Now, this one isn't as outright with the romance since it's more something I see with where we're at in the show right now, which means no obvious Olicity for the most part, just hints of it in Oliver's thoughts and their actions. I'll let you read my larger plan for this (and why the actual story has a different name from this oneshot) down at the bottom.
For Sarai, because I believe I owe you a story in which death is only a dream.
Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow, sadly.
Demons of the Night
She isn't sleeping; it's obvious. He can see it in the way she stares off into space just a little too long, in the way she gulps coffee like it's the only thing keeping her alive, and in the bruised skin under her eyes, too dark for make-up to hide. Not that she wears much make-up these days. What with her new employment status of, well, not employed, she says she doesn't need to concentrate so much on looking the part. She tries to sell it as a good thing, but he sees through the lie. In truth, she's exhausted and has no energy to expend on her appearance; she just won't tell any of them that.
He assumes it's from overworking herself. She's the brains of this operation, as she never fails to remind them, and she's trying to live up to that moniker. With Slade's next move anyone's guess, she's been working overtime on her overtime trying to find anything to tip the scales back in their favour. So really, he can't be faulted for thinking that it's this that's keeping her up at night, preventing her body from shutting down and getting the rest it desperately needs. It doesn't occur to him that the cause of her exhaustion isn't from a lack of trying to sleep.
He doesn't realize what's really going on until she dozes off in front of her computers in the foundry one night. He emerges from changing in the back to find her head resting on her arms, eyes closed and breathing deep. Oliver gives himself a minute to just watch her, the peaceful expression on her face lulling him into his own sense of relaxation. It's been far too long since he's gotten a full night's rest himself, but he accepted the impossibility of that long ago. His nights have always been plagued by nightmares, and even though they've gotten more frequent since Slade's appearance, they don't surprise him. Over the years, he learned to adapt and cope with his overactive brain, working his body to the point of collapse to ensure at least three to four hours of sleep each night. Lately, those three to four hours have still been plagued by tossing and turning, and he's glad Sara has been staying with Laurel since their father's arrest, if only because it means he won't keep her awake.
A muffled sound from the blonde sleeping in front of the computers brings him out of his head, and his eyebrows draw together as he looks at her. Somewhere along the line, her face became pinched in a frown and her breathing quickened. Whatever is happening in her dreams right now, it isn't as pleasant as before. Oliver stands still for a moment, unsure of what to do. Felicity is now muttering in her sleep, words that sound suspiciously like 'no' and 'not him'. He's the only one down here right now, with Diggle gone for the night and Roy only God knows where, but he isn't sure if he should try to soothe her. More accurately, he isn't sure how.
Her dream has clearly become a nightmare, but Oliver's own experiences with nightmares typically involve torture and madmen and loved ones dying. He wakes from them in a cold sweat, disoriented and ready to attack. There's no soothing their outcome, and he doesn't expect there ever will be. They're called nightmares for a reason.
He's not sure what Felicity's nightmare is about, but he doesn't think that soothing her is an effective way to help. If anything, she'd probably appreciate being woken up the most. As painful as it will be trying to separate dream from reality for those first few seconds, the terror he now sees on her face will start to fade once she does.
Decision made, he approaches cautiously, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. She doesn't wake, only jerks away from him and flinches in her sleep. Going for Plan B, he kneels beside her chair and reaches for her shoulder again. His hand doesn't stop when he expects it to, though, instead continuing on to brush fallen strands of hair from her face.
"Felicity," he whispers, and then repeats her name a bit more loudly when she doesn't respond.
He's on the verge of outright shaking her awake when she jolts upright with a gasp of, "John!"
Any other time he might be amused, but he's spent the last minute or so with a tight ball of agonized empathy for her writhing in his stomach and she still looks so frightened. Her eyes are flicking around the room at lightning speed, trying to get her bearings. Her breathing is even more erratic, and before he can stop himself, he's reaching out to cradle her face in his hands. Even as he tells himself he shouldn't, that he's crossing lines he's so carefully drawn, he brings her attention to him, one hand stroking down the side of her face while the other remains stationary, thumb stroking her cheek. One of her hands comes up to wrap around his wrist, fingers on his pulse point.
"Hey," he says softly, urgently, demanding her attention. "Hey, Felicity, you're okay. You're in the foundry. You're safe."
Her breathing is still coming in panicked gasps as she tries to make sense of the information, and he can see the moment it does. Her eyes clear just a bit and she nods to herself before the moisture pools in them. It doesn't fall, but it comes close before she stares up at the ceiling and tries to blink it away. Without thinking, he leans forward, wrapping one arm around the small of her back while his other hand cradles the back of her head. He stands, pulling her with him, in order to secure the embrace he knows he shouldn't be offering. It takes a few seconds for her arms to come around his waist, but when they do they grip the back of his shirt tightly and his arm shifts up to her shoulders to hold her firmly against his chest. Her face is tucked against his neck, his head propped on hers, but he can't feel any indication of tears as her breathing evens out.
