Author's Note:
Hello my lovelies!
So, this entire fiasco can (once again) be blamed on Phenioxgirl and her favorite pastime: Sending me scenarios that ultimately lead to us fic screaming at one another until I actually sit down and write the thing. A million, billion thanks to her for listening to me ramble and for always unsticking me whenever my brain gets stuck. This fic wouldn't exist without her :)
I'm going to warn you now:
1) This will be seriously angsty, but it will all work out in the end.
2) No matter what the Rolicity says, this fic is Olicity endgame. (I just have a lot of feelings about Roy and Felicity's friendship.)
3) The rating is gonna go up later on.
Fic title from the song Coming Back For You by Maroon 5, because it fits this story to a T.
Enjoy the Olicity pain.
Oliver Queen spent nearly a month presumed dead.
Everyone thought it was true, had no evidence to contradict Merlyn's word. Even after spending night after night searching for something, anything that pointed toward Oliver being alive somewhere, his team hadn't made any progress. Despite Felicity scouring every inch of the internet for a lead, tracking his credit cards and keeping the facial recognition software running on an almost constant search, there was no sign of Oliver anywhere.
Three weeks passed without him there. Each day felt longer than the last, each night spent by the bright, artificial light of her monitors. Roy and John both watched over her, never telling her that her search was pointless, never trying to convince her to stop. They simply took turns being there, offering support and making the lair seem a little less cavernously empty.
Three weeks came and went, and Felicity was beginning to wonder exactly how large a deficit of sleep one could realistically survive. Her veins were probably coursing with more coffee than blood at that point, but she couldn't bring herself to stop. Oliver never would have given up on her, no matter how impossible the situation seemed, and Felicity owed him no less.
Sometimes, when the boys were quiet and Felicity had nothing to do but watch her multitude of searches run, she would catch herself thinking about Oliver, of what things would be like if they were granted a miracle and he returned home, safe and sound. She imagined what it would feel like to be held in those strong arms again, how her heart would race and her mind would take off after it. In her mind's eye she could see his warm, loving gaze; the endless depth of his steely blue eyes when he gazed at her with open, honest adoration. She could feel it, the fullness in her chest that bloomed and swelled under his affectionate attention, the little shiver of knowledge that trickled down her spine.
Over and over, Felicity thought about how she would tell him, finally tell him that she loved him too.
It was a promise she made to the universe, a vow to her own heart; If Oliver came home, came back to her, she would tell him. She would stop hiding from her feelings, would stop being afraid of how things would play out, and simply let herself feel it. She could picture it perfectly, the breathtaking smile that would curve his lips when she said the words out loud for the very first time. It made her ache all the way down to her soul, made her belly fill with butterflies and their rapidly beating wings.
No more maybes, no more what-ifs. Felicity swore that if Oliver came home they would finally be together.
Of course, she probably should have known it could never be that simple.
"Earth to Blondie." Roy called, startling Felicity out of her trance-like daze.
She blinked at the monitor before her, squinting a bit against the brightness of her screensaver. "Sorry, what?" she asked, slowly turning her chair toward the mats, voice crackling a little with disuse.
"You okay?" Digg asked, brows drawn together in a concerned knot above the bridge of his nose as he angled his body toward her, Roy and their sparring match easily taking a backseat.
"Fine." Felicity sighed, rubbing at her eyes with her fingertips beneath her glasses until a kaleidoscope of colors made her dizzy. "Just tired."
"When is the last time you slept?" Roy frowned, swiping a towel off the table as he came closer, wiping sweat from his face and neck.
Sighing again, this time in frustrated annoyance, Felicity looked from one man to the other, expression bland. "I'm fine, guys." she repeated, her tone harder. "I slept."
"When?" John pressed sternly, arms folded over his chest, eyes dark with worry. "You were here when I left last night, and you were here when I got in today. When did you sleep?"
Felicity groaned, letting her head fall back against the headrest of her chair. "I got a few hours on Oli-" she caught herself, internally wincing. "On the roll-away bed. Seriously, John, I'm okay."
