Notes: I don't write stories often. But this popped into my head and I could not get it out. So I wrote it down. It's completely unbeta'd and mostly un-proofed. So any and all spelling and grammatical errors are mine due to laziness. Apologies in advance.
This is not-canon compliant after 3x11. I really just wanted to create my own scenario of Oliver returning. :) :)
Felicity's hands flew across her keyboard at lightning speed, her eyes sharply focused on the code strings flittering across the screen at the same pace to which she was typing. She was so close to finishing the algorithm that would solve Ray Palmer's latest issue on his ATOM super hero suit. It was the only thing she could focus on. The only thing she allowed herself to focus on at the moment. She found that if she just picked one task at a time to focus on with heightened intensity, everything else just melted away and didn't exist during that time.
In the weeks and… was it now months? She had taken time to think things over. In that time she had allowed her life to return to normal. Or at least as normal as it would ever be without him. Without Oliver. She didn't think she would ever get to a point where her chest didn't physically ache at the thought of him. But there was nothing she could do. He was gone and all the awards, accolades, degrees, and IQ points she had could not bring a man back from the dead. It was his choice to leave and she had to accept that, as she had accepted all of the other choices he made without her, despite how they may affect her.
After taking part in extensive talks with Ray about his plan to help Starling City, after having talked to Diggle, Roy, and apparently Laurel who now thinks she has enough training to fight alongside Team Arrow in the actual Arrow's permanent absence, she agreed to go back and keep her night job as the go-to tech whiz. They all had the same goal to help keep the city clean of terrible criminals who would steal, cheat, and murder. In the end, it was the thought that someone else's special someone could die, and if she could stop even one of those deaths, one of those heartbreaks, then she had to try. This was her city. Oliver's city. That's what got her back on the proverbial horse.
It also kept her busy. Like, really busy. This was a good thing. Keeping her mind away from reliving every single moment she shared with Oliver was the kind of medicine she needed. Well, that, and a lot of cupcakes. She did not need to remember the way his arms wrapped around her waist as he threw both of them over the stairs in the lair when Slade Wilson paid them a visit last year. The way his voice would soften when he spoke to her out of concern or worry. And she certainly did not need to think about the way his abdominal muscles would contract on that salmon ladder as he climb to the top with apparent ease. Ugh. She slightly shook her head to erase the memory, like it's an Etch-A-Sketch that will remove it permanently leaving behind a blank slate. But it doesn't.
Of course her mind goes to those moments when Oliver said he knew loved her and then he left her. She had played that scene out hundreds, if not thousands of times. Usually they air around 2am when she is laying in bed and wide-awake. It's her brain's go-to rerun, except she always tries to change the ending like it's a 'Choose Your Own Adventure' story. She's imagined herself running after him, throwing her arms around his neck and telling him she loves him too. She's imagined that she begs him not to go, pleading that they'll find another way. She's even imagined that she knocks him out cold with her bare fists and keeps him locked away safe where he can't go fight a duel with the most dangerous man alive. Who is still alive, because he won and Oliver lost. Now she's lost, too. But focusing on the tasks at hand and keeping herself busy is key. So she relishes in losing herself in the work because that is the remedy or an adequate Band-Aid.
More or less, since he's gotten on-board, Palmer calls or texts her around thirty times a day to discuss a new idea, a new tweak to the suit, or a new plan of action for the "next phase." There was always a next something. She sighed at the thought of him going on and on about the phases of A.T.O.M. She respects Ray and cares for him, but any romantic feelings that might have ever had for him were now gone. She laughs to herself that those feelings had probably been bored to death.
Day's like today pass so quickly that she doesn't even realize that she's missed breakfast. And lunch. But it was too early for dinner. Maybe an early dinner? Her stomach growled in agreement.