He's not sure how long they stand there before she starts to pull away, but he does know that he shouldn't feel the loss of her warmth against him so completely. It isn't safe for him to have these feelings.
"Sorry," she mumbles, turning back to study her computer screens.
"You have nothing to apologize for," he responds sincerely. "You, uh, want to talk about it?"
She grimaces and shakes her head, still avoiding him. "It's nothing. Just a bad dream. They happen." She sits back down, intent on getting back to work and forgetting this ever happened.
It's then that he clues in, and he curses himself for being so oblivious. Of course she's having nightmares. He knows she had a few after the incident with the Count, and he should have recognized the signs. But he's been too wrapped up in himself, Slade, and his family to really notice much of anything these days.
It doesn't help that he's never seen Felicity as capable of being plagued by the same sort of evil that haunts him. She's too good, too pure, to fall victim to the demons of the night. The blonde has always been bright and happy during the day, despite her recent exhaustion, leaving no indication that their nighttime activities stay with her just as much as they do him. He should have seen it, though. He should have suspected. There was a time when he would have, but ever since Sara came back and Slade reappeared things have been different, tense. They've grown apart, and he knows most of that is his fault, and not just because he's trying to keep her at arm's length for her own safety. He's also been desperately trying to hold on to Sara, lest she disappear again. So many people have left him that he doesn't think he could bear to lose another.
His relationship with Felicity has suffered as a result, but he hasn't seen how much until this very moment. Diggle probably knows exactly what's going on with her, but Oliver? No, he's been too wrapped up in treating her like a sidekick, even after going out of his way to ensure she knew she was his partner, to notice she's been struggling just as much as the rest of them.
"I have them, too," he admits suddenly. She tenses, fingers halting over the keyboard. He isn't sure why he said it, but now that he has he needs to fully commit. "I've always had them, but lately… I don't get much sleep these days either."
He holds his breath, wondering if she'll accept the offer. When she slowly swivels her chair to appraise him, he exhales in relief.
"I think I've foreseen just about every possible outcome of this situation," she tells him, trying to turn it into a joke, but her eyes tell him it's anything but. She looks down at her hands as she continues, voice barely above a whisper. "You and Digg… You die a lot in my dreams. Sara and Roy, too, occasionally, but somehow it's never as bad. Does that make me a horrible person?"
The look in her eyes when she glances up makes him think she's already decided the answer, but he shakes his head. She told him once that he and Diggle were her family, right before she blew his conventional one to bits. One thing that taught him is, conventional or not, losing your family hurts like hell.
"It's the worst for me when you die," he confesses quietly. He knows he's said too much, revealed too much of himself in that one sentence, but he can't bring himself to care. Not when she's looking at him like that. He needs her to know that she means as much to him and he does to her. Probably more, but he'll never let that out.
She doesn't seem to know what to say to that as she twists her fingers in her lap. Finally, she looks up at him. "Does it help… talking about it?"
He shrugs honestly. "I've never really told anyone about it."
The impact of that statement is not lost on either of them. He could have chosen anyone; Digg, his girlfriend, a therapist (probably the healthiest option)… but he's talking to her. True, he hasn't said much, but he's definitely said more than he ever has before.
"Then I guess we'll be each other's test case," she finally says, forcing a tight-lipped smile. It turns genuine, however, at her next words. "But first: chocolate, because it makes everything better. If we're going to do this, we're going to need it."
With that, she reaches down and fishes around in her purse before pulling out two Kit Kat bars and holding one out to him.
He raises an eyebrow at her in silent inquiry and she shrugs. "Emergency stash. Never know when you're going to encounter a situation requiring chocolate," she tells him, gesturing between the two of them, "Case and point."
Oliver shakes his head but accepts the red package with a genuine smile on his face nonetheless. Leave it to Felicity.
A couple of hours later, she's told him about Diggle getting tortured for information, shot in the head, thrown off a building, and countless other deaths he wishes she hadn't seen. In return, he tells her about seeing things like his sister run through with a sword and pierced by his own arrows. Neither of them discusses the other's starring roles in their nightmares by unspoken agreement.
She stifles a yawn when she glances at the clock. It's 3:45 AM.
He stands from the chair he pulled out across from her and holds out her jacket. She tosses him a confused glance before putting her arms through the holes. Next, he hands her the cell phone on the desk and tells her to call Digg. Her eyes widen as she realizes she forgot he was more than likely outside her house.
