This was a Tumblr prompt from outoftheclosetshipper: Felicity keeps her nightmares a secret from the team, especially Oliver.
I decided not to post this in my Prompt/Drabbles collection because I really like how it turned out, and I feel like it's a solid one-shot.
If you like it, let me know!
For the third time that week Felicity shot straight up in bed in a panicked, cold sweat. The bed sheets were a tangled mess around her legs, and several seconds passed before she realized she was safe in her own apartment. She pushed sweat-soaked hair from her forehead and sucked in slow, deep breaths to try and calm her racing heart.
Felicity glanced at the clock on her bedside table. 3:17 a.m. She threw the covers back and padded to the kitchen for a glass of water, flipping on every light switch she passed in the process. She was unable to remember the last time she'd gotten a good night's sleep in the nearly three months that had passed since they stopped Slade Wilson. Every time Felicity closed her eyes she could feel the cold blade of his sword biting into the skin on her neck and his promise of death breathed against her ear.
Knowing she'd never fall back to sleep, Felicity took a quick shower, gathered a few things and drove to the foundry. As she expected, the space was empty so early in the morning, so she sat down at her computer, intending to run a few queries and finish the decryption she'd been working on the day before, but exhaustion overtook her. She crossed her arms atop the desk, pillowed her head into them and was asleep within seconds.
The last thing Oliver expected to see as he descended the foundry stairs was Felicity asleep at her desk at 5:30 on a Sunday morning. He contemplated moving her to the sofa but decided he didn't want to chance waking her, recalling a comment Felicity made the week prior about not getting enough sleep. He couldn't help but notice the dark circles under her eyes recently and assumed it was because she'd been working long hours.
Oliver was shaken from his thoughts when he heard Felicity mumble his name in her sleep. He turned back around to see her trembling in her chair and was at her side in an instant.
"Oliver. No. Please!" Felicity's voice was laced with distress, and Oliver could see tears pricking at the corner of her closed eyes. He knelt down beside the chair and put a hand against her back.
"Felicity, hey. Come on, wake up," he said softly.
But her eyes remained closed as she repeated his name over and over, her voice becoming more and more anguished. Oliver shook her gently several more times, and with a strangled cry she jolted straight up in her chair.
Felicity's eyes locked on Oliver, and he was startled by the terror he saw in them. He braced his hands on both sides of her face and pulled the chair around so that he was squatting right in front of her. "Hey. Shh. It's ok. You're ok."
"Oliver.." her eyes were wide with fear, and her heart was pumping so fast she thought she might throw up. Instead, she tried to focus on the warmth of Oliver's hands against her cheeks. "You're.. here. You're ok."
His hands moved on their own volition, down Felicity's face to her shoulders. He was about to let go of her when her hands came up and clamped down around his wrists.
"Of course I'm ok," he said, furrowing his eyebrows. "What happened? Are you ok?"
Felicity's breathing returned to normal, and she sat back in her chair. Oliver's hands fell away from her, coming to rest on the arms of the chair as she did so, and she suddenly ached for the comfort of his touch.
"I.. Yeah," she said, looking down at her lap. "It was just a bad dream."
"Felicity," he said, imploring her to look at him. And when she did, Oliver could see the tears that had threatened to fall in her sleep had begun slipping down her face.
Felicity shook her head and hastily wiped them away. "I'm fine."
"You're not fine," Oliver said, unable to hide the concern in his voice. He took her hands into his and mentally chided himself for not realizing sooner what was going on with her. "You're having nightmares, aren't you?"
Sighing heavily, Felicity met Oliver's stare. She almost lost herself in the depth of emotion she saw there, and realized denial would be pointless. Oliver was relentless.
"Yeah," she whispered.
"How long?" he asked, unsure if he actually wanted the answer but knowing he needed it.
"Um.. Well, they didn't start to get really bad until after Slade." She trailed off, hoping the answer would be good enough. It wasn't.
"And before that?" Oliver asked quietly.
Felicity closed her eyes. She could almost feel his inner turmoil, and she knew he was already blaming himself. "Right after I was kidnapped by The Count."
Oliver's hands tightened around hers and she watched the color drain from his face. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against their entwined fingers, allowing himself five seconds of self-loathing. This wasn't supposed to happen to her. He sat back up, his deep blue eyes now fixed on hers. "Felicity, you're safe. Neither of those bastards, or any others, will ever get to you. Do you understand me?"
She did. She understood him perfectly. The problem was, he didn't understand her. "Oliver, I know you'll always do your best to keep me safe. You always have," she heard her voice betray her and didn't realize she'd started crying again until she felt Oliver's fingers brushing the tears from her face. Of course, that only made her cry harder. "But in these nightmares I'm not the one who needs saving. You are. And I fail you every single time."
Oliver froze in place, as her words settled into him. Of course Felicity isn't afraid for herself. She's always been the bravest person he knows.
Then, without hesitation he's on his feet and hauling her into his arms. They stay that way for several minutes — Felicity, with her arms around him, clutching at the soft fabric of his shirt; her face pressed into his chest. And Oliver, with his chin perched on top of her head, which is cradled in one of his hands. The other is pressing her body tightly to his.
He pulls back slightly when he feels her loosen her grip, and his hands once again frame her face, tilting it up slightly. She gives him a tight, sad smile that makes Oliver's heart clench in his chest. "Every time I put on that suit I feel safe knowing I'll have you in my ear, getting me through the mission and guiding me home."
He paused, briefly, and brushed a few strands of hair from her face. She leaned into his touch but didn't say anything, so he continued. "Not only have you saved my life on countless occasions, but you've also saved me. The man I've become over these past two years, the man I'm still becoming, that's because of you, Felicity. And that's why I can say with certainty that you could never fail me."
For the first time in Felicity's life she had absolutely no idea what to say. The weight of Oliver's words seeped into her and filled her to the brim with warmth and hope and something else that neither of them had really acknowledged yet. So she smiled and turned her face, which was still cradled in his hands, pressing a kiss into his right palm.
Oliver smiled back at her and dropped his left hand down to lace his fingers through hers. He squeezed his right hand shut, wanting the feeling of her lips on his skin to remain forever. "Come on. I think you should try to get some real sleep."
Felicity hesitated as Oliver tried to lead her to the sofa but relented when she felt her eyelids begin to droop. And instead of questioning him when he laid down first, she laid down, too, relaxing against him and letting the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart lull her under.
"Sleep," Oliver whispered, pressing a kiss into her hair.
And she did. They both did. It was the first time in months either of them woke up feeling rested. And after that day, the only way Oliver and Felicity slept was wrapped around each other.