"Hey Gerry, can you order me the pad thai from that place you ordered from last week?" Her finger lightly pulls away from the call button on her desk phone before pushing it down again. "And an order…. Make that two, of crab rangoon. I'm starving. Please don't judge me—"
She was mid-defense when her executive assistant cut her off. "Felicity. I've been trying to get a hold of you all day. Your phone has been set to "Do Not Disturb" and you set the elevator security to not reach your floor without your passcode."
"Well yeah. I told you I had to finish the specs for a top priority project. Ray needs them by tomorrow, and you know how he likes to talk out his thought process for things before he gets to the testing phase. I did not need that kind of interruption."
She paused.
"But maybe I went a little overboard. I'm sorry. Did you need something?" After releasing the call button, un-clicking the "do not disturb" function, and re-setting the elevator security back to normal, she got up and walked across the room to where her phone was sitting, on silent, in her purse. Team Arrow had nothing going on this afternoon and nothing major planned for that evening, so she wasn't worried about missing any distress calls when she purposefully put her phone on silent that morning.
"Forty-one missed calls! Good grief, Ray. Talk it out with your therapist, if you must. You pay him less than you pay me." She muttered to herself.
Gerry enters her office after a few moments pass "I think it's urgent, Felicity." Poor Gerry. He wanted to call her Ms. Smoak so much. He thrived on formality, but Felicity wouldn't have it. She was twenty-five, and Ms. Smoak made her sound like her mother. Now there's a scary thought.
"Mr. Diggle called. More than a few times. He said it was urgent and he's now on his way over since your voicemail is full, he couldn't leave a message. I would venture to guess he's almost here."
"Oh my God, did he say what was wrong?" Her face fell. "Is it his daughter, Sara? I should check the hospital intake records…." She looked up at Gerry and continued in a slower speaking tone. "I mean I should call the local hospitals to see if they have any patients named Diggle… because that's the legal avenue for these sorts of matters…" Why did she always forget that hacking was illegal and her hobbies should not be shared with employees who could be subpoenaed and testify against her in criminal proceedings.
"He didn't say. Just that it was important and he didn't understand why I couldn't reach you, seeing as I am your assistant and it's during the workday. I explained to him that while this would normally be true for any other building, this building was now completely operated by technology, not just lock and key. And if you wanted your area of the office to be sealed off from the rest of the world, you had the technical savvy to do so. I think he understood. "
"The one time I go into lockdown mode to get peace and quiet and be productive, something happens. Please send him up when he gets here. I'm going to call him now." She politely shooed him out of her office and then yelled "Forget the thai order!" as the elevator doors were closing. Her pulse raced with adrenaline. She said a silent prayed that everyone was ok.
Picking up her phone, Felicity scrolled through her missed calls. Earlier in the day there were a substantial number of calls from Ray, which she assumed is what filled up her voicemail box. Though she admits, she hasn't cleared those messages in awhile. She still had a voice message from Oliver in there. Just in case she needed a fix. She hadn't listened to it since the day after she found out he was dead. When she was in the depths of despair and curled up on her couch in the fetal position. But she couldn't bring herself to delete it. It was like that chocolate bar she always kept stashed in the back of her freezer. Just in case she needed that chocolate fix in emergency situations. She then remembered that she ate that chocolate bar the third day Oliver went missing, before they had Malcolm's words and the sword with Oliver's blood on it.
There was an "Unknown ID" that called her a few times in rapid cessesion. Then a few minutes later she could see Diggle's number there in her missed call log. He called 15 times. "Dammit" she mumbled under her breath. She could not call back the unknown caller from her phone, but she could go into her call records and trace where that call came from to bring up the number. But first she needed to talk to John.
She immediately dialed his number and heard it ring as the door to the elevator opened with a bing. It was John.
"John! What's wrong? What happened?"
Diggle walked towards Felicity with a look of shock, but there was a twinkle in his eye. "Felicity." He smiled, a big wide crack smile. "Did you hear?"
"Hear what? Is everyone ok? Is it Sara?" She put her hand on his shoulder for support.