His narrow-eyed look matched the one Roy shot her way, neither of them missing the way she just kept withdrawing into herself the longer Oliver was gone. They worried about her, about how she was handling his death. She didn't accept it, they both knew, and that was okay for now. Honestly, until they found a body, neither of them could accept his loss either. But, they dealt with it differently. Not better, necessarily, but different. They, at least, had Starling City and its criminal element to focus on. Nothing took the edge off quite like a good fight.
"We worry about you, Felicity." Roy told her, his gaze soft and sincere. "It's not healthy, spending all your time down here and chugging coffee like it's water."
Felicity snorted, head lolling sideways to smile tiredly at Roy where he'd perched on the edge of her desk. "I know, but I'm-"
"Fine." Digg interrupted, one corner of his mouth tugging up. "Yeah, we heard."
Opening her mouth to snark playfully at him, Felicity froze instinctively at the sound of the mechanical whir echoing from the top of the stairs as the security door released its locks. She frowned at Digg, who was reaching for his Desert Eagle and taking up a defensive stance between Felicity, Roy, and the bottom of the staircase.
"It's probably just Laurel." Felicity suggested, though she knew well enough to stay behind Digg.
The tension in the room shot up, Roy and Digg both going rigid when a set of heavy boots appeared on the top step. They didn't have a clear view of the top landing from their position, but the moment those boots tapered up to reveal a set of long, powerful legs, Felicity's heart lurched into her throat and her stomach swooped toward her feet, the world going a little topsy-turvy around her.
She would recognize that particular gate anywhere.
"Oliver." she breathed, her lungs too tight. "That's him, Digg. It's him!"
Before anyone else could move so much as an inch, Felicity was flinging herself out of her chair and launching her body across the lair. She didn't hear Roy or Diggle call out to her, couldn't hear anything over the rush of blood in her ears as her heart hammered against her ribs. Colliding with Oliver's chest felt like slamming face-first into a brick wall, but his arms came up automatically to wrap around her back, holding her up before she could crumple to the floor.
"Oliver." she gasped, voice tear-soaked and shaking as she clung to him, practically hung from his neck like a pendent and chain. "Thank God."
He felt solid in her embrace, real, all hard lines and sharp planes. It took her a moment to notice, overwhelmed as she was with him simply being there, being alive. All at once, though, she realized he was tense beneath her hands, in her arms. His shoulders were tight, his arms stiff where they held her. It reminded her of when they first met, of the very first time she'd been brave enough to pull him into a hug. The way he held himself, all reigned in and stoic, made her heart twist uncomfortably.
He still hadn't spoken, either, which wouldn't have been all that unusual for the old Oliver, or maybe if he hadn't just returned from the dead.
"Oliver?" Felicity whispered, allowing him to gently push her away from him. She took the opportunity to look up at him, at the face she'd missed so much it physically hurt. "Are you hurt?" she asked, stepping back to look him over, running her hands down his arms, across his chest in search of any injuries.
"No, I'm fine, Felicity." he told her, though he wasn't looking at her, not really. He was looking over her head at Digg, something dark and unfamiliar in his expression.
No one noticed Felicity flinch as though she'd been struck, the weight and cadence of Oliver's tone making her stomach sink, her name sounding empty as it tripped off his tongue.
Roy snorted dryly, drawing Digg and Oliver's attention. "Boy, you two really are made for each other."
Oliver's confused expression shifted into something knowing, like a lightbulb had gone off in his head. "That's not-" he started, stopped. He looked from Roy to Digg, his eyes flicking down to Felicity's face but skipping away too quickly for her to see anything in them.
She took another step back before he could continue, giving him the space he so clearly needed. "You should let John look you over, at least, Oliver. You've been gone for weeks, who knows what you've been through." she urged, tamping down on the frisson of fearful unease tingling through her.
Oliver did meet her eyes then, but she almost wished he hadn't.
When he looked down at her, Felicity felt the air whoosh right out of her lungs. Her knees wobbled but she fought to stay upright, ignoring the flare of pain behind her heart.
