Disclaimer: Arrow does not belong me. All rights belong to DC Comics and those persons associated in the creation of the show and comics.

A/N: Greetings! This isn't my first fanfic, but it is my first story for Arrow and Olicity. It has been couple of years now since I actually wrote a story, so I am a little nervous to be posting again. But sometimes you just have to take the jump, right? :-) I would like to give a quick shout-out to the lovely skimmy77 (skcolicity on tumblr) for reading through this for me and giving me her feedback. She is fabulous and I can't thank her enough! I hope you all enjoy this one-shot.

Coming Home

Light from the television flickered across the darkened room as BBCAmerica played lowly in the background, but Oliver had lost interest long ago. He lay across the beige couch in her apartment, while Felicity dozed on top of him. She had flipped on to her stomach sometime during the last Dr. Who episode; her head pillowed on his chest, and their legs tangled about each other like vines. This scene was becoming the norm for Oliver, even though he felt like it was still just a dream.

Because the truth was, at one time, a moment such as this had been nothing more than a dream. Having spent weeks recovering in a cave at the base of the mountain he had just reached the top of, Oliver lived in a state of semi-consciousness. The passing days became one long amalgamation of reality and dreams, and the herbs that Tatsu supplied daily didn't help matters either; his dreams forced to become vivid hallucinations. At the time, Oliver couldn't tell which was worse, reliving happy memories of friends and family one minute, or suddenly being forced into an illusion so real, he swore he was back home with her.

The hallucinations, though, never varied. Oliver's eyes would open as if coming back from a daydream and there Felicity would be, smiling behind the top of her coffee cup, as they shared a table at Jitters. She was always the first to speak …

"This is me noticing you staring," she would tease with a touch of tart in her voice and mischief in her eyes. Always the same opening rib, and it never failed to bring a smile to his face. The smile only she could draw out since the moment he first met her.

"Isn't that my line?" he'd question with a raised brow.

"Maybe," she'd return with a smile, "But it doesn't make it any less true."

Then with a large sigh, the mood would suddenly become very serious. Their meetings invariably felt like the real thing, but Oliver always had a vague awareness that this was just his mind, and part of him was thankful for that. Ever since the island, he had mastered hiding his emotions – the ones that could be his undoing - and might not have been as open if Felicity was truly there. But here in his mind he let all the fear and pain pour out of him. What if he wouldn't find his way back this time? What if this really was the end of Oliver Queen? The Arrow? The end of them, before they even had a chance to begin? Oliver was scared, and only in this false reality could he admit that.

"What if I can't pull through this time, Felicity? What if I'm not as strong as I think I am?"

"Of course you'll make it through this, Oliver," Felicity would reply as if she wasn't talking about something as dire as his possible death. "And of course you're strong enough. You're never one to give up and I don't expect you to start doing that now."

"How do you know?" He would plead, begging her to give him the answers.

"Because I believe in you."

Felicity would then reach across the table and take his hand in hers, smiling softly. That was when the vision would begin to unravel. The edges would start to blur, and he felt something pulling at his back, sending him to God knows where. Oliver would grip Felicity's hand a little tighter; panic alight in his eyes.

"It's time for you to go, Oliver."

"No," he nearly begged in a whisper, "I need to be home. You're my home, Felicity. I don't know if I can survive the loneliness again."

Leaning further over the table she would grasp his chin in her other hand and force him to look her in the eye. The forceful determination he saw there settled his resolve.

"Then wake up and come home."

Gasping awake each time, Oliver would find himself very much alive, each breath causing a pain so severe it had to be real. But every flare anchored him. He would fight. He would find his way home …

"You're thinking too loud," Felicity murmured, her sleep-muddled voice breaking through his musings.

Oliver huffed a laugh before he kissed the top of her head and his right hand came up to rub her neck at the base of her skull. "Sorry my thinking woke you. Go back to sleep."

However, Felicity turned her head so her chin rested on his sternum and she could look up at him. "What's on your mind?"

"Nothing."

Felicity blinked owlishly before giving him a looked that said she may be half awake, but she wasn't born yesterday. Oliver smiled down at her while stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"Just… reflecting," he finally revealed with a sigh.

Felicity hummed in response. She knew an answer like that normally meant he was talking about his recovery in Nanda Parbat. From the little he had revealed to her, his recovery was very much mental as well as physical. Oliver had once again endured so much, but he had survived and found his way back to Starling – back to her. However, such dark ruminations this late at night would never be a benefit to Oliver's mental outlook, and Felicity knew she needed to get his mind off of them.

"Hey," she said softly, cupping Oliver's cheek to bring his focus back to her, "It's been a long week. Let's go to bed; it's Saturday so we can sleep in tomorrow."

Oliver smiled softly in return and nodded his head in agreement. Upon arriving in Felicity's bedroom the two quickly fell into their nightly dance of prepping for bed, that usually ended with him in nothing but a pair of comfy sleeping pants, and her in an old t-shirt of his that he never wore anymore. Normally being the first one done, Oliver would slip into bed first, wait for Felicity to join him and gather her in his arms before drifting off. Felicity had other plans for tonight.

Placing her hand on Oliver's bicep, Felicity stopped him and told him to wait. Silently he watched her climb in before him and situate herself beneath the covers. Once comfortable she looked back at Oliver and simply opened her arms in invitation. The change in his facial expression was small, but Felicity noticed it all the same and her breath froze at the emotion pouring off of him. Quickly joining her on the bed, she pulled him into her arms; their legs tangling together as they had on the couch and his head coming to rest above the steady beating of her heart. His arms banded around her, while her right hand splayed across his back and her left rhythmically opened and closed along the back of his head; her nails lightly scraping through his cropped hair.

Closing her eyes once they got comfortable, Felicity listened as Oliver breathed deeply through his nose then expelled it through his mouth, his breath ghosting across her skin. She turned her head until her lips skimmed his forehead and then finally broke the silence.

"You came back," she said against his skin, "You fought and survived, and returned. Returned to Thea, the team, the mission, to us. You came home, Oliver. You. Came. Home."

Tightening his arms around her, Oliver breathed deeply once more and felt the tension melting from his body.

"I am home."

A/N: Well, I hope you all liked the story. Please feel free to leave a review; I'd love to hear what you think. I hope to be writing more soon, but since I'm still getting back into the swing of things (and have a slightly crazy work schedule), I can't say when or what the next story will be. Just waiting for the muse to strike!

Thank you for reading!

- RedPens&GreenArrows