Gently shaking his head he said "I got a call from an unknown number this afternoon." He paused. Looking her straight in the eyes, willing for her to hear him clearly "It was Oliver. He's alive." He nodded his head as if he's still just starting to believe it himself. Pulling her into a hug, he repeated himself. "He's alive Felicity. He said this was the first opportunity he had to contact us, and he would explain everything but he was coming home."
What could she say? She was speechless. And she didn't fully believe it. She gently pinched her skin after she pulled away from Diggle's embrace, just to make sure this wasn't a cruel trick her mind was playing. "I don't understand." She finally breathed.
John stepped back but kept a hand on her arm. "I don't know either. All he said was that he was coming home but it will take him a few days. He sounded rough. His voice was raspy, and he spoke deliberately and low, like it pained him to talk. I'm not sure what condition he'll be in when he returns, but I had to tell you in case you didn't get his call. Since I couldn't get through to you, I worried he couldn't either if he had tried."
She looked down, embarrassed that she had let her work get in the way of the moment she had envisioned for months. That must have been the number that called her three times. She had three chances to pick up Oliver's call and she had missed each one of them. "I think he called me, but I had my phone on silent and in my bag. I was working on something and didn't want any distractions. Oh my gosh, I'm so stupid."
"Hey, none of that. You, Felicity Smoak, are a lot of things, but stupid is not one of them. Everything is going to be fine. He's coming home. "
As Diggle finished that sentence, her phone buzzed again with an incoming call. Unknown ID. Diggle saw it too. "Answer it. That's probably him. I just needed to tell you first. I'm going to go let the others know."
"Thank you. I'll see you tonight."
They both turned away from each other as she reached for her phone. Felicity inhaled and exhaled sharply before answering. "Oliver?" Her voice hopeful but reserved.
"I never pegged you as one to play hard to get." She heard his voice and had to remind herself to breath. He started to laugh lowly, but only ended up coughing. She almost didn't recognize his voice. It did sound different. He spoke deliberately, almost as if it were painful for him to speak.
"Oh my God, Oliver. How are you alive? Are you ok? Where are you?" She had a million questions that were all bubbling to the surface. Her heart was beating rapidly. After months of steeling herself to the world, she felt heat and warmth and blood flowing through her veins again.
He cleared his throat. "I'll tell you everything soon. I'm in Hong Kong right now. This was the first chance I've to use the phone and be able to speak. I was injured. Badly. I'm not even sure how long I was out for, but my right lung was punctured and I couldn't speak or breathe properly for what seemed like an eternity. Even if my mind wasn't cloudy from the drugs, I didn't have any access to any form of communication." He paused "You were my first call. I've already talked to Diggle though. He knows."
"He told me." Felicity was still in shock, unsure of what to say next.
"I'm so sorry Felicity." He managed to get out that sentence before a coughing fit hit him.
"For what? For trying to save your sister? For trying to save the city? You have nothing to apologize for. You're still a hero in my book."
"I'm sorry for pushing you away. Ra's stabbed me in the chest and kicked me off of a cliff. I was convinced I was going to die. But before I lost consciousness, I thought of you and I couldn't help but regret everything. I was going to die anyway and I never took my chance to be with you. I never got to hold your hand or kiss you goodnight, and I could have. I died without the good stuff that makes life worth living. So I'm sorry. You have no idea how sorry." Oliver stopped again to cough some more.
"Stop. Oliver. You're clearly still healing. Just come home. Come back and say these things to my face." She paused a moment, but could hear his breathing through the phone. "There's still something I need to say to your face that I should have said before you walked out the door."
"I'll be back in Starling in a few days. I'll tell you everything." Felicity smiled, wider than she had in months. In her mind, she pictured Oliver smiling the same way he did when he asked her out to dinner all those months ago.
At that moment, Felicity was sure of three things: Oliver was alive. He was coming home. And she was going to get to tell him that she loved him.