Those eyes, shuttered and hard, weren't the ones she'd come to know, to love. The eyes looking at her now, the same familiar blue but backed by solid, glinting steel, made her pulse skyrocket. She stumbled back automatically, stunned to see the absolute lack of warmth, of Oliver in those eyes. There was none of his love for her in those eyes; No gentle affection, no glowing warmth, no glimmer of recognition.
Those eyes were empty, nothing but hollow darkness and indifference.
Felicity could feel her face crumble, tears welling and lips trembling as she tried to suck in a breath. Those eyes, that furrowed brow and slightly turned-down mouth; those didn't belong to Oliver Queen. Not the one Felicity had fallen in love with, anyway. The emptiness in his gaze when he looked at her, the cold distance in his expression and the veritable chasm between them, those belonged to Oliver Queen; Vigilante.
"Felicity?" John questioned softly, his hand coming to rest in the small of her back, anchoring her back into her skin when she felt like she was going to shatter right out of it. "What is it?"
"Nothing." she croaked hastily, already pulling away, heading back to her computers. "I'm just... I have to shut everything down, stop searching now that we know he's- He's alive."
"That can wait, Felicity," Roy assured, looking between Felicity and Oliver like there was a puzzle there, something he thought he understood but clearly didn't. "Don't you want to-"
"No, I- I'm good." she shook her head, resolutely refusing to look back at Oliver, willing back the tears burning her eyes, threatening to spill down her cheeks. She stubbornly refused to acknowledge the concern on Roy's face. "You guys go ahead, look him over. I have... Stuff."
"Stuff." Roy repeated incredulously, casting a worried look at Diggle. "Felicity-" he stopped, cutting himself off when she turned pleading, glittering eyes up at him. "Okay." he nodded immediately, lips going tight and thin.
Awkwardly, Roy and Diggle urged Oliver toward the med-bay, clapping him on the back and mumbling about being glad he was home. They left Felicity alone to wrestle down the storm of emotions raging inside her, allowing her the space to sort through the snarl of confusion churning in her brain.
She was thrilled, ecstatic even, to have Oliver home. He seemed to be in one piece for the most part, which was all she'd really asked for. But, he was off, wrong somehow. The way he looked at her, even the way he said her name; It was all wrong.
She had gotten used to feeling his love for her with nothing more than a look. Oliver carried his emotions in his eyes, wore his heart right there on his sleeve even though he tried not to. Ever since he had made his vow to Tommy, stopped killing and actually let himself be human again, Oliver was different. Even more so, really, since that night in the mansion, the night Slade took her. He was more open, easier to smile, easier to love. He lost the sharp edges and the stoicism, let his team in.
Now... This Oliver, the Oliver that strolled into the lair like he'd never been gone, never been all but dead, he was all granite and scowling, a hardened, throwback version of the Oliver that lied to her at every turn and killed without blinking.
Something deep inside Felicity knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, this wasn't the Oliver that had pulled her close and gently kissed her forehead, the man that told her he loved her and meant it.
Honestly, this Oliver looked at her like he'd never loved her at all.
To say the next few days were tense was like saying the ocean was deep or the Burj Khalifa was tall; woefully and pathetically inadequate.
Against Diggle's advice, Oliver slipped almost directly back into the hood. It was painful to watch, the way he hid beneath his leathers, pulled his hood up and let the shadows cloak his face. Felicity was thrown by the seamless shift from tortured playboy to masked killer, knocked off kilter by the sheer ease with which he donned his old persona. Hard as it was to see, Oliver was one hundred percent vigilante when he rode off into the night on his bike, not even bothering to turn on his comm-link.
When he did linger in the lair, he was quiet.
Felicity remembered when she'd first joined the team, how Oliver kept more to himself than anything, only engaging with her or Digg in casual, friendly conversation when he couldn't find a way around it. Seeing him do that now was like looking back in time, at a man she hadn't ever really known. That Oliver - the brooding, stand-offish militant who mitigated his pain by taking it out on others - had never given her the chance to get close. By the time she'd managed to crack his shell, she'd already gotten to know the softer, more human side of him.
Knowing Oliver had reverted to his immediately post-island behavior after having fallen for the gentler, sweeter incarnation made Felicity feel like she was suffocating. She didn't know how to act around him, how she was supposed to rebuild their relationship from scratch, starting from a place they'd never actually been.
