jail. Lance had been willing to keep him locked until he would come to his senses and stop risking his – and everybody else's – life.
It was almost 3 am when he persuaded Captain Lance that he was ok and wasn't going to risk anymore innocent lives. Laurel picked him up at the station then and Oliver knew that there was going to be another lecture. It ran in Lance's family.
Laurel was quiet for half of their journey and it was unnerving for Oliver. He wanted to be over with it as soon as possible.
"Ollie," she started when she stopped at the lights.
He waited for her to say something more but she just sighed and shook her head instead. "Are you going to tell to me to stop just like your father did?"
"Is it going to have a different ending than any other time?" asked Laurel. She talked to Oliver about it every single day but he didn't listen. He always left and ran into the middle of the fight without backup.
"Probably not."
She shrugged. "Then no, I won't try to talk you out of it. But I'll tell you something. You have a son who already lost one of his parents. Do you want him to lose his father too? Because that's going to happen if you're not careful! Do you think Felicity would want you to do this? To be in constant danger because you can't cope with her loss? You're not the only one who lost her, Oliver. We all did and we all miss her but we found a way to live without her."
Oliver looked at her sideway. "You have no idea how hard it is to live without her," he muttered.
Laurel gave him a look of disbelief. "You can't be serious! I've been there, done that when Tommy died! If someone knows how you feel it's me! So don't you dare to tell me ever again that I don't know how hard it is!"
Oliver knew he should apologize but he couldn't. Sure, Laurel had been in the same – more or less - situation like him but she wasn't married to Tommy. They weren't even together when Tommy died. But if Oliver told her this right now she would probably kick him out of the car in full speed. And besides it wouldn't be fair to Laurel because she did suffer more than enough and he knew she loved Tommy. He just didn't like the fact that she was right.
Oliver didn't sleep that night. He lay in their bed too big for one and too cold without his wife. He thought he would be used to the coldness by now but it had been getting worse night by night. He wondered if he would ever be use to it. He couldn't imagine he would though.
Oliver sat up and took a picture of smiling Felicity from the bedside table. "I miss you," he whispered, fighting back tears. "Robbie's been asking for you. He misses you too. We all miss you."
He sighed and got up. It was time to get ready to be Oliver Queen, widowed father and mayor of Star City.
An hour later he knocked on the door of John and Lyla's apartment. He heard small feet running on the other side and when the door opened he faced four year old Sara.
"Uncle Ollie!" she squealed and hugged his legs.
Oliver couldn't fight a wide smile. He scooped her up. "Hello pumpkin. How are you, sweetie?"
"We had pancakes for breakfast! I had two!" she said proudly. "Robbie didn't want any but daddy pretended the spoon was a plane and he loved it!"
He closed the door behind them before answering. "That's great. Don't tell daddy but I knew he's better than me in making Robbie eat."
Sara waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, don't worry. Mummy said I didn't want to eat when daddy fed me when I've been little but I ate when you fed me." She gave him a wink.
"It's true," intervened Lyla coming from kitchen with Robbie in her arms. "Hello, Oliver." She hugged him. "How was your night?" Her eyebrows were meaningfully raised.
He sighed. "Laurel called." It was a statement more than a question.
"Sara, honey, could you tell daddy that Uncle Ollie's here?" Lyla asked her daughter with a gentle smile. When the little girl was out of earshot, Lyla frowned and he knew it wasn't going to be pretty. "If she didn't we wouldn't even know you're alright! Oliver, this needs to stop! Otherwise you will let yourself kill!"
He shrugged. "I don't care." And he didn't. He couldn't find meaning of his life without Felicity. He didn't know how to live, what to do. He killed more people in the last week than in past few years. He had been driven by rage and he knew it but he couldn't fight it. He couldn't find the strength to do so. He wanted to put the arrows carrying the death into those bad guys.
"You have a son to care about!" Lyla's voice has been dangerously low.
Oliver winced; he looked down at Robbie in her arms who watched him with wide eyes and a grin. Yes, he had a son to care about, son who looked nothing like Felicity but it was still really hard because he didn't want anything else than to die and be with his wife. "He would be better without me," he muttered.
She studied his face for a long moment. "Okay. Fine. Go and let them kill you but tell me one thing, just one...what am I suppose to tell your son when he asks why are both of his parents dead? Or worse when he will find out that you committed suicide? Because it would be a suicide...and a cowardly one."
Oliver hung his head, tears filling his eyes. "I don't how to live without her. I'm trying but I can't! I can't stop myself from hurting people, being that old Oliver I've been before I met her. Felicity was an amazing person, kind, caring and loving and now she's dead. And the only thing I want to do is to be with her. I know Robbie doesn't deserve this life or life without parents but it might be for the best. I'm not a father he deserves and I would give anything if I could be the one dead instead of Felicity."
Lyla pulled him in for another hug – comforting one this time. "What you just said only proves that you're the best father Robbie could wish for. You would give your life for the people you love. I know it's painful and it seems like it won't get better but I promise you it will. You just have to give it time. There's no cure for the sorrow and it will always be there but you have to pull through! For the people you love and the people who love you."
The conversation with Lyla opened Oliver's eyes. He still missed Felicity and he would miss her for the rest of his life but it would get better and her memory would live through their son and everybody who knew her.
Robbie had been more like Felicity than Oliver would ever think. He was as smart as his mother and kind but he could take care of himself even as a child and Oliver couldn't be prouder.
As years passed Oliver explained Robbie what happened and he understood. It was hard for him too but he was loved and he had a family; family which would do anything to protect him.