"Tell him I'm taking you home and that he can take off and get some real sleep. I'll crash on your couch for the rest of the night."
She raises an eyebrow, trying to lighten the mood. "Oh, you will, will you?"
He nods in confirmation, not even looking abashed at his presumption. While she makes the call, he heads to the back to grab his own coat and make sure everything else is secure. He's barely left the foundry in the past weeks, and while the thought of leaving it now makes him a bit nervous, he knows it's necessary. The idea of leaving Felicity when he'll likely dream of her death tonight is a thoroughly unappealing option, and she needs space from the basement if she's going to stay sane. So, the next best option is to go with her. Having her within a few steps of him makes him feel far more secure, even if it will paint an even larger target on her back. He tells himself it's just one night, and that he can allow the indulgence just this once.
And it will be just this once. He can't risk Slade finding out if it were to become a habit, and it's that thought keeping his desire to watch over her himself every night at bay. He won't put her in any more jeopardy than she is already just because he's afraid to lose her.
So he gives himself the night, just one, to escort her home and sleep on her couch and just be close to her. He gives himself one night to indulge in the surface of his desire where Felicity is concerned, keeping the rest firmly buried. Sleeping on her couch this once won't hurt anyone. At least that's what he tells himself.
When he wakes in the morning, he catches that the clock reads 9AM and he jerks up in surprise. They got to her place at around 4:30AM last night, and though he passed out pretty quickly after he lay down, he wasn't expecting to get four and a half hours of mostly uninterrupted sleep. He only woke up once, and even then it didn't take him long to adjust to his foreign surroundings. After a quick trip down the hall to watch her rest for a few minutes, he found it easier to go back to sleep. It helps that her place smells like her: a mixture of citrus and vanilla and strawberries that somehow combines to be so uniquely Felicity that he isn't sure it would work as well for anybody else.
However, he keeps his promise to himself. It will only be a one-time thing. This can't happen again. It won't.
They're the first at the foundry since he's told Digg to take the morning and Sara is still with Laurel working on a way to get Quentin released. It's business as usual when she sits down at her computers and starts fresh while he heads to the mats for a workout.
When he drops from the salmon ladder at the end of his usual routine, she's turned to face him. It takes her a moment before she gives him a tentative smile. "Thank you… for last night. It helped."
He nods his head in acknowledgement, the barest of smiles twitching his lips. "It helped me, too."
He doesn't have to tell her it won't happen again. The way she looks at him indicates she already knows that. It frightens him sometimes, her ability to read him so easily.
The sound of the foundry door opening startles them back into action, and they've both retreated to their own areas of the foundry by the time Sara clears the last few steps. She pauses for a moment, looking between them before heading to Oliver and the training area.
"Did you have better luck sleeping last night?" She asks when she comes even with his side.
He nods. "One of my better nights."
"Good," Sara replies with an upturn of her lips before she heads to the back to change into workout clothes.
She doesn't tell him that she was having her own trouble sleeping last night and came by at 4AM, just in time to see him getting in to Felicity's car.
A/N: Ok, so that would be the end. I tried to remain as true to where the show is right now as I could, but I couldn't help myself in adding the Olicity implications and the whole sleepover bit. Sarai, hopefully you did not need any chocolate (I wanted them to eat peanut butter cups instead of Kit Kats but, well, the peanut allergy kind of ruined that one) to get through this one! If you did, my next piece should be much, much happier and I'm sorry for being such a downer!
So, as I was writing this, I was thinking of ways in which the whole 'nightmare' and 'dreaming of death' subjects could be made into other small pieces, and then I figured it was kind of limiting to consider just one portion of the area of sleep, so I decided to expand it to the much broader area of 'Losing Sleep'. So, if there's interest, I will probably be expanding this to end up as a series of sometimes related, sometimes not related oneshots/ short multi-chapter pieces (like 2 or 3-parters) about the different ways characters can lose sleep, which leaves many more possibilities.
All characters and platonic relationships are fair game, but I won't stray from romantic pairings of Roy/Thea and Olicity (meaning I won't pair those four romantically with anyone else). The Olicity would range from established to something more along the lines of this one where they aren't actually together (but, because I'm diehard Olicity, you would be able to tell they're meant to be, or at least pining after each other). Some would be serious, some a bit more cheesy and fluffy, just kind of depends on what strikes me. It would probably be more of a sporadic update type of thing, where I just add to it as I get ideas. I'd also take prompts/ideas from you guys, if there's something you want to see. I can't promise I'll get to it right away since finals are creeping up and I've got a couple of other stories happening right now, but I will try my best. So, if you'd be interested in that, just let me know in that beautiful little box down there and/or hit the follow button and I'll see what I can do!