She missed Oliver, her Oliver. There were no teasing quips or flirtatious jokes that edged too close to the line he'd drawn, no lingering touches that skipped right over platonic and landed somewhere around tell me again why we aren't married already. And, despite her objection to it in the past, she even missed the way he hovered behind her shoulder while she worked, like he had no choice but to be near her even if she was focused on everything but him.
Felicity missed it all.
It wasn't as though Oliver were being cruel or deliberately mean, of course. Everything was just so agonizingly different from the way they'd grown to interact that Felicity honestly had no idea where to even begin to fix it. Fixing it wasn't her job, she knew, but there seemed to be little else by way of options. With no one talking about it, especially Oliver, Felicity had no idea where to go from there.
His first night back, Oliver didn't even look up when he let himself into the lair. It was just Felicity downstairs, sitting at her computers without really seeing them, the lair's lights turned down. She startled when she heard the door open but didn't turn her chair around to greet him. She recognized the sound of his feet on the steel staircase, a sound she'd begged the universe to let her hear again, but it just made her chest hurt all the more so she stubbornly refused to acknowledge it.
Oliver went right for his suit, didn't say a word until he was dressed and grabbing up his bow. "Roy will be here soon," he announced, not bothering with a hello or any sort of preamble, "send him out to the docks."
He didn't wait for confirmation and Felicity didn't offer any.
Roy found her half an hour later, knees curled into her chest and sniffling.
"Give him time." he'd soothed, stroking a hand over the back of her head. "He's been through a lot, Felicity. He just needs time."
Felicity nodded into her knees, fighting down a sob when Roy planted a kiss to the top of her head before hurling up the stairs and leaving her alone.
The second and third night weren't much better, save for Felicity making sure she had plenty of research to keep her busy. The city was relatively quiet, still enjoying the effects of the post-mirakuru clean up. Oliver and Roy didn't even really need to be out on patrol, but Felicity figured it could only help Oliver in the long run, guide him back into the swing of things.
Once more huddled up in front of her computers, Felicity busied herself reading through the latest police reports, looking for any cases that might fall into their territory. Other than a few minor drug arrests and one domestic dispute gone wrong, there wasn't much to choose from. When that failed, she did some unnecessary maintenance to her system, cleaned up and rearranged several different areas of the lair that no one ever used but her, and had read almost six chapters of a book she found tucked up on top of a bunch of boxes in the storage closet.
When Oliver and Roy returned just after midnight, Felicity was on her third pot of coffee and felt like she was going to vibrate right out of her chair if not her skin.
"Go home." Oliver had ordered, voice brooking no argument. "You're no use to the team if you can't focus."
Felicity and Roy had both stared at Oliver's back as he strode away, Roy with the shadow of anger cast over his face and Felicity with her bottom lip caught so hard between her teeth she tasted copper.
"Come on, Blondie." Roy urged softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and helping her up. "I'll take you home."
John was a welcome presence on the fourth night, staying with her while the other two went out on patrol. He didn't press her for information or push her to share, just sat beside her and helped her sort through criminal records. It was soothing, having John by her side. They talked a little, mostly about Sara and how she was growing so fast it made Digg and Lyla just the littlest bit sad. Felicity found comfort in John's unwavering warmth, found herself pushing their chairs together so she could lean into him while they talked.
Roy returned first, face streaked with blood and dirt. "We're okay." he assured quickly, palms up and arms open to show no injuries. "Oliver's got a nasty gash in his side-"
Felicity didn't let him finish, just rushed to the med-bay and started pulling out gauze, disinfectant solution, and a suture kit. She had everything laid out by the time Oliver grunted his way down the stairs, gritting his teeth to stop himself from making any more noise.
"Get on the table." Felicity commanded, not giving him the chance to disagree.
Oliver arched a brow at her, looking a bit amused by the way she took control, but he complied, shrugging out of his jacket as he went.
"Shirt." She tugged at the hem of his undershirt, then stood back to let him strip it over his head.
Oliver winced when he lifted his arms above his shoulders, the messy wound over his ribs tugging uncomfortably. Felicity reached for him, fingers splaying over his side to steady him as she looked at his injury, but Oliver's hand shot out to grasp her hard by the wrist. She went rigid in his too-tight grip, a soft whimper bubbling in her throat.
Oliver jerked back like he'd been burned, the first flicker of anything besides rage or indifference sparking in his eyes. "Sorry." he ground out immediately, not looking at Roy or John as they came up behind Felicity and Roy pulled her away.
"What the hell, Oliver?" Diggle demanded, angry and surprise making his tone hard.
Felicity didn't look back, didn't listen to hear what Oliver had to say in his own defense. She let Roy lead her to the back of the lair, to the freezer where they kept blood and ice packs.
"Here." Roy said gently, wrapping an ice pack delicately around her wrist. "You okay?"
Felicity nodded quickly, biting her lips together and fighting the stinging in her eyes. Her feelings were hurt more than anything, but she couldn't open her mouth to say so without risking a hiccuping sob coming out right along with it. Oliver had never hurt her, would never deliberately do so, but the potential had been there for the first time in their history and that shook her. She'd always had his affection for her, even when it was simply platonic, as a buffer between her and the darkest parts of himself. She wasn't entirely convinced she had that anymore, and even just the idea of it made her heart hurt.
She still didn't believe Oliver would actually hurt her, not physically. No matter what he'd been through, what had changed between them, Oliver wasn't, would never be that kind of man.
Roy must have seen it written on her face anyway because he cradled her wrist to his chest with one hand, used the other to wrap around the back of her neck and pull her into a hug. "I'm sorry, Felicity." he murmured, dutifully ignoring the weak sound that escaped her throat. "I know this has to suck for you."
She nodded into his neck, letting herself sink into the comfort of his arm around her shoulders.
"Want me to kick his ass for you?"
Felicity giggled through her tears, pulling back to smile a watery smile. "I think we both know how that would end."
Roy grinned, relieved to see something other than tears and a frown on Felicity's face. He cupped her cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "The offer stands." he promised.
Avoiding Oliver for the rest of the night was easy, if only because he didn't actively try to seek her out. Felicity spent the last couple of hours before sunrise making more progress in the book she'd found, splitting her time between reading and listening to the SCPD scanner for any situations requiring their attention.
Digg called it a night, heading home to Lyla and Sara before either of them could wake. Around four o'clock Roy yawned, jaw cracking with how wide his mouth dropped open.
"You ready to head home?" he asked, eyes lingering a little over Felicity's wrist, the faint stain of a bruise forming beneath her porcelain skin. "I'll give you a ride."
"In my car, you mean?" she teased with a smile, rubbing sleepily at her own eyes. "Yeah, just give me a second."
The two of them were halfway to the stairs when Oliver's voice pierced the tense quiet. "Felicity."
Surprised, she turned back to him, cautious but curious. Eyebrows lifted in question, she waited.
Oliver shifted his weight from one foot to the other, a deep scowl marring his face. "Can I talk to you? Alone." he added, giving Roy a significant look.
Roy huffed a sarcastic breath, making Felicity smile reassuringly at him when he turned questioning eyes on her. "Are you sure?" he asked, laying a protective hand to the dip of her spine. "I can stay."
She was already shaking her head. "Go ahead, wait upstairs. I'll be right behind you."
He hesitated, sending a narrow-eyed glare Oliver's way before nodding and slowly making his way out of the lair. Felicity watched him go, only turning back to Oliver when the door locked behind Roy.
"So?" she asked, brows up expectantly. "If this is about earlier-"
"It is." Oliver sighed, eyes intense but seemingly a little lost. His face was drawn and tired, the lines of his mouth carved deep with exhaustion. "I owe you an apology for that. I was out of line."
"Yes, you really were." Felicity agreed, her tone soft but chiding. "I was only trying to help, Oliver."
"I know." he nodded, more to himself than anything. "I know that, but you... You surprised me."
Felicity's brows pulled together in confusion. "I've patched you up a million times. Why-"
"That was before." Oliver interrupted, meeting her questioning gaze directly. "Things are different now, Felicity. I'm different."
"Oh, I am well aware of that." she snorted derisively.
Oliver growled under his breath, a sound that Felicity recognized but had never been on the receiving end of. "Look, I know that you and I were something, before." he started haltingly, and Felicity felt the ground tilt out from under her feet, her stomach rolling with nausea. "I remember feeling things for you, things that were terrifying and larger than life. I remember it, but I don't..."
Swallowing thickly, fighting the lump forming in the middle of her chest, rising up into her throat, Felicity blinked hard against tears. "You don't what, Oliver?" she asked, embarrassed to hear the quake in her own voice.
His eyes went hard again, shuttered as she watched. "I died on that mountain, Felicity." he ground out between clenched teeth. Felicity's stomach roiled, bile burning the back of her tongue. "Ra's shoved a sword through my chest and kicked me off the side of a cliff, okay? I was dead, and death... It changes you."
Felicity had a hand covering her mouth, clamped down tight to stop herself from making a sound. She could feel the sob lodged somewhere behind her sternum but she refused to let it out. A million questions flooded her mind, made her head spin with the influx, but she tamped down on the urge to ask them.
"Malcolm Merlyn found me on a mountain ledge." Felicity did make a sound then, a gasp that she just couldn't hold back. Oliver shook his head, a humorless smile curling his lips before he continued. "He's the one who brought me back. The League has a way, a place that can revive the dead, and Merlyn... It doesn't matter. The point is, I'm not the same person I was when I left."
Felicity took a step forward, her body moving of its own accord. She froze when Oliver stepped back, his shoulders tightening. "I don't understand." she admitted, her voice sounding hollow and distraught even to her own ears. "What does any of this have to do with me, with before?"
Oliver glared angrily at his hands, like they'd betrayed him and he couldn't figure out why. When he lifted his eyes back to Felicity, they were dark and clouded. "I said that I remember us, remember being in love with you."
Felicity nodded, trying to smile through the tears. Hearing Oliver say the words, despite whatever else was going on, made a tiny flicker of hope spark in her chest.
That hope was doused in ice water when Oliver added, "I remember it, but I don't feel it anymore."
"You-" Felicity choked on the knot in her throat, eyes burning with tears that trickled down her cheeks in scorching trails. "I don't- So you, what? You just don't love me anymore?"
Oliver shook his head tightly, jaw clenched. "I don't even remember what it felt like, honestly. I can't feel much of anything anymore." he explained, clinical and detached. "I know that I did love you, that it was there, but I can't remember how it actually felt. The place where it used to be, where we used to be, it's just empty now."
"Feelings like that don't just disappear, Oliver." Felicity snapped, angry and confused, her world feeling as though it were shaking apart around her. "You don't-"
"I'm just trying to be honest with you." Oliver told her coldly, expression unmoved and blank. "I'm not in love with you, Felicity. If that's going to be a problem for you, I need to know now. My team can't afford-"
"Your team?" Felicity laughed, a bit hysterical and more than a little shakily. "Who do you think held your team together while you were gone, Oliver? This team is as much mine as it is yours."
Oliver's scowl deepened and he looked for a moment like he was going to argue, but the door opened at the top of the steps and Roy's voice echoed down.
"Hey Blondie, you comin' or what?"
"Coming!" she called back, eyes never leaving Oliver's face. Before she turned to leave, she looked Oliver square in the eye, drawing all her strength up into her voice. "You may not remember what it felt like to love me, Oliver, but this team... We are more than just a team, we're family. However you feel or don't feel about me now, that doesn't change."
She could feel Oliver's gaze on her back as she climbed the stairs, felt it burning into her skin with every step. She held her shoulders up and back, her head high even though tears were coursing down her cheeks. Roy's smile slipped when he saw her, his eyes going soft and sad.
"What happened?"
"Take me home?" she asked, all too aware of the broken, splintered sound of her own voice. "I just want to go home."
Roy didn't hesitate to pull her into another hug, arms around her shivering frame as she sobbed against his throat. "Okay, okay." he murmured between gentle shushes, "Everything is gonna